#poorly executed and explained but a lot of heart.......... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alrightieaphroditie · 3 years ago

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waste a moment | e.m. *:·ﾟ✧ back to masterlist

pairing *:·ﾟeddie munson x female!reader wc *:·ﾟ 5.1k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! smoking, slight shotgunning, slight dubcon (i think? both characters are under the influence/implied consent for both), masturbation, fingering, all the finger sucking, slight choking, spitting, petnames (baby, babe, princess - gag, ik, but it's cute alright), protected p in v, biting, probably poorly written smut, etc. :) an *:·ﾟthis is literally five thousand words of me trying to write filthy smut. did i execute it? i honestly have no idea. i was writing a part two to my steve fic when i had this idea and before i knew it i had over 3k written for it, so i decided i'd finish and post this first. listened to a lot of kings of leon while writing this, hence the title, and i totally did not imagine it was eddie singing the whole time :) anyways, mostly unedited, so please let me know if anything major stands out! i kept trying to add a break in the text so it just wasn’t one long ass piece of work but tumblr kept messing w the format so... yeah. any and all feedback is massively appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

synopsis *:·ﾟeddie munson proposes you two play a 'no touching' game after smoking a joint and well, things go exactly as one would imagine

you only agreed to eddie's little challenge because, at the time, you wholeheartedly believed you would win.

he had brought it up while you were already a few hits deep, sitting on his lap in his bed. he had one of his arms lazily wrapped around your waist, the other holding the joint the two of you were sharing. he'd take a long hit, letting his head fall back as he inhaled it, and then he'd lean forward, pressing his lips up against yours and exhaling the smoke into your mouth. and you'd sit for a moment, simply just existing in each other's space, and then he'd bring the joint up to your mouth, and you'd repeat the process.

you were pretty content just like that, and then eddie had to go and open his big mouth. "i have an idea," he said, eyes shut as he rested his head against the wall. you were (very) slowly braiding a strand of his hair, all your focus on your fingers, and your eyes dragged to his face when he spoke, his words filling the silence that had surrounded the two of you. usually, eddie turned on some music while the two of you smoked, but early he said he just wanted to take everything in - every little sound, every little detail.

"what is it, munson?" you asked, letting your fingers drop in your lap as you shifted to look at him. joint long gone, he brought both of his hands up to your hips, fingers digging into your skin lightly.

"let's play a game. a no-touching game." blinking his eyes open, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. he saw your eyebrow quirk up, and he chuckled, bringing a hand up to tap the tip of your nose. "we see how long we can go without touching the other person." he explained, his eyes rimmed ever so slightly red, pupils dilated.

"and what does the winner get?" you asked, contemplating the idea over in your head. eddie's love language was quite literally physical touch, something you had figured out early on in your relationship, so you thought it was a little ballsy for him to even be proposing the idea. you gave him thirty minutes tops before he'd brush some of your hair out of your face or snap the strap of your tank top against your skin. this would be so easy.

"winner gets to do whatever their heart desires with the loser, babes. that seem fair to you?" his hands slid from your waist to your thighs, running his palms up and down your skin. you almost went cross-eyed for a second, the mere feeling of his skin on yours sending sparks throughout your body, but you found yourself nodding in response. "good," he quipped, leaning in to kiss you gently before he used his hands to push you off his lap.

you fell back on his bed, giggling, and that was how it started.

eddie had surprisingly lasted thirty minutes without even a hint of touching you, which made you curious as to what he had planned. he picked up his well-loved copy of the lord of the rings, the one he was annotating for you, and you moved to the floor in front of his cassette deck, riffling through his tapes. typically, you were more into the mainstream music, always bopping along to david bowie or fleetwood mac, but ever since you met eddie he's slowly been turning you into a metal fan.

you picked one of his iron maiden tapes, popping it into the deck and turning the volume up just a bit. you earned an appreciative hum from eddie on the bed, but he otherwise ignored you. you were starting to feel the effects of the joint, your mind going slightly hazy and a little sleepy. the music filled in the silence, and you stood from the floor, swaying your hips to the beat while you roamed through eddie's room, looking at his posters and decorations.

when you turned to face eddie, his gaze had traveled from his book to your body, and you couldn't help but smirk as your face flushed. you put on a little show, running your hands down your front slowly while you danced; eddie's eyes following your movements without fault. this is it, you thought, this is when he breaks. you watched as he adjusted himself, fixing his position on the bed, and he raised his brown eyes to yours, giving you a wink before he turned his attention back to his book.

pouting, you sighed dramatically before heading over to your bag, riffling through it before you found your own novel that you had brought. hopping up on the bed next to eddie, mere inches away, you laid down so that your legs were perpendicular to the wall that eddie was leaning against, you head down by his legs. you were starting to feel lighter, a little more absentminded, the true effects of the joint finally hitting you almost full forced. your eyes kept wandering around the pages of your book, absolutely not picking up a single word.

the two of you managed to stay in your positions for about half an hour, until something hit you that made you realize whyeddie proposed his little game.

you never really smoked too often, didn't really like the feeling of being out of your mind, so to speak. the few times you did smoke, though, were always with eddie because you felt comfortable around him. and eddie, the attentive and secretly gentle man that he is, always kept his eyes on you, taking note of how you responded to each hit. eddie knew you better than anyone else, and so he knew that after a certain amount of hits, after you settled, that you would become needy.

and god, were you feeling needy right now.

you don't know what brought it on, exactly. it might've been watching eddie as he slouched into the bed, a pen cap in his mouth as he wrote out some notes in the margins of his book. or the way his fingers bent the spine back, his rings shining as they hit the light. the way that his shirt lifted up his chest when he stretched, reveling the slightest glimpse at his happy trail. the way his tongue worked to flip the cap around in his mouth, his slight oral fixation taking over as he chewed on the lid.

you don't know what brought it on, but you wanted his fingers in your mouth, wanted to feel his rings against your lip as he pressed the pads of his fingers into your tongue. wanted to feel his hips pressed against yours, his hair falling around your face as he leaned up on top of you, grinning. wanted to feel his teeth against your neck, wanted to feel him. and you knew that he knew it, too.

his lips curved into a smirk as he glanced at you next to him, your thighs slightly rubbing together while your bottom lip gets tucked into your teeth. "you alright there, babe?" he asked, sitting up a bit more on the bed as he tossed his book to the floor. his view right now was much better than anything some fantasy world could offer. your pajama shorts had ridden up your thighs from the way you were laying, and he could just barely catch sight of the pink panties that sat underneath them.

"eddie, i know we can't touch each other but..." you paused, feeling your face flush from slight embarrassment from the question on the tip of your tongue. you were feeling desperate, needed something other than the feeling of your thighs moving against the other. "but, we can... touch ourselves, yeah?" the ending was barely above a whisper.

you had shut your eyes, moved your hands to rest against your abdomen, fingers slightly dipped into the waistband of your shorts, and so you couldn't see eddie's reaction. eddie, who had leaned forward slightly, big, brown eyes trained on your body. he licked his lips, heart racing, before responding. "sure, princess. we can touch ourselves."

at his approval, one of your hands immediately moved under your shorts, under your panties, almost as if they had a mind of their own. a sigh slipped from your parted lips when the tips of your fingers met your wet skin. your legs dropped from the wall, feet landing on the pillow as your knees spread apart, your left one almost bumping into eddie's shoulder. he dodged it, even though he would've won the game had he let it touch him. he didn't want this moment to end.

as you slowly circled your clit with your wet fingers, your other hand fell to the mattress, gripping the sheets tightly. eddie placed his hand near yours, pinkies almost touching as he watched you with heavy eyes. your sighs had turned into whimpers, the feeling of your fingers making you feel some type of pleasure, but it wasn't really what you needed. you needed eddie. tilting your head to the side, you opened your eyes with herculean effort, opening your mouth to say something, anything, but the only noise that came out was another whimper.

your hips bucked slightly against your own fingers, your desperation having you on the verge of tears. you were struggling to form any type of coherent thought, but you managed to decide then that you needed eddie more than you needed to win. "eddie," you mewled, inching your fingers closer and closer to his on the bed. he watched intently as the tips of your fingers stopped just shy of brushing against his. he waited a moment, chest heaving as his breath quickened, before your hand moved up to hold on to his wrist as you pushed two of your fingers inside yourself.

"oh, thank fucking god," he muttered, reaching over with his right hand to intwine your fingers together, pinning your hand to the bed as he leans over you. his left hand snaked up your front, fingers dragging up the hem of your t-shirt as they travelled up your chest. he lightly ran them across your neck before he placed his middle and ring finger against your lips. "open up, baby. make my fingers all nice and wet for your needy pussy."

you obliged, eyes wide and staring into his as you parted your lips, sliding your tongue against his fingers as he pushed them inside your mouth. you both let out a moan, eddie's own mouth parting slightly as he worked his fingers in and out of your mouth. your own fingers stopped their movements, your sole focus on following eddie's orders as you twirled your tongue around his fingers, his rings feeling heavy against your bottom lip. his lips quirk up in a smirk as he sees your hazy gaze, and he gently squeezes your hand with his before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

he gently removes his fingers from your mouth, and you can see them shine in the light, wet from your spit, the sight itself causing you to clench around your own fingers. he carefully maneuvers his hand beneath your shorts, running his pinky finger along the hem of your panties before he dips his fingers beneath that, too. you remove your fingers, making room for eddie's hand, and he hums appreciatively.

his big, brown eyes follow your hand as you pull it out, your own two fingers wet with your slick, and his eyes nearly roll back into his head. "let me have a taste, baby," his voice is barely above a whisper, but there is desperation laced in it that makes you shiver. you slowly lift your fingers to his mouth, running them against his lips before he opens them, tongue gliding out to lick the seam between. he makes a noise in the back of his throat, lowering his mouth on your fingers completely as he pushes his fingers inside you.

"oh. oh- fuck..." the combined sensation of his mouth on your fingers and his inside of you makes your back arch off the bed slightly, toes curling against the pillow as pure pleasure courses through your body. mimicking eddie's moves earlier, you slowly guide your digits in and out of his mouth, your eyes following the movement while your hips squirm against eddie's hand. he nips at your fingers when you pull them out, a thin line of saliva still connecting his lips to your fingers, and without thinking, you bring them to your mouth to clean them off.

eddie flashes you a wicked grin, releasing your hand and moving his to hold the side of your face while his fingers start a slow, teasing pace inside of you. "fuck is right, princess. you taste so fucking good." he tilts his face closer to yours, his wavy brown hair tickling your cheek as it falls past you. his hand slides from your cheek to your throat, caressing it lightly before he leans into it, amounting the slightest bit of pressure. it makes you gasp; makes you tilt your head back ever so slightly to lean into his grasp.

"jesus christ, this pussy is needy," he teases, scissoring his fingers inside you in a way that makes your mouth drop open. even with the music playing faintly in the background, you could hear his fingers moving, hear how wet you were becoming by his actions. "it's always needy, isn't it baby? needy for my tongue, needy for my fingers... needy for my cock." he pressed his mouth against yours harshly, swallowing your moan as he curled his fingers inside your pussy, pressing up against the spot that had your knees smacking together.

he pressed your legs back open using his elbow, attempting to push them apart wider as he kissed you. and you, well, you were quite simply in a state of bliss. the only thoughts running through your head consisted of eddie, oh, please, and fuck. you couldn't have verbalized them, even if you wanted to; your whole body was spent. eddie was currently turning you mindless and he hadn't even pulled his cock out yet. you yelped when you felt his teeth bite against your bottom lip, the feeling of pain such a drastic difference from the pleasure he was causing your body to heat up with. he chuckled at your response, tongue sliding out to ebb the pain on your lip before he pulled up, nose brushing against yours.

"open," he said softly, motioning his head towards your mouth slightly. as you complied, parting your lips, eddie's own mouth parted, a trail of spit slipping between his lips and landing on the tip of your tongue. you kept your mouth open, letting eddie watch the saliva slide down your tongue before you swallowed. "that's my good girl." he grinned, hand tightening around your throat slightly as he watched you blush.

your eyes fluttered shut as your throat strained against his hand, hips bucking a little more intensely against eddie's hand. he started a quicker pace with his fingers, his thumb moving up to press against your clit. "eddie," you whimpered, both of your hands moving down to grip his forearm, your nails digging little half-moons into his skin. your mind was growing fuzzy, you could feel the heat radiate from your abdomen as eddie continued to push his fingers inside of your, curling them up to brush against your soft spot.

"yeah, princess? what do you need, huh? use your words." his voice was gentle, if not a little condescending as he watched you melt into the mattress below him. he could have honestly come just from the sight of you like this alone, but he forced himself to concentrate. he wanted to get you off first before he used you to finish him off. god, he almost couldn't wait. he pressed his thumb against your wet bud a bit harder, slowly circling the pad of his finger around the sensitive area.

you went silent for a moment, nothing but shaky breaths falling from your parted lips as the pressure built in your lower stomach. "need... need you. i need you, eddie," you sobbed, tears lining your eyes as you began to feel overstimulated. the music, the feeling of his fingers and his hand on your throat, the haziness inside your head, it was all too much, and you felt yourself at the point of breaking, burning warmth pooling to your stomach.

"you've got me, baby. you're gonna come on my fingers and then i'm gonna fill that needy, little pussy up with my cock, yeah? that's what you really need, isn't it?" his words were punctuated by his thrusting fingers, your body rocking against the mattress as he quickened his pace. you could only nod in response to his musings, whimpering and gasping as his hand applied a tiny bit more pressure against your throat. one particularly harsh stroke of his fingers caused your breath to hiccup, your grip on his forearm making him hiss as your pussy clenches around his fingers while you explode.

you swear you blackout for a moment, seeing nothing but hazy stars behind your eyelids as eddie finger fucks you through your orgasm, nothing but praise falling from him mouth as he watches you. he lets up on your throat slightly, allowing you to catch your breath while you come. the absolute lewd noise of his fingers moving against your slick is all you can hear, and your grip on his arm becomes pliant as your body goes slack.

"jesus, baby. you're fucking dripping onto my bed," he muses with a small laugh, eyes zeroed in on the wet spot now staining your shorts. if you were more cognizant, you'd probably be embarrassed, but your come staining eddie's bed was the least of your worries. your throat was dry, your cheeks wet from a few stray tears, and your body was thoroughly spent. and yet... and yet, you wanted more. and when eddie's big, brown eyes finally meet yours, he understands immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

he uses his hold on your throat to help lift you up, guiding your mouth to his as you move into a sitting position. his other hand brushes against the side of your neck, his fingers wet against your skin, and later, much later, you'd think about showering, but now, you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours. his mouth was hungry against yours, his lips moving almost desperately as he kissed you hard. you both managed to move into a kneeling position, one of eddie's knees between your legs, and he effortlessly flipped you on your back, head falling onto the pillows.

he swiftly climbed over you, resting one of his hands near your head while his hips crashed into yours. you moaned at the feeling of the rough denim between your legs, the feeling going straight to your core as he grinded against you lazily. his other hand slipped up the hem of your shirt, fingers gripping at your side as he moved his tongue against yours. your own hands slipped down his chest, fingers stopping when they reached the waistband of his jeans. you fumbled with his belt, fingers still a little shaky from your orgasm mere moments ago. eventually you unclasped the buckle, pushing it aside while you moved on to the zipper.

"look at you, still so needy for me after i just filled your pussy with my fingers. it's adorable," he muttered against your lips, nose softly brushing against yours- a stark contrast to his words. he leaned back on his knees, lightly slapping your hands away from his pants as he moved. eddie reached behind him with one hand, pulling his shirt off his body and haphazardly tossing it on the floor. you bit your lip as you studied his tattoos, the ink contorting as his muscles flexed while he moved. you caught sight of his happy trail, tufts of dark brown hair leading down his abdomen, and that view alone made your pussy clench in anticipation.

he trailed his hands up your legs slowly, nails digging into your thighs before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants. tugging down harshly, he practically ripped your pajama shorts and panties off, tossing them behind him somewhere. the cold air made you shiver as it hit your wet pussy, and your legs moved to close before eddie smacked your inner thigh lightly, his tongue clicking a tsk. "uh-uh, baby. i need you to keep those wide open for me. can you do that, princess?"

you nodded eagerly in response, not wanting to disappoint your boyfriend, and watched him unbutton his jeans, tugging them down to his thighs and revealing his black boxers. he leaned over you to reach into the bedside table, no doubt looking for the condoms he kept there, and you took this moment to softly trail your fingers along his shirtless chest, tracing his tattoos before moving down to his happy trail. you gently ran your fingers down the expanse of skin, causing eddie's head to drop into your shoulder as he moaned softly.

encouraged by his response, you trailed your fingers even lower, toying with the edge of his boxers before dipping them inside. his hips rutted against yours, and you grinned as your fingers encountered the head of his cock, causing him to jolt. you giggled at his reaction, loving how sensitive he was, but before you could really have any fun, he pulled away, your fingers slipping from his boxers, a pout on your lips. "enough of that, brat. you'll make me come before i even get inside of ya." he tugged down his boxers roughly, ripping open the condom package between his teeth and spitting the foil on the bed next to him as his cock sprung forward.

he held the condom between his teeth as he gripped his length, tugging on the shaft a few times until he leaned back over you again, his right hand resting by your head as he balanced himself above you. with his other hand, he ran his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness before placing them on his cock, smearing the glistening slick along his shaft. you watched with an open mouth and heavy eyes, fascinated by the way he handled himself.

"eddie," you whined, hips wiggling against the mattress in desperation, body completely driven by your baser instincts now. you didn't just want eddie's cock inside of you; at this point it had become a dire need, a need you were so close to getting that it almost made you cry. it was all you could think about now, every thought running over the other as your mind became jumbled with it.

"i know, princess, i know," he grinned, glancing up at your lust-filled eyes while he continued to stroke his cock. he grips his shaft tightly, moving forward on his knees ever so slightly to bring his head closer to your pussy. "i just gotta get my cock nice and wet before i can fill you up, okay?" his voice gets quieter as he focuses on guiding the tip of his cock to your folds, and the both of you let out load moans as it comes into contact. holding the base, he rocks his hips against yours as he lets his cock slide through your wet folds, the tip of him brushing against your sensitive clit with every thrust.

you honestly think that you can come again from the sensation of everything alone; the feeling of eddie's hair around your face, his fingers gripping into your waist as he guides his cock through your folds, your slick covering more and more of his shaft with each pass, his rough moans filling your ears. you start to rock your hips with his movements, and just when you think eddie might say 'fuck it' and slip himself into you without the condom, he pulls away again, chuckling as he hears you whine.

"patience, babe. the last thing we need is a little munson running around this damn trailer," he teases, removing the condom from between his teeth and sliding it on his shaft. even though he was messing with you, the thought of eddie being a father was sending shivers through your body. fuck, you were in deep with this man. he must have seen something flash in your eyes because he hesitated for a moment before winking down at you.

he positioned himself over you once more, tapping your thighs to make you wrap them around his waist. he pressed a kiss onto your nose, pressing his forehead against yours as he slowly, slowly, slide himself into your pussy. your mouth drops open as a loud whimper emits from your throat, your legs tightening themselves around his body as he continues to push forward. his hands turn to fists against the pillow as his hips snap against yours, his cock fully seated inside you.

"jesus fucking christ, y/n," he pants, his breath hot as it caresses over your ear, goosebumps littering your skin at the sensation. "how the fuck do you feel tighter each time i fuck you?" his question falls on deaf ears, as your whimpers block out his voice. you can feel him so deep inside you, and even without him moving, you feel completely and utterly at bliss. your hips shift against his slightly as you seek out the pleasure, the heat, and it pushes him even further, making the two of you curse.

"so deep, eddie..." you whimper, head tossing against the pillow slightly as you reach up to grip his forearm. "i can't... oh, fuck." he had started to pull out, the feeling of fullness going away the further he moved, and you almost sobbed, trying to lift your hips up to follow him. he let out a mangled laugh, his hand on your hip pressing down roughly to keep you from moving too much, shushing your cries.

when he barely had the head of his cock inside, he thrusted forward again, much quicker this time, and you had to slap your hand on top of your mouth to stifle a scream. he rutted his hips into yours, his pelvic bone brushing against your clit. "oh, god. your little pussy is pure heaven, princess. and it was made just for me, huh?" he panted into your ear, starting to move his cock in and out of your soaking pussy with more speed. one of your legs slipped from his waist, and he slide his hand down your hips, resting it against the fat of your inner thigh to hold your legs open.

"fuck, fuck, fuckfuck," you cried, back arching as eddie started pounding into you relentlessly. his cock was filling you so full, hitting every little sweet spot inside of you, and you were unable to think of anything else, to say anything else. a drop of sweat fell from eddie's forehead onto your own, his eyes screwed shut as he focused on the feeling of your tight, wet pussy clenching around his throbbing cock. the hand against your mouth slid down to your chest, down to eddie's waist, and you held on to his hip as he thrusted into you.

the sound of the bed squeaking from his movements filled the room, along with the clanking of eddie's belt buckle as his hips moved in a steady pace. he had buried his face into your neck, his hot pants fanning across your skin, and his fingers on your inner thigh were squeezing tightly as he forced himself to hold back on his orgasm. he desperately needed to make you come again, needed to feel the way your wetness flooded around his cock.

and you were almost there, too. your body had never felt so hot on the inside, never felt as electrified as it did right now. your mind had been clearing up from the joint, but the way eddie was fucking you had you right back in that oblivious state; so mindless that the only thing you could think of was his cock. each stroke of his cock was bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and before you knew it, you were begging eddie in a way you never had before.

"oh my god, eddie, please - please," you sobbed, your body shaking slightly as the feeling became too much to handle. your hands had started to shake, and your hips were moving to meet eddie's as he fucked you, so lost in his own pleasure that he was essentially just using your body at this point. "i need, mygod, please just- eddie..." his hand on your thigh had moved up to where your bodies were joined, roughly swiping his thumb against your overstimulated clit, and you immediately burst, body going rigid and then slack as your orgasm flooded through your body.

"holy fuck, oh jesus," eddie groaned, his movements faltering as he felt you collapse against the bed, his cock being suffocated by the tightness of your pussy while you came. the faintest whimper of his name falling from your mouth is what set him off, and his hips ground into yours as he leaned down to bite your shoulder, the action effectively stopping him from almost yelling out into the trailer. you groaned as you felt his teeth sink into you, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

you could feel his cock throbbing inside you as he came, and your hand on his hip relaxed enough to where you could trail your fingers against his skin, coaxing him through his orgasm. he finally let up from your shoulder, the bite stinging a bit as the cold air hit the surface, and you knew tomorrow there would be a pretty nasty bruise surrounding the area. this definitely wasn't the first time eddie had bitten you, and you knew - hoped - it wouldn't be the last.

soon the sound of your breathing was all you could hear in the bedroom as you both came down from your orgasms, eddie's body molding into yours as he rested his head on your chest. you carded your fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling blissfully fucked and satisfied, and even though you had lost his little game, a huge part of you felt like maybe you had actually won it. and you said so yourself to eddie, voice quivering slightly but accompanied by a little laugh.

and eddie just leaned up on his hands, which were placed on either side of your head against the pillow behind you. his mouth slowly spread into a wicked grin, his laugh lines creasing into his cheeks. "oh, princess," he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "i'm just getting started."

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shegoesbyjoy · 3 years ago

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i've been thinking a lot about why Disco Elysium in particular has touched the core of my being in a way no other piece of media has and i think there are several factors at play here. this is half a review and half me dumping my various thoughts on this game ever since i finished it a couple months ago.

AS A VIDEO GAME ITSELF—i've been trying to identify what exactly it is about certain games that causes them to rise above all the rest that i've played, and i have come to the realization that in all of them, combat is usually one of the least consequential things on that list. i love Hades, have dumped 160+ hrs into it, but despite it being a very combat-heavy game with extremely tight controls that i do find truly satisfying, that is not what kept me playing. it's the characters, the art, the story, the world-building, the music...

similarly, while the combat in Horizon Zero Dawn is really quite fun, what really charmed me about it was its spunky, badass protagonist and fascinating mechanical creature designs, in addition to the story set in a world that captivated me from beginning to end. Night in the Woods took my breath away with its emotional & poignant writing told through a unique & delightful art style. i didn't even finish The Last of Us, but Ellie's moment with the giraffes is ingrained in my brain—and of course i went ahead and watched someone else play through to the end so i could enjoy the rest of the story without having to slog through zombie fights myself. so while i always appreciate well-executed combat in games (and have given up on games that do it too poorly), it's never what keeps my interest.

SO. what happens when you take combat out of a game entirely, and absolutely excel at everything else? you see where this is going.

THE CHOICE OF MEDIUM—the fact that DE's story was told through a video game (as opposed to a book, a show, a movie, etc.) is absolutely crucial, because of your active role in the consumption of said story. i think that's what gives some of its scenes such devastating emotional impact. watching this train wreck of a character that you happen to be playing blurt out the most unhinged responses despite your best attempt to salvage the situation, coming to terms with the awful reality of what's in front of you at the same time Harry does, seeing the immediate results of your choices as well as slowly realizing how your choices affect the story long-term as the pieces start coming together... all of this creates an immersive experience that is unparalleled. the game doesn't take self-insert so seriously that the protagonist ~can be anyone~ (Harry's characterization is, in fact, very strong and well-established) but there's absolutely no way a Disco Elysium book or show would have the same impact as me having to progress the story by fucking around and finding out.

GAME SPOILERS AHEAD—combining these two aspects of DE helps to explain what made the tribunal the MOST TENSE i've ever felt playing a video game. this is essentially as close to combat as you'll get in this game. you've just spent the last 20-30 hours becoming very familiar with the mechanics of the game with regards to the dice rolls. you become accustomed to the fact that most skill checks are white so you can come back to them, and that red checks are comparatively rare. enter the tribunal: suddenly you have several very high stakes red checks in a row. you can't leave. you can't try an individual check again if you fail. the story itself has been alluding to this very moment throughout the game. people are DYING, and the lives of those that remain, including your own, are on the line. your earlier decisions have come to a head.

it was 3 am when i got to this point in the game, and the reality of the situation i found myself in shook off every bit of sleepiness i'd been feeling up to this point—my eyes were wide open and my heart was pounding.

i know many people who play video games derive a lot of satisfaction from perfecting mechanics, learning patterns, or deducing the weaknesses of a difficult boss. for me, this satisfaction gets dwarfed by the frustration of having to spend far too long dealing with it in the first place. triggering a boss battle oddly takes me out of the story, because it feels like a very marked switch from "being the protagonist in the game's world" to "sitting on my couch playing a Video Game", where the same repetitive action of "killing the enemy" becomes my goal, no matter what the game is.

by contrast, the tribunal was very much a continuation of the story with each skill check having immediate results on how that story plays out. no other moment in the game was quite like it, and i had no idea how this sequence of events was going to go, so every action felt extremely fraught. i was on the edge of my seat in a way no other game has gotten me to feel, because the weight of this encounter felt monumental in DE. and of course, this is where you come across an iconic skill check where you find out exactly how much your previous choices matter...

i was so damn nervous during this check i probably would've cried if i failed it lmao

FUCK YOUR EXPECTATIONS—this leads me to the other thing that's got me smitten with this game: the subversion of expectations. dialogue options are never written so transparently as to have a "correct" answer, and trying to stay neutral with my answers got me a well-deserved smack in the head in the form of a brutal burn about the dangers of centrism. we have 3-dimensional characters that make you growl in frustration one moment and your heart swell in the next, descriptions that make you marvel at both the beauty and ugliness of humanity, situations where you feel crushed by sadness and dread then want to cry tears of happiness because despite all of it, there is still magic left in the world. it's also so goddamn funny. this game is fucking hilarious—and what is comedy, what is a punch line but the subversion of an audience's expectations established during the setup?

Disco Elysium is a game that far exceeds the sum of its parts. it excels in its storytelling, its voice acting brings incredible life to said phenomenal writing, its gorgeous painterly art style is visually compelling, its music is flawlessly incorporated to full effect, it's intellectually stimulating and fascinating philosophically, and as a murder mystery (oh yeah that's what this game's premise is, right?) it's just plain fun to reveal clue after clue while pondering theories as to what the heck is going on. these individual components come together to create a multi-dimensional piece of media that's deeply human, yet fantastical and absurd. it's uncomfortably relatable while inspiring empathy for even the most unfamiliar of experiences.

for instance, i have no personal experience with alcoholism or addiction, but boy do i sure know what it's like to have a compulsion to apologize at every opportunity for simply existing—to want to cease existing, period. i don't know what it's like to grow up and live in a post-soviet country yet the experience in-game felt as vivid as ever, inextricable from the story's identity. i felt a pang of pained recognition in Kim's complicated relationship with his race as diaspora, and found myself wishing i had the ability to respond even half as effectively as he did with the Racist Lorry Driver during my own past run-ins with racist assholes. this game has caused me to think more deeply about my own politics, my relationships, the world around me, the power of art, the role of capitalism, beauty, hope... even what it means to be alive.

A CHANGED PERSON—a realization i came to a while ago while talking to a friend was that almost all of the media i had enjoyed up to that point shared a theme of escapism in one way or another. there have been many moments in my life where i wished to be somewhere else. to be someone else. i immersed myself in stories where the fantasy of it seemed so much better than the reality of my own life. this game forced me to reckon with where i am, who i am. and not only that, it encouraged me to be accepting and loving of the here and now, despite every single flaw i seemed to be obsessed with pointing out. it made it abundantly clear that constantly running away was not a viable way of living, and that flaws were not a reason to give up. "something beautiful is going to happen"—i should very damn well let it.

it's not an exaggeration to say this game has changed me irrevocably, and the fact that this impossible piece of art even exists in this world feels like a miracle. i'm so grateful that i got to experience it.

#disco elysium #disco elysium spoilers #personal #video games #wow this was long huh?#thanks for reading!

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winterkoya · 3 years ago

Text

forever winter ii

aleksander morozova x wife!oc , aleksander morozova x original female character

summary: Aleksander just wants his wife back.

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of small injuries, slight smut

part one , part two , part three , part five

masterlist

*****

“Has he talked?”

“A lot of lies. Ivan’s with him.”

As soon as Aleksander left the kids with Baghra, he went to look for Zoya so she could take him where his wife’s kidnapper was being held captive. There, in a poorly lit room right under the castle, was a middle aged man tied to a chair, with Ivan at his side to make sure he didn't escape. Aleksander wanted nothing more than to kill him, slowly and brutally, but he knew he was the only one who could have any information about Irina’s whereabouts.

“I’ve been swindled.” The man said, as the General approached him. “Hoodwinked.”

“My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of crime.” Aleksander said, trying to keep calm.

“Yes, I followed them.”

“Followed… whom?”

“They come from the other side of the Fold.” The man explained. “From the start they seemed, just, a bit… off to me, so when they left our stage, at the fete, I followed them to see what they were up to, and at the time that I walked into that room they were gone and I… Saints, it was… unspeakable. So I ran, I-”

“And I assume you had nothing to do with the tsarévna’s disappearance, is that right?” Aleksander asked him.

“The princess is missing?” The mad asked with a perfectly executed shocked expression. He seemed disturbed, stunned, sad, all at once. “I’ve had nothing to do with that, like I said, I was only following them… They, the ones who crossed the Fold must’ve done it, I– ”

“How much of that is true?” Aleksander interrupted him.

“He did cross the Fold with the others.” Ivan said. “The rest were lies.”

“What? That’s… no…” The man spluttered.

“Your heart gives you away.” Ivan explained to him.

“Do you know we keep records of everyone who crosses the Fold?” Aleksander said. “For the Winter Fete we had ambassadors from Kerch, Novyi Zem, the Wandering Isle, but you didn’t cross with them, did you?” He hissed. “No, you and your… crew, you have another way.”

“I don’t know what you mean, I– I…”

“He does.”

“I’m an entertainer!” The man pleaded. “Oskar, Oskar Krepkov.”

Aleksander got close to the man and grabbed his arm with all the strength from the accumulated rage he had. The man grunted in pain as he did so. He shoved his sleeve up, and saw all the markings in his forearm.

“Well, that is certainly… entertaining.” Aleksander said. “You are the Conductor, Arken Visser, are you not?” He spatted, as he stepped aside. “You smuggle grisha out of my palace! And now you’ve taken MY wife, Irina!” He yelled, not managing to contain his anger anymore.

“No. I deal in legal indentures. I don’t mess with Grisha, nor have I got anything to do with Irina.”

“Lie.”

“I don’t need him to say.” The General said. “I had a spy. Nina Zenik. Ring any bells?”

“Nina?” Arken muttered.

“Last report we had from her was that she’d be crossing the Fold with the Conductors and three rogues from Ketterdam. What their mission was, she didn’t know. She was waiting to meet you all. Now, poor Nina, has not been heard from since. Might that have something to do with you, Mr. Visser?” Aleksander said with resentment.

“No.” He answered without hesitation. “I don’t.”

Aleksander looked at Ivan, who nodded in response.

“See? I don’t know what happened.”

“My guess, you struck a deal with these three thieves to kidnap Alina Starkov. But you have a stronger relationship with a certain West Ravkan general who has notions of ruling his own country. So long as the Fold separates him from us. So you made another deal. You put on a disguise. And you played at being an assassin.”

“That’s right. The prize to bring her back to Ketterdam was a million, split four ways. But Zlatan offered me the same number… to kill her. Even more if I brought him the tsarévna as well.”

“Why is Zlatan interested in the princess?”

“To trade her for West Ravka’s freedom.”

“Liar.” Aleksander called him out. “I would believe Zlatan telling you to kidnap the princess in case Alina is too unapproachable, but you took Irina before even trying to kill Alina. Now I won’t ask you a second time,” he added, infuriated, “what does Zlatan want her for?”

“He plans on torturing her for information.” Arken cried, trembling. “He wants data about grisha’s movements, he’s scared they’re planning an attack on West Ravka… but figured a grisha would be too difficult to smuggle to Novokribirsk. A human, on the other hand… and since she’s the only human who could possibly be aware of that much information…”

Shadows started to fill the room, much involuntarily to Aleksander. He felt as if he would be consumed by pain, by anger, as fury burned hot on his skin like fire. One thing was getting Irina to offer up as bait but by the way Visser was talking… Zlatan had no intention of delivering Irina back. Not alive, at least.

“Zlatan offered me two million kruge to take the princess to him, so give me half that, I’ll get revenge for you. I can get close to Zlatan.”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge.” Aleksander said. “But first, you’re going to tell me where the princess is.”

“I– I don’t know, the three others took her, they’re probably on their way to Zlatan as of now.”

“Well then, have a guess.” Aleksander looked choleric. “Where. Are. They?”

Arken didn’t answer.

“Ivan.” Aleksander called. The heartrender started to move his hands, causing Visser’s face to contract in pain.

“Alright, alright… I don’t know where they are exactly, but since they didn’t have any money or means of transportation, my guess would be Ryevost.”

Aleksander looked back at the two grisha, letting them know it was their time to leave the room. He wanted the man dead. He wanted him to scream in pain, to think of death as the only way out of his misery, but he didn’t have the time for that, he had to get Irina. So a quick, although painful death would have to do.

He called his shadows, who slowly buried the man and his screaming under a black veil of death. It was done. He had to hurry and go to Ryevost, if he wanted any chance at getting Irina before Zlatan did.

Because if he dared laying a single finger on her, not even the Fold would be able to protect him from Aleksander’s rage.

• • •

“Here, for your wrists.” Jesper said, setting a small container in front of her.

Irina and the three Crows were sitting together at a table in an inn. Night had already fallen upon the small village, and Irina was glad to be around so many people, since she had spent most of the day inside a room, under the skilled care of her captors. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, the Crows weren’t that terrible. They made sure she was as comfortable as possible, and that she wasn’t hungry or thirsty. She hated the fact that Jesper had even surprisingly managed to steal (very reluctant) smiles from her throughout the day.

“Thank you.” Irina said, grabbing the unguent and spreading it through the injuries caused by the rope. She sneakily looked around and figured it wouldn’t be too hard to stand up and leave the place. Actually getting to run away would be very much impossible, that much she knew. She had seen first hand how handy Jesper was with guns and how much of an artist Inej with knives.

“Thinking about making a run for it?” Jesper cackled. “Are we really that bad looking?”

“Please,” Irina snickered, “I’m not that dumb. Or strong.” She added, thinking about how the other guy had smashed her against the wall. She unconsciously rubbed her hand against her torso. “What happened to the first man… Arken, was his name?”

“Oh, Visser.” Kaz nodded. “Probably dead by now. I doubt Kirigan let him live after getting all the information he needed of him.”

Irina blushed at the mention of her husband, she always felt uncomfortable at other people calling him anything else but Aleksander. She didn’t want to know how feared or hated he was. Most of all, she wasn’t interested in learning about all the actions that had made him so loathed by most.

“Why did you leave him back there? I thought he was your associate.”

“Business partner. And a back stabber.” Kaz corrected her. “Believe me, he would’ve done the same thing to us without a second thought.”

“Was he helping you on taking Alina to Zlatan as well?” Irina asked, interested. “That’s what you want her for as well?”

“I don’t think you’re in the position of asking so many questions.” Kaz said coldly. “What we are to do with Alina is none of your business.”

“It is if I care about her.” Irina snapped. “I don’t want her to get hurt, or used. My husband will kill you for that, you know. He’ll think you were the ones who kidnapped Alina. He won’t believe she left on her own.”

“I’m more afraid of what he’ll do to us when he finds we are the ones taking you to Zlatan.”

Irina just shrugged her shoulders. Aleksander would definitely be more worried about finding the Sun Summoner than her. Especially when he was so close to finding the stag. She quickly forced herself to think about something else, wondering about what her husband wanted to do with Morozova’s science wasn’t a particularly cheerful activity.

“The alarm trigger is set.” Inej walked up to their table. “The horses are ready and I’ve stashed the rest of our gear.” She explained.

“If we don’t move soon, the Black General will be on top of us.” Kaz said. “We can’t waste any more time looking for the girl. We already have this one, let’s take her to Zlatan and call it a day, shall we?”

“You know, I’m not some sort of ‘bounty’.” Irina complained, mad. “Is it really that hard for you to say my name instead of ‘this one’ or ‘target’?”

“I call you Irina.”

“I know you do, Jesper. I meant this one.” She pointed angrily towards Kaz.

“You know, you have a pretty big mouth for someone who’s being held captive.” Kaz snapped at her. “Why don’t you finish your meal first, instead of trying to pick a fight with us? It wasn’t free, you know.”

“Well, if you had sold the dress I had to take off you could've made a lot of kruge.” She hissed, bringing a spoon full of food to her mouth. “Now, it’s going to blow up because of that trap you put on the carriage.”

“Well… a dress as opulent as that one would draw too much attention to us. The less questions we’re asked, the better.” Kaz hurried to say.

“Aaaand… we also didn’t think of that.” Jesper complained, with a sour expression on his face. He seemed insulted by the fact that he –a mastermind of trade– hadn’t come up with the idea.. “Why didn’t we think about that?”

“You could try and get it back.” Irina said, but then a major explosion shaked the whole building. “Or not.”

People around them started to panic, wondering where such a noise had come from and if it meant they were in danger.

“Our alarm.” Jesper said.

“Split up, it’s much easier to take a Grisha one –on– one than a whole squad of them. Rendezvous at the fountain.” Kaz said. “You are coming with me.”

He quickly put a restraint on her wrists, and forced her to follow them outside, where they found a whole battalion of Grisha waiting for them. Irina recognised Ivan, Zoya and Polina, and shyly tried to say hi to them, before she was pulled again by Kaz.

“Move!”

And so she started following Kaz through the narrow alleys of the city, with her heart beating fast on her chest. If other Grisha were there, most probably Aleksander was somewhere close as well. Her excitement dropped when she realised he was probably there because of Alina, but it didn’t matter, Ivan had already seen her and she knew he wouldn’t stop until he found her.

She considered stopping on her tracks, and simply not letting Kaz run away with her, but she threw that thought away when she remembered the man was armed. Between a bounty and his life, he would certainly not think twice before harming her to run away. Also, (and she hated herself for it) she didn’t like the idea of Kaz, or Jesper or Inej for that matter, getting brutally murdered.

“I think we should start walking now.” He told her, slowing down. “All the noise from us running would only bring unwanted attention to ourselves.” However, she noticed the way the man was limping. She hadn’t questioned him about what had happened, but she guessed it was most probably an old wound.

Irina just nodded, and used that time to catch her breath again. She was about to ask him about his leg, when he suddenly drew a knife from his pocket.

“Wha–” She started to ask, panic rising on her chest, but before she could scream, he was already using it to try and cut the rope around her wrists.

“You could’ve stayed still.” He said. “Back then in front of all those Grisha. But you didn’t.”

“W–well, they can be quite brutal… and I don’t like seeing people getting killed in front of me.”

“You were never our bounty, Irina.” Kaz said, gloomily. “And we don’t know what Zlatan really wants from you, nor do we know how he will react if he sees us and instead of Visser. It was stupid to try and carry on with his plan, when we have already one of our own. Jesper and Inej told me this morning we shouldn’t keep up with it, but I insisted. I apologise.”

“It’s fine.” She said awkwardly. “Well, no, it’s not fine, but I understand, I guess.”

Irina didn’t know whether he was being honest, or if he was simply an extremely intelligent man who realised there wasn’t any possible scenario in which he got away with Irina still by his side. Perhaps, both. He was about to finish cutting the rope, when she felt it. The shadows, approaching them. Aleksander was close. Irina didn’t have time to get happy about her husband being there to save her, before her mind turned into pragmatic mode. As much as she did resent Kaz and the rest, she didn’t want them dead. And, unless Kaz had something to exchange his life for, he would most certainly not be able to make it out alive.

“Stop.” She whispered in his ear. “If you want any chance at not being instantly killed, keep these on me. Trading me is the only opportunity you have, Kaz. Take it.”

“I have a couple of tricks under my sleeve, you know.” He answered, proudly.

“Yes. But you can never have too many with him.”

Just in time, Irina saw Aleksander appear in front of them, barely visible under the dimly lit alley. She smiled, looking at him with a warm expression. He had come after her after all. She waited for him to run towards her, to embrace her, to tell her how much he had worried. But he refused to even look at her.

“I know you kidnapped my Sun Summoner.” Aleksander said, taking a few steps towards them.

‘The Sun Summoner?!’ Irina could kill him. She was right in front of him, after a whole day of being held captive, and Alina was what he most cared about? For a moment, Irina wished Kaz would take her a couple more days, just to make him suffer a little longer. Irina scoffed, and started glancing around, avoiding to look at him. “And know you’re going to tell me where you’ve stashed her.” He added.

“We didn’t take her.” Kaz responded, taking a few steps back. Irina stalled for a second, because, angry as she was, she wanted nothing more than to run towards Aleksander’s arms and break down in sobs. But she was petty, and very willing to make a point, so she started to walk backwards as well. “She fled on her own.”

Aleksander was taken aback by his answer, not wanting to believe it.

“Where is she?” He demanded once more. “I won’t ask you again.”

“I don’t know.” Kaz said, and despite his efforts to appear brave, Irina noticed he was slightly trembling. “It was pretty clear she wasn’t interested in being a captive anymore. She’s probably halfway to Novyi Zem by now.”

Irina perceived the rage growing in Aleksander, and the shadows spreading around them.

“He’s telling the truth.” She said, as an attempt to help Kaz. “She left this morning.”

Aleksander finally looked at her, and she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach. Well, not butterflies exactly. They felt more like bees, Irina resonated. Because she was indeed almost buzzing from happiness and relief to see him, but she also felt the already too familiar sting of jealousy after he mentioned Alina.

He stared at her as he had never before. Whether it was love, relief, anger, happiness, pity or fear, she didn’t know. But he had never looked at her so intensely.

“Now, give her to me.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“I’ll give her to you,” Kaz said, throwing an apologetic look at her, “if you let me go. Unharmed.”

Aleksander stalled. He hated people stealing from him just as much as he hated being defied.

“Well, then,” he extended a hand, “give me the princess.”

Kaz let go of her hands, and used the knife to finish on cutting the rope. She nodded at him, and started to very slowly walk towards Aleksander. She grabbed his hand, and then she clenched his arm, a lot more strongly than she had intended to. He had come.

Irina let out a sigh of relief when she saw Kaz starting to walk backwards, but then Aleksander started to move his hands.

“You should’ve stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker.” He said, and so Irina realised. He was about to cut him.

“No!” Irina screamed, pushing his arms just in time. Aleksander covered her body with his, and then she heard a series of explosions. By the time she looked up again, Kaz wasn’t there. He had gotten away. A poor barril and the wall behind it had received the worst of the cut instead.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Aleksander instantly howled at her.

“You said you would let him go!” Irina yelled back.

“I never said so.” He hissed. “I merely demanded him to give you back to me.” Irina tried to get her hand back, but he didn’t let her.

“Well I didn’t want you to kill him in front of me.” She muttered. “Not all of us like seeing people getting killed.”

“You think I enjoy killing people?” He gasped. From all the people he expected such a comment, Irina was definitely the last one.

“Well you did seem a little over enthusiastic about killing Kaz.” She said, pulling her hand so hard he had no choice but to let go of her, as she started to walk away from him.

“‘Kaz’?” He sneered at her. “What, you’re on a first name basis with him now?”

“Maybe we’re more than simply on a first name basis.” She teased him with cruelty. She knew how much Aleksander hated being mocked.

“Is this funny to you?” He looked at her as if she had completely lost her mind. “Do you even realise how much of an inconvenience this was?” Irina stopped on her tracks, gasping.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She turned around to face him. “Did my kidnapping come at a bad time for you? I’ll try to schedule it better next time, don’t worry.”

Irina tried to storm off, but he grabbed her arm first. His hold was strong, but gentler than before. He looked at her, and for the first time, Irina could see how worried he had been. How angry. How miserable. It wasn’t usual for him to tell so much with just a glance. Perhaps she had been a little bit too quick in judging him. She started to feel a clump of emotions gathering in her stomach.

“Irina, what are we doing?” He whispered, caressing her wrists, where they were slightly marked because of the rope. “Why are we fighting?”

Irina stared at him, trying to hold back the tears. Her chest felt painfully closed, as if she were breathing through a sponge. She felt as if all the fear, all the anger, all the sadness, all the pain she had accumulated during the last day was choking her with a lump on her throat.

“I was gone, Aleksander, for a whole day.” She whimpered. “And then when you find me the first thing you ask about is Alina? How am I supposed not to feel hurt by that?”

“I am sorry for that, I truly am.” He said tenderly. “It’s just an old, stupid, technique. To make someone think you don’t want something that much so they’re willing to give it to you less reluctantly. I was only trying to get you back.”

Irina nodded at him, she understood. It made sense. She pursed her lips, feeling the back of her eyes in pain from all the unshed tears. She wished he would be more open with his feelings, to spare her from always having to think about all the million different things his words and actions could mean.

“It’s just that… when I heard Alina come out of the truck, my mind went ‘great, if Alina is here then Aleksander is definitely going to try to find her, so I should stick to her’...” Irina cried, “but then I punished myself for thinking so and I just kept on trying to convince myself that you would try to find me because of me, not because you wanted to find her, but then you finally get to us and you refuse to look at me and ask about her and… and…” Irina couldn’t keep on speaking due to all the sobs trapped in her throat. She felt her legs start to shake, and she would’ve fallen to the floor, hadn’t been for Aleksander, who gently grabbed her waist and made sure she instead softly sunk into a sitting position. He then took his coat off, and put it around her shoulders.

“Are you hurt? Anywhere?” He asked, concerned.

“No, they barely even touched me.” She sniffled. “My wrists are a little marked, but that’s all.” She stared at him. He had crouched down in front of her, and looked like he had hardly gotten any sleep the night before.

Hundreds of lives ago, he had promised himself he wouldn’t love again. That he wouldn’t care. That only made him and all grisha weak. For Irina, he had made an exception. He could care for her, but he couldn’t let anyone know so. Because the second his enemies found out he cared about something, they would try to take it away from him. And so far it had worked just fine, because, as much as it pained to see his wife not realising how much she meant to him, she was safe. Until that moment. Because him pretending he didn’t care had not only failed to keep her safe, but had also meant Irina could’ve died without knowing how truly, how deeply, he cared about her.

“Irina, if I ever gave you any reason to believe you aren’t important to me…” He said, stroking her cheek. “Realising you had been taken was the worst moment of my life. And I’ve lived many, many lives… It’s been a long time since I last wished I wasn’t immortal, but thinking about living the rest of eternity without you… believe me, getting you home safe has been the only thing on my mind.”

Irina was gazing at him, when she started to sob even harder and harder. She threw herself over him, burying him in a hug. He instinctively hugged her back, embracing her frame with his arms. Her face was laying on top of his shoulders, and he could feel her relentless sobs on his neck. They remained like that for what seemed like an eternity (to Irina, at least; to Aleksander, it hadn’t been nearly enough) and then she pulled back to stare at him.

“Is– is something wrong?” He asked her, caressing her back with his hands.

“Oh, Aleksander,” she sobbed, “you’re just really bad at letting me know all of those things, silly.” Irina tried to wipe all her tears away from her cheeks, but they wouldn’t stop falling.

“I know.” He mumbled. “And I shouldn’t rely so much on assuming you’ll figure it out on your own, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She said, letting him clean her tears away. She tried to stand up, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he embraced her again.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, concerned.

“I– we almost lost you.” He whispered.

“Oh, darling.” She said softly. “I think it’s safe to say you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Aleksander chuckled at her comment, and then he helped her back to her feet, and both started to walk towards the rest of the group. Aleksander never let go of her hand.

They reunited with the rest of the group, amongst whom she was glad to not see Kaz, Jesper or Inej.

“Moya tsarévna.” Ivan bowed his head as soon as he saw her. “Do you want me to call for the healer?”

“That won’t be necessary, Ivan, I’m not hurt.” She calmed him.

“Are you sure?” Aleksander asked her. Irina nodded, and then looked around, where a lot of people were staring at her, occasionally curtseying. She tried her best to straighten her posture and look as regal as possible, but her back and torso were killing her. She anxiously glanced at her husband, who quickly noticed her discomfort.

“Ivan, could you go get rooms for everyone? It’s already late, we should better stay here tonight.”

“Of course, sir.”

Ivan left towards a path on his right, and when Irina turned her vision back to the front, she saw a man, old, approaching her. He was a small, significantly shorter man, wearing an apron.

“Moya tsarévna.” He chanted, asking for her hand so he could leave a kiss on it. Irina recognised him as the man whose inn she was taken to by the Crows. She extended it towards him, as any kind and graceful princess should do, she was taught. “I apologise for not freeing you for those vile, grubby criminals before. I hadn’t recognised you.”

“That– that’s fine.” She nervously answered. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for the chaos we created, we probably scared all your customers away.” She said with a kind smile.

“I would like to offer you and your party rooms in my inn, free of charge.”

“I’d love to stay at your lovely inn, but I’m afraid I won’t accept you letting us stay for free.” Irina said. “I will accept, however, a glass of wine as a present, if that’s alright with you.”

“Of course, moya tsarévna, I’d be delighted to grace your palate with our most exquisite wine.” The man kissed her hand again. “Thank you.”

More people started to approach her, whether it was to simply get a glance at her or tell her about their work and shops. Irina tried her best to mindfully listen to everyone, even through all the exhaustion her body was under. At some point though, someone tried to grab her hand and pull her towards them, which made both her and Aleksander fall into panic. For a second, they both thought she was being taken away. He grabbed her waist and drawed her towards him, managing to get people to jump a step back.

“I think the princess has had enough for today, now if you excuse her, she will go rest now.” He commanded. “Ivan, have you sorted out our rooms?”

“Yes, sir. I was just talking to the owner of the inn. He says our rooms are ready.” Ivan replied, walking side by side with the man that had first approached Irina. “Right this way.”

The man showed the way to the quaint –but very charming indeed– inn. Irina and Aleksander followed the owner to their room, a beautiful bedchamber with royal blue walls and a mustard coloured bed cover. Right across from the bed was a window, with a beautiful view of the mountains, and a bathtub right in front of it.

Irina walked over to admire the view, while unconsciously tapping the bathtub with her fingers.

“Do you want me to call for some hot water?” Aleksander asked her, while taking his kefta off. Irina immediately approached him and took it from him.

“A bath would actually be nice.” She muttered.

“I shall ring for some water, then.”

The owner of the inn very kindly brought enough buckets of steaming hot water to fill the bathtub, and of course brought Irina a full bottle of wine as well.

“Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Aleksander, “maybe you have more luck than me at trying to open it.”

“Oh, Saints,” she gasped, mildly embarrassed, “thank you so much, I thought you wouldn’t bring it!” She noticed Aleksander was struggling to open the bottle, until it eventually snapped with a loud ‘pop!’.

“You didn’t seem like you were joking about it, moya tsarévna.” The man chuckled.

“Oh, she never jokes about wine.” Aleksander said, very serious.

Irina made sure to thank the man properly, she closed the door after him, and then nudged her husband on the ribs.

“That’s not funny.”

“I didn’t intend for it to be funny. Just realistic.” He teased her.

She glared at him, and then walked towards the bed. She started to sip from the glass of wine, while Aleksander set the bath for her, achingly staring at it. Her whole body kept on hurting so much, to be submerged in hot water (and wine) was just what she needed. She put the glass on a small table at the side, tied her hair on a bun, and started to take her clothes off.

“Let me help you with that.” Aleksander said, approaching her. “May I?” Irina just nodded, and he slowly started to undress her. She heard him shyly gasp when he took off her blouse.

“Milaya, you are hurt.” He muttered, stroking a series of bruises she had around her chest and back.

“It’s nothing, just marks.”

“Did those three criminals do this to you?”

“No, it was the first one.” She said, letting Aleksander help her into the bathtub. “Visser. The other three were actually not bad at all.” Aleksander remember what a quick death he had granted him, and wished he had tortured him even more.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call for a healer? Aren’t you in too much pain?” He grabbed a nearby stool and sat beside her.

“Please, I’ve given birth three times, if you can remember.” She scoffed. Of course he did, he was there for her holding her hand throughout the whole thing. “This is nothing. Pass me the glass of wine?” Aleksander handed it to her, and Irina took a sip of it. “Mmh, this is delicious… what? What are you thinking about?” She chuckled, noticing her husband’s absent minded stare.

“Oh, nothing.” He almost seemed embarrassed, as if she had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“Come on,” she smiled, giving the glass another sip, “tell me.”

“Is it true?” He asked, in a small voice. “What you said about Mr. Brekker?”

“What did I say about Kaz?” She asked, perplexed. She could see Aleksander’s face contorted with anger at the mention of the man’s name.

“That you were on more than a first name basis with him.”

“Oh,” Irina laughed, “you want to know if I had sex with him? Aleksander, are you jealous?” She mocked him, behaving a little too inhibited because of the wine.

“You’re drunk.” He sighed.

“I am slightly drunk,” she giggled, “but that doesn’t change your question.” Irina gestured to her empty glass. Aleksander grabbed the bottle and filled it again.

“Well,” he insisted, “did you?”

“Did I what?” She sneered.

Aleksander grunted and started to stand up, tired of being made fun of, but then Irina grabbed his arm and forced him to sit again.

“Oh, you mean did I sleep with our dear Mr. Brekker?” She teased him. “I won’t tell you. That’s my punishment to you.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.” He grunted, and Irina noticed he seemed (almost) genuinely upset.

“Aleksander,” she said softly, caressing his cheek, “do you really believe there’s any chance at all of me being with another man?”

He just stared at her, because whichever answer he gave her would be too big a wound on his pride. Irina understood that, and respected that.

“How are the kids?” She asked, abruptly changing the subject. “I hope not too scared.”

“They’re great, thanks to you.” He calmed her. “Anya and Eric think you’re on a trip with a friend, having the time of your life.”

“That’s good.” She murmured. “What about Kira?” Kira, who Irina knew, had too brilliant a mind to fall for her tricks.

“She… did notice something was wrong.” Aleksander said. “But she thinks I’m fighting dragons and monsters to get you back.”

“Dragons?” She chuckled. “The only thing you fought against was that bottle of wine.”

“Did I or did I not get you back?” He smiled.

“You did.” She whispered, closing the small gap between them. “And don’t worry, I know you would fight a dragon for me.” She said, as she kissed him. He eagerly kissed her back, grabbing her face in his hands. “I’m not sure you could actually take a dragon down, seeing how much you struggled with that cork, but–”

“Oh, give it a rest already.” He laughed, helping her up. He took her in his hands, not minding the fact that he was getting him all wet, even during a cold winter night. Because Irina was so, so warm. She felt like one of those temple winds in spring, that smelled like flowers and took the goosebumps out of his skin. She had the power to warm him up like hot beams of sunshine do after a cloud disappears; she felt like soft, warm sand under his feet after getting out of the cold water. More than a raging fire she could fight winter; as long as she was by his side, it always felt like summer to him.

He gently laid her on the bed, leaving kisses all around her body, invigorated by the sound of her moaning under him. It wasn’t until he kissed her just below her breast that he noticed her flinch in pain. He immediately stopped, and opened his eyes to look at her. He tried to back off, to spare her any more possible pain, but she wouldn’t let him.

“No, Aleksander, please.” She whimpered.

“Irina, you’re drunk.” He said, gently. “And you’ve had too tiring a day, it wouldn’t be right.”

“But I want this.” She pleaded him. She needed him, she needed to know that he loved her, that he wanted her.

“I know.” He kissed her temple. “But you’re hurt, and the most important thing is that you recover now. Let’s go to sleep, shall we?”

He laid down against the pillow, and let Irina fall against his chest. She could hear his heart beating, starting to slow down after their little session. It was comforting.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I promise.”

• • •

Aleksander was indeed there when she opened her eyes. Or rather, he was there when she briefly opened her eyes at the break of dawn. By the time she woke up again, later in the morning, he had already left. Irina looked at her side, feeling the emptiness of the bed like a whole in her heart. She got up from bed and went to the bathroom, to wash her face and brush her teeth. She then noticed an outfit waiting for her on her nightstand; a pair of thick, green pants and a jacket that looked a lot like the uniforms that soldiers had to use. Maybe that was the warmest thing they could find in such a small town, at such an early time.

She put on the clothes and went downstairs, where the owner of the inn had a very luscious breakfast waiting for her.

“Moya tsarévna.” He greeted her, gesturing for her to grab a seat at the nearest table. “I hope you had a pleasant night’s sleep.”

“Oh, I slept perfectly, thank you very much.” She smiled. “Is this all for me?” She pointed towards the multiple sandwiches, fruits, beverages and toast that were on the table.

“Only the finest things in our kitchen.” The man said proudly.

“Then please, do share this with me.”

“Moya tsarévna, I feel honoured, but I’m afraid I can’t do it.”

“Oh, but there are few things in the world sadder than having breakfast on your own, with no one to talk to. Please.” She insisted.

“Well…” The man glanced around, making sure no one else needed his help. “I could share a cup of coffee with you, I assume.”

Irina smiled happily when he sat down next to her, and made sure to pour a cup of coffee to him.

“What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s Igor, moya tsarévna.”

“Lady Irina is just fine.” She reassured him. “Saints, Igor do you like playing cards?” She asked him, noticing the pack of cards on the man’s shirt pocket.

“I do like to challenge some of my customers with an innocent game of durak, yes.” He chuckled. “Do you know how to play?”

“Oh, I haven’t played in ages, I’m afraid. But I would love to try and give it a go, and to get some schooling as well. I bet you’re a master at it. Do you mind playing with me?” Irina let a childlike giggle out.

“I would be honoured to play with you, Lady Irina.” The man smiled.

Both of them played for almost an hour, when the inn’s door opened. A strong, cold wind hit them on the face, and scattered the cards all around the table and floor.

“Oh, no!” Irina gasped, quickly trying to get them again. She was so busy looking under the table that she failed to notice Aleksander standing right behind her.

“Hm–hm.” She heard him clear his throat. Irina flinched so hard that she banged her head against the table. She backed away and stood up, stroking right where she had hit herself.

Aleksander respectfully nodded at Igor, and then grabbed his wife by her hand, directing her towards the room they were staying at.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She complained, trying to free herself from his grasp.

“What were you doing downstairs?” He scolded her, after closing the bedroom’s door behind him.

“I was having breakfast and playing cards!” She spatted.

“Do I need to remind you that you were kidnapped just two days ago?” He hissed at her. “And now you’re wondering by yourself, with no one to watch over you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She spatted. “I just didn’t want to be all by myself for two whole hours!”

Aleksander knew he had just rightfully gotten called out.

“I apologise.” He said, referring to the promise he had made the night before. “I assumed you would still be sleeping by the time I came back.”

“What were you doing up so early anyway?”

“We got a lead on Alina’s whereabouts.”

“Oh.” Irina pursed her lips. “Well I’m glad to hear she’s alright. When are we going back home?” She asked, knowing she was adventuring into dangerous territory.

“Well, that’s what I was coming to talk to you about.” He said, sitting at the end of the bed, and gesturing for her to do the same. “We’re going to stay a while longer here, until we find Alina.”

“No.” Irina said, decisively. “I want to see our children.”

“You will, in two days at most.” Aleksander said, starting to lose his patience.

“I wish to go now.”

“Don’t you care about Alina getting home safely?” He asked, in a harsh tone.

“Of course I want Alina back home safely! That’s exactly why I don’t want you to find her!”

Irina felt the rage starting to build up in Aleksander; she had crossed a limit, and she knew it.

“What do you mean?” He asked in a strained voice.

“I know what you want to use her for.” Irina hissed.

“So what now?” He stood up, looking at anywhere else but her. “You don’t want Alina to help us destroy the Fold?”

“I want her to destroy the Fold when she feels ready to do so!” She whimpered. “But you and I both know, Aleksander, that you have no intention of destroying the Fold. Quite the contrary, I’d dare say.” She added, in a voice so small it was hard to listen.

“How did you…?”

“Oh, please, Aleksander, I’m not an idiot, as you like to think.” She scoffed. “I am, however, very good at pretending ignorance. So if you want to go ahead with your little plan, then fine, by all means, I won’t be the one to stop you now. Go find that… that stag thing and do it. But I want nothing to do with it.”

They remained in silence, just staring at each other. Irina knew she had surprised him.

“Now, I wish to go back home, to our children, today. Do you think you can manage that?” She persisted.

“I’ll have a battalion come pick you up, as soon as they can arrive here.” He said, turning his back on her. He was about to leave the room, but then he stopped.

“How long have you known for?” He asked.

“Since long before Alina appeared.” She answered, shyly. He turned around, and walked towards her.

“Aren’t you going to try and stop me?” He asked, almost in defiance.

“I don’t think you’ll allow me to do so.” She said.

“I’d let you try, at least.” He said, closing his eyes while resting his forehead against hers.

“Alright,” Irina nervously said, caressing his arm, “I don’t think you should do it, Aleksander. I understand why, but I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“It’s the only way.” He whispered. “It’s my only shot at giving grisha the life they deserve. My only shot at keeping them safe, at keeping our children safe.”

“We don’t know if they’re grisha yet.”

“They will be.”

“Hurting people is never the answer, Aleksander.”

“You’re right. But in this case, it is our only solution.”

“Can’t you have faith in people?” She asked, already knowing it was a lost battle. He had been hurt by humans too many times.

“That will only end up in losing.”

“Sometimes it’s the only right choice.” She pleaded. “You can’t make barbaric decisions based on an uncertain future.”

“I won’t change my mind, Irina.”

“Then why did you ask me to try and do so?”

Aleksander opened his eyes, and kissed her.

“I needed to know you still had faith in me.”

Irina smiled.

If stories had taught her something, it was that a villain that wanted someone to have faith in them, to have faith in their goodness, was nothing but a villain pleading for someone to save them, even if they didn’t know they needed saving. And Irina was more than willing to take on that job. Because she had always loved stories, she still childishly believed that no one had bad intentions, only bad measures. Because fairytales had taught her that every villain was redeemable, as long as there was a princess out there who still had faith in them.

*****

author’s note: i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoyed it!

tags: @all-art-is-quite-uselesss , @sithapprentice , @duchessoftheheart , @emmamooney , @whor3forbenbarnes

#aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x wife!oc #aleksander morozova family au #aleksander morozova x original female character #aleksander morozova imagine #general kirigan #irina morozova series #general kirigan x original female character #the darkling #the darkling x oc #the darkling family au #the darkling imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #general kirigan fanfic #general kirigan family au #the darkling x wife!oc #ben barnes

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collindelade · 2 years ago

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THE SUPER MARIO BROS MOVIE REVIEW

Over 40 years of endless games and generational memories, arguably the icons of video games, Mario and Luigi, finally get the major motion picture treatment (not including the poorly executed live-action version best left forgotten). With collaboration between Nintendo and Illumination, the studio behind the Minions, Mario, Luigi, and their friends/enemies are brought to life in animated form.

Like many of the games, Mario must save one of his kidnapped companions from the evil Bowser. This time around, rather than his love interest Peach being captured, it's Luigi that's in distress. Mario and Peach team up to journey across vast lands to save not only Luigi but the entire world. Along the way, they team up with the adventurous Toad, face off against the snarky Donkey Kong, and race against Bowsers henchmen in the colorful Rainbow Road.

The biggest strength that shines throughout is the beautiful colorful animation and the brotherly bond between Mario and Luigi. Whether it's in the Brooklyn streets or the Mushroom Kingdom, the movie is at its best with Mario in action and bonding with his brother. Plenty of love went into taking the mechanics and rules of the game and translating them into a 3D movie environment. Plenty of easter eggs and classic scores are used to bring everyone's childhood memories of playing Mario to life.

The voice acting is strong for a majority of the characters. Chris Pratt and Charlie Day nail the balance of the traditional Mario Bros accents to more tolerable Brooklyn accents to keep their voices continuously entertaining to follow. Jack Black owns it as Bowser while having a blast being the comical, yet sinister villain. The rest of the vocal cast works in various levels, but the worst character that immediately doesn't work is Fred Armisen's Cranky Kong. His nasally and irritating voice represents the start of the problems to find with the overall movie.

Unfortunately, "The Super Mario Bros Movie" feels very much like a movie made by committee rather than a balanced and focused movie. One half of the filmmakers are putting their heart, sweat, and tears in successfully making a quality Mario movie. The other half is bringing dumbed down dialog overly explaining everything, throwing in pop songs that distractingly don't fit, and shoving every single popular set-piece Mario is associated with.

In just an hour and a half, the movie crams in way too many set-pieces that replicate various Mario games. Obviously the Super Mario Bros side-scrollers sections fit well, and there's more subtle references like the Luigi Mansion inspired spooky environments, but the Mario Kart portion grind the entire movie to a halt for an unnecessary sequence that fits better saved for a future sequel.

While it's biggest strength of being made directly towards the fans, its also one of its biggest weaknesses. Everything in here is very fun and well produced, but very little attention was given to make everything flow together. The excuse of "made for the fans" doesn't make for a satisfying movie when each section is just throw right on top of each other. Saving the Mario Kart section for a sequence would make room to expand the rushed scenes and do more with the sections that need more room to breathe.

"The Super Mario Bros Movie" is getting so-so scores from critics and near perfect rating from audiences. The actual quality lies in between both scores and incorporates both opinions. The movie is a lot of fun, but carries many of flaws. Chris Pratt and Charlie Day are great as Mario and Luigi, but some side characters are bland or downright annoying. Individually, each set-piece is well made and entertaining to watch, but never blends together in making a fulfilling movie.

7.5/10

#mario #super mario brothers #super mario bros #the super mario bros movie #chris pratt #charlie day #jack black #nintendo #minions #movie #review #mario kart #Super Smash bros #luigi #luigi's mansion #donkey kong

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pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer · 2 years ago

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Games in 2023: Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection (2/2)

I, uh, ended up with a lot to say, and rather than practice restraint and edit it down I decided to just split this in two. The first part goes over collection features and the three games in Vol. 1. This one covers the three games in Vol. 2 (and it’s still pretty long).

I’ll also repeat my spoiler-free tl;dr: While these games do show their age, the collection provides excellent ways to mitigate the negatives, plus there are two decades worth of in-depth guides across the internet to help you along. What holds up is a bundle of very unique and fun mechanics set in a world overflowing with both charm and heart. I absolutely recommend it. The collection has two volumes (that line up exactly with a major pivot in the series)—if you only get Vol. 1, I would recommend starting with either BN2 or 3 (BN1 is largely foundational and understandably rough around the edges), and if you only get Vol. 2 I would recommend starting with BN6 (it’s remarkably well-refined and far less divisive than BN4 and 5).

Resuming execution…

So now we come to…BN4. Right. Well, first things first: as I’ve said previously, I find it really unfortunate that this game has the reputation that it does considering the vast quantity of work that must have gone into it. BN4 takes the series in a completely new direction, with a completely overhauled art style, and…how many new systems? Emotion Window/Full Synchro, Dark Chips/karma, Soul Unison, Operation Battle, Free Tournament, e-Reader functionality…plus they made an entirely new villain who wasn’t even being manipulated by Wily (but still tied back to him through being his son). Not to mention that Red Sun and Blue Moon feel like equal counterparts, which is one advantage it has over BN3. They put in WORK, and BN5, BN6, and all of SF exists because of all that work and experimentation. I’d like to remember BN4 as an ambitious game. However, that…proves difficult. Let’s see, what’s a good positive starting point…how about the Emotion Window? It’s a neat way to add a new layer to the combat, and provides a comeback mechanic as well as rewarding you for skillful play. While I do miss easy BugFrag grinding, Full Synchro as a reward for countering provides an immediate in-battle reward, letting you push your advantage and inflict some huge damage. If you do poorly, however, you gain access to Dark Chips, which…are a really interesting concept, if you ask me. Unfortunately, I think they really erred on the side of caution with balancing them out, and the downsides just don’t seem worth it: get a major bug, lose access to Soul Unison, and PERMANENTLY lose HP?? No single fight justifies all that, let alone a single attack. Still, I do want to try a Dark run someday just to get firsthand experience with the mechanic…though it’ll probably be in BN5. Anyway, Soul Unison! Or Double Soul. Whichever. Love it! Short-lived but big impact transformations based on familiar Navis, really hearkens back to MegaMan’s “Now I’VE got your power!” roots in a unique way! Where did it come from? Who knows! (Nobody. Nobody knows.) Yeah, much as I love Soul Unison, I wish there was some kind of attempt at explaining where it came from, especially for so radical a shift from Style Change, which was already fleshed out and well-liked. They vary a bit, but some of them are really cool and fun to use, and six is a generous amount of forms to have easy access to…when you eventually get there. But, uh…let’s see, I talked about Patch Cards earlier, I haven’t tried Operation Battle or Free Tournament…eh, alright. Let’s really get into it.

Now I love tournaments. The N1 Grand Prix was great! But a game structured around 3 tournaments…is a bit much. It can get very tiring, not helped by the fact that it feels weirdly difficult to get your hands on decent chips. Maybe to encourage use of your Souls’ chip-charging abilities? And it tends to feel very disconnected from the “overarching” plot where you fight ShadeMan twice and then have to stop a meteor. Still, it’s not too big of a chore to fight your way to Duo (who looks WAY cooler than his Classic counterpart, don’t @ me). But apparently I’m not the only one who really struggled with Duo. Well, I rarely even made it past Dark Soul tbh. The point is, things take a turn, you realize you only have half your Soul Unisons, and you see “Start game 2”, and BAM: mandatory new game+! Where everything has more HP and you realize the tournaments are completely randomized. Then you get the rug pulled out from under you again when you realize you have to do new game++ just to get that last damn Soul…I’m so glad I knew about this ahead of time. There’s enough despair in remembering that there are separate achievements for getting all Souls in each version. Like…why? Why, when they were making the collection, did they decide this was the game they wanted to require you to play so much more of? Meh, I shouldn’t complain so much, I already wanted to try out all the Souls, it’s just that feeling like I HAVE to do it kinda…oh, nevermind. The real problem isn’t even that, it’s that so many of the random scenarios are samey and/or some variety of frustrating. You have to run through ACDC Area and usually also Town Area for every scenario in the first tournament, and then you have to run through Park Area for every scenario in the second tournament. There’s a bit more variety in the third since they open the world map, and I do like that they tried again to fill out the world, but there are high odds of the player being checked out by that point. And the mini-games, my gosh, the mini-games…some aren’t so bad. But a lot of them are. Everyone has their own most hated tournament scenario (mine is KendoMan) and it’s in large part due to awful, awful minigames (stop eating mY INPUTS). It just…the frustration compounds upon itself the more you play, and so very few of the stories you get feel at all worth it. I don’t want to feel this way about BN4. I’m honestly trying to be fair. Everyone always just dunks on BN4 and the last thing I want is to be a part of that. But it’s such a frustrating experience, man. Somehow I just keep ending up venting. Oi.

Ah, what else…Regal is kinda nothing in this game, but I like him in BN5 and having the new villain be Wily’s son is interesting. Also I appreciate the effort to change up the names of the evil organizations: WWW is…whatever that is, Gospel is a NetMafia, and Nebula is the Dark Chip Syndicate. That’s a neat little detail I like. I’m also really into the concept of Dark Souls, I think doppelgangers are the shit, the Sonic OC comic I made in my teens had Dark Souls as a recurring plot device because I like it so much. Uh, having a new method of traversal in the C-Slider is an interesting idea to try out, and it is kinda fun to ride. I wouldn’t even mind the hunt to put it together if it didn’t reset every cycle. Oh, and this is where the Boktai crossovers start! My experience with Boktai is still virtually entirely second-hand through BN and SF, but I dunno, I’ve always really liked the crossovers, I just think it’s cool that they happened. BN4 starts a bit light with just the Gun del Sol chips and Django and Otenko giving you a fetch quest that ultimately nets you the Nebula Code, plus the attraction in Castillo, but it’s still really cool. And it leads to even cooler things later! BN4 really is the BN1 of a new trilogy: it’s foundational, and rough around the edges, but there is still value in seeing it for yourself. Just, y’know…settle in. Pace yourself. I’m gonna move on now.

Okay, BN5! This is another one I have a lot of nostalgia for, I should probably clarify that right up front. It’s a divisive game, and I understand why, and I would NOT recommend this as someone’s first Battle Network. But no matter what, it’s special to me. Not to say I don’t think it has genuine merit, of course. Let’s just start with the elephant in the room: Liberation Missions. Boy can they be tough. Making an alternate game mode required to progress is always going to rub players the wrong way, I get it. But it’s kinda difficult to actually outright lose one, really. Also I like being able to control so many different Navis, and having the structure of recruit, liberate, repeat allows for version exclusive content to be front and center without compromising the entire game’s structure (like BN4’s tournaments do). It’s a very unique way to try something new with the battle system, and honestly, I think in part it seeks the same thing BN3’s Time Trials did. (I didn’t talk about them before because I still haven’t done them shut up) Battle Network has always considered quick and efficient deletion a key component of mastery—that’s why how long a battle takes is such a big part of your busting level. Time Trials dial that up a bit with further restrictions: a (soft) time limit and a pre-constructed folder. Similarly, Liberation Missions encourage quick and efficient deletions with a (hard) time limit, clearing multiple panels if you can win in a single turn, and requiring you to be familiar with several Navis in combat as well as keeping them all well-positioned on the overworld. Considering this is the fifth game in the series, it makes sense to aim more for experienced players who know their way around a NetBattle and are looking for fresh challenges. It’s for this same reason I don’t recommend it for newcomers, and for this same reason that kids playing this game would find Liberation Missions particularly vexing. Of course, in the Legacy Collection, Buster MAX does work with every Navi you control…

Well anyway. BN5 builds upon BN4’s foundation much the same way BN2 builds upon BN1’s. Dr. Regal and Nebula are brought back, now as a far more present and serious threat that actually manages to occupy the entire internet within the first hour of gameplay. Dark Chips are overhauled, now collectible as any other chip and needing to be deliberately put in your folder. Soul Unison undergoes some minor tweaks, the most significant being that their charge shots now scale with MegaMan’s attack level. Chaos Unison is also introduced, a way to both get one more turn of access to a Soul’s abilities AND use Dark Chips with relative safety! While you are still locked into first-tier viruses and chips throughout the main game, you don’t feel nearly as underpowered as in BN4, and higher tiers are unlocked during the post-game (and can be toggled!) rather than needing to replay the whole game. Even Patch Cards are overhauled. The Boktai crossover is also expanded, introducing the Otenko chip and giving Django a full series of Navi Chips, as well as introducing Crossover Battle…though, that’s not in the Legacy Collection, unfortunately. You do get Crossover Points from ranked battles, though, so you can still use the Boktai Trader. Also…well, first of all. BN5 actually has another secret transformation system…Cross MegaMan! Not to be confused with the Cross System from BN6. (You will confuse them. It is confusing.) There’s a Patch Card that you can use to overwrite MegaMan’s standard form, not unlike Style Change…except this one imbues him with the power of another Navi we know far too well. That’s right…Bass Cross MegaMan!! There are actually two slightly different versions of Bass Cross depending on which version of BN5 you’re playing, but they’re both exceptionally powerful and permanent unless you deliberately turn them off. (You can still use Soul Unison, though.) Of course, Patch Cards didn’t make it overseas, so this legendary form was Japan-exclusive…at first. But that changed when BN5 got an enhanced port on the DS! If, while playing BN5DS, you had in the DS’s GBA slot a copy of BN5 in which you had earned the Bass icon on the title screen, you unlocked the ability to play as Bass Cross MegaMan! But the DS version didn’t stop there…it added one more Cross MegaMan form. A form unlocked by inserting a Boktai game into the GBA slot…a form imbued with the power of the sun! Sol Cross MegaMan!! Yes, it was truly an astounding form…but it’s not in the Legacy Collection. So. That sucks. (On a related note BN5 also featured a crossover with Duel Masters in the form of a Giga Chip featuring a monster from that series. Y’know, for completion’s sake.)

It really is too bad that the features from BN5DS didn’t make it into the collection, though I can understand the desire to preserve the original experience of the GBA games. Come to think of it, the collection also doesn’t include the various things related to the Battle Chip Gates released alongside the second trilogy…that might be more difficult, though Star Force DX found a way to incorporate the Wave Scanner functionality…eh, not a big deal. Point is, the GBA games are still plenty complete. (Though this is the only entry to not include Mr. Match, and that is unforgivable.) BN5 stands out as a very unique entry in the series, and I hope to see opinions on it improve over time. Just, be sure to get some experience with one or two other games in the series before giving this one a try.

Finally, we have Battle Network 6. As BN4 was foundational like BN1, and as BN5 built upward like BN2, BN6 is the culmination of all the work that came before just like BN3. Even before the collection came around, there was already a dedicated community of players who found a way to battle online using this game, because the BN formula is so well-refined in this entry that they refused to give it up. Chip restrictions are reworked to a more case-by-case basis, facilitating the demotion of all non-Navi Mega Chips to Standard class—Megas are exclusively summons, and this persists all the way through Star Force. The game has two separate but compatible transformation systems: Beast Out and the Cross System (not to be confused with Cross MegaMan). Crosses are the evolution of Souls, giving MegaMan access to another Navi’s powers, but are far more accessible this time around. Souls required the sacrifice of a compatible chip and lasted only 3 turns, but Crosses can be activated at any time from the Custom Screen, and last indefinitely unless you pick another or are hit by your elemental weakness and knocked out of the form. These are kinda busted! I love them! Beast Out, meanwhile, lets MegaMan control the tremendous power of the Cybeasts the game’s plot centers around, powering him up quite a bit but only lasting 3 turns. After the form expires, you can try to activate it again if you really want to, but doing so will trigger Beast Over, rendering MegaMan invincible but sending him out of control until the custom gauge fills and the form fades away; if your enemy survived, MegaMan is left crippled, leaving you in an even worse situation than where you began. The Beast Outs are a lot of fun to use, though the way they move to auto-aim chip attacks can at times put them right in the line of fire. Personally I’m a huge fan of Beast Over, too, though it’s quite rare I find myself in conditions where it seems worth the risks. But I have used it, unlike Dark Chips (which are no longer a thing), so I’m inclined to say it’s better balanced. There’s also one more variation: Beast Cross, performed by either being in Beast Out and activating a Cross, or being in a Cross and Beasting Out. Each Beast Cross mixes the Cross’s aesthetics with those of your version’s Cybeast, resulting in a variety of really cool designs, and you have access to the abilities of both forms plus a unique attack that replaces Beast Out’s chip-charge claw slash. If you’re hit by the Cross’s weakness, you revert to normal Beast Out, and if Beast Out’s turn limit runs out, you lose both forms, so you need to be careful not to use up all your options too quickly. Being able to combine forms like this is really cool, and only serves to deepen this game’s already robust form system; I’m fairly confident in saying that I like it even more than Double Soul, though it’s difficult to compare to Style Change so I can’t yet name an overall favorite.

Something interesting about Crosses is that, after you get your first Cross and the associated tutorial, the other four are completely optional. In BN6, you gain access to version-exclusive content as you progress through the plot, but that content is entirely removed from the plot (save which Cybeast MegaMan obtains, but that’s a minor enough change that the cutscenes always play out the same). This gives the plot room to breathe, and allows for the version-exclusive Navis to each have their own unique scenarios tailored to their own theming as opposed to sharing “one-size fits all” scenarios in BN5. After doing these scenarios, you not only get a new Cross, but you gain that Navi as a Link Navi, meaning you can operate them while exploring the net any time you want! Having the world open up to your other playable Navis is very freeing, and you’re encouraged to use them through various overworld obstacles that can be cleared with certain Navis’ abilities, though you’re only required to use them during a few parts in the plot where Lan temporarily loses MegaMan. This is all described as a function of BN6’s new PET model, and I appreciate that there’s something to go off of instead of leaving us scratching our heads like Soul Unison did. I really appreciate the benefits of this approach, though there is a part of me that wants to give BN5 credit for incorporating version-exclusive Navis into the plot more.

There’s a handful of other mechanical changes. Side-quests from BN2 and 3 were brought back, though I find their implementation here to be a notable step back (the short version is that Request Points are superfluously restrictive). The Navi Customizer here is another contender for its best iteration, now giving you a little extra space off the visible grid to better cram more programs into it. Doing so does cause bugs, but BugStop is very easy to get if you know how, rendering it a moot point and letting focus be on the enhanced freedom of customization. I also think it’s neat how the internet is designed so that you can access (nearly) every region of it from Central Area 3. It’s easy to overlook given that Lan can just go to different towns and jack-in from there, but this makes getting around with Link Navis far easier. Combined with the unlockable links on Lan’s homepage all leading to different regions, the net has never been easier to navigate. The Boktai crossover is also back, now adding a series of Navi Chips for the Count of Groundsoaking Blood—obtained through a boss battle with the guy! Of course, the original English release of BN6 cut virtually all of this, even the post-game area and sidequest, which always stung. Many have said this was due to Boktai’s poor sales overseas, though more recently the developers have laid the blame on limited cartridge space; I do believe the devs, but it also makes sense that when choosing what content to cut during localization, the Boktai content was first in line. Thankfully, the Legacy Collection is based on the Japanese builds of the games, so all Boktai content is retained and officially translated into English for the first time! (Except for Crossover Battle, of course…also there’s a weird bug regarding Django3, check some guides if you want to complete your Mega Chip library.) I suppose this would also be the time to talk about the successor to the Virus Breeder, the Virus Battler. After buying a certain item, “rare” variants of viruses will begin to appear, and after defeating them, their data is stored for use in Virus Battles. Virus Battles are a gauntlet of fights where you select and place the viruses you’ve gathered onto a battlefield in place of MegaMan, and then let them fight the enemy viruses to see who comes out on top. Again, the inspiration from the Virus Breeder is clear, but the execution is very distinct. It’s certainly a novel concept, but when I tried to complete them, that novelty quickly wore thin. You don’t actually control the viruses, they operate on the same AI they use as enemies, which involves a degree of randomness. What’s worse, these battles are timed. I found these incredibly frustrating, and for a good while they were the only thing keeping me from finishing the post-game. At this point the only thing I still like about the Virus Battler is that the final one ends with a fight against BlastMan, proving that he’s so weak that even generic viruses can kick his ass. I like that.

From what I’ve seen, BN6’s story isn’t regarded quite as highly as BN3’s, but is still generally well-liked. I enjoy it a good deal, but I think the fact that the whole second trilogy is so cut off from the first unfairly handicaps it. BN6 is very self-contained, which on the positive side means that you can readily recommend this as someone’s starting point despite it being the final game in the series. Unfortunately this has a negative impact on its ability to function as a finale, though I will say it does a surprisingly good job of that regardless. The game starts with Lan and his family leaving ACDC Town, which they’ve lived in since the very beginning, and moving to Central Town in Cyber City. As a direct result, there are virtually 0 returning characters on-screen for 90% of the game, which is a hard pill to swallow and puts a lot of extra pressure on the new characters and locations. And it’s not all bad: I really like the way Cyber City and its various towns are structured, each focusing on a different aspect of “next-gen net society” to create a varied yet cohesive whole. I also appreciate that the villainous operators, annoying as they may be, interact with each other FAR more than in any previous game, having their own group dynamic which actually informs some plot developments later on. However, the main sticking point for most people comes in the new friend group that forms around Lan at his new school. The game itself on more than one occasion refers to Mick as the new Dex, and while I can somewhat see the influence, the comparison does feel a bit forced. Mick certainly has some potential as a character and has a couple of really good moments, but he has to shoulder an unfair amount of emotional weight due to the reduced cast and I just don’t find him up to the task. Hell, they never even gave his Navi a name. I’ve never seen a “major character” with bigger NPC vibes. There’s also Tab, who runs this game’s chip shop. I literally cannot think of another thing to say about him, because he gets so little focus. I guess Iris counts, but she only interacts with anyone other than Lan right near the end of the game, and is tied into the game’s plot in a way that sets her apart. In any event, I like Iris well enough. She’s sufficiently mysterious to hold the player’s attention, and she gets a bit of character development before the game’s over. She certainly feels more important than her X series counterpart! Dex, Maylu, and Yai do all make a return at the end of the game, and that is nice, but man, the entire second trilogy spends so much time putting these characters off-screen or just acting like they don’t exist. At least BN4 gave battles and Souls to two of their three Navis! This may be the biggest contributor to making the two trilogies feel disconnected, and it’s a real bummer.

There are some connections, though, and some very interesting ones. Probably the oddest-looking choice is that the Cybeasts are multibug organisms just like Gospel from BN2—it’s not a problem by any means, it’s just surprising to see the concept suddenly come back, especially since bugs were more or less supplanted by Dark Power during the Nebula duology. It is kind of nice, though, and others have pointed out that it helps explain why SciLab had some knowledge of multibug organisms in BN2. One connection I really like is how BN6 ties back into MegaMan’s origin, with the program that allowed Hub’s DNA to be encoded being not only part of why Dr. Hikari was tapped to help out in Central Town, but also the reason MegaMan is able to contain the Cybeast. And of course, Baryl and Colonel’s involvement is a major plot point, as is the return of Dr. Wily. Surprisingly, all three of them are fleshed out rather well! Like I said with Iris, this Colonel is far more interesting than the one in X, and even with BN5 setting up for it I was shocked to see what they were able to do with Wily. The decision to give him a redemption of some kind is…something to think about, for sure. But again, the way he’s presented specifically in this game really lends itself to that. At first glance it can seem like Lan is stupid to offer Wily a chance to reform, but when I got to it in this playthrough, it struck me that Lan was not at all eager in making this offer. I don’t have the script in front of me right now, but I remember him sounding a bit hesitant, like he was forcing himself to do it out of a sense of principle and not just shrugging off everything the mad doctor’s done over the past six games. Maybe I’m reading something that isn’t there, I don’t know. But if it is there, then honestly, it’s enough for me to get behind this development. I’ve said this before, but one of BN’s most recurring controversial writing choices being how easily some villains are forgiven is almost certainly a facet of the series’ theme of connecting with other people; even if it is a flaw, I think it’s a necessary one. Morality and redemption are complicated topics, ones I’m not even entirely sure about myself. If nothing else, these games commit to their stance.

BN3 is peak Battle Network, but so is BN6—for different reasons. Even with so much working against it, the game still provides a satisfying end to the series, especially with that epilogue. It’s nice to have a Mega Man series that ends on an ending rather than a cliffhanger! I’ve always been against the idea of a Battle Network 7, but y’know…after reconnecting with the series like this, after seeing how well the collection is doing and how much passion went into it, after hearing someone propose the next game being more of a spin-off starring Patch…I’ve changed my mind. I do think the Patch spin-off would be the best way to approach it (and I really, really hope they rename MegaMan Jr, I don’t know what it is but I hate that), but even if we do get a BN7 that adds a new chapter to Lan and MegaMan’s story, I’ll be super-excited about it. BN7 or not, though, I’m glad we got this series and this collection. It doesn’t matter if I never try the online features, or if Battle Network remains a closed book, because I got to experience it, and this new outpouring of love for it proves that it’s an experience so many others have shared. What happens or doesn’t happen next can’t change any of that. No matter what…we’re always connected.

#Mega Man #Games in 2023 #Game Night

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spongebob-connoisseur · 3 years ago

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Even though Poseidon didn't get enough dentition from the Third Movie, how would it be like if appeared more in the Show?

Okay unrelated but: when you said dentition I thought you meant literally

I think you meant a typo but for a moment I really thought you meant that about Poseidon and that you wished they studied his teeth. I was like "well that's strange but right on"

Anyways I think you meant recognition/attention? Something like that. Tbh this was something I was thinking about last year.

I assumed they went wirh Poseidon in this movie to avoid contract issues with paramount if they used king Neptune. Like what happened in the first movie where they weren't allowed to reference the 1st movie in the show for 10 years because contract issues. That's why they have a completely different king Neptune in the movie compared to the show.

I assumed something similar might be the case for Poseidon. Make a whole character exclusive to the movie. Anyways we'll ignore that stuff. I had some ideas for him. Neptune is the god of fresh water in roman mythology. Poseidon is the god of sea in Greek mythology. Poseidon should have been the rightful ruler of bikini bottom and other surrounding areas right?

It had me thinking. Maybe there was some dispute amongst the gods. Maybe Neptune and Poseidon are related? Maybe power was given to not by birth right but by capability. It's possible. By birthright, Triton should inherit the throne from Neptune but Neptune pretty much disowned him. The throne instead shall be inherited by Mindy in the future

Tbh neither Neptune nor Poseidon are good leaders. He's also pretty selfish and looks down upon the mortals. But Neptune is faaar more capable compared to Poseidon. Whom ever were the previous rulers of the under sea (their parents) must've saw how vain and hedonistic Poseidon was and decided to skip him and give the 7 seas to Neptune.

Of course to avoid Poseidon from taking his revenge or anything, they bestowed Atlantic city to Poseidon to rule. He can be occupied by ruling his little space while his brother takes on actual responsibilities of ruling the 7 seas.

And from how Poseidon manages his little city. Yeah, just be glad he doesn't have control over the whole ocean.

There's also another idea I have. Maybe there is a different ruler for each one of the 7 seas? Maybe Neptune ones one part, where SB lives. Poseidon owns another part. Would that mean there are 5 more rulers we haven't seen in the show yet? This might explain that Atlantis Squarepantis episode where the Atlantis is ruled by alien-like creatures instead of a god. Did they cause a revolution? Disowned their god? Establish a democratic society? Who knows.

I'm getting off topic. It would be rare to see Poseidon in the main series. If we're going by the events of after the movie, we'd see the true form Poseidon. The one who's aging, bald. That one. He did have a change of heart. I wonder how far you could push that? He abandons his underwater version of sin city to travel and enrich himself of the underwater world. He isn't a good person but he's trying. Very VERY poorly. With animal cruelty/slavery and mass executions in his hands but we won't touch on that. He'd probably still have LOTS of servants come along with him on his travels and pamper him. For some reason I can see him being faux kind. Like he's trying but it's like folks who discover spirituality or whatever and have a whole spiritual enlightening but they're still the same kinda scummy person they were before. Just with an air of pretentiousness added.

I think he'd regularly visit spongebob and the folks of bikini bottom. Trying to soak up thr local culture and try out living the life of a regular plebeian. It's not genuine because he has servants but he treats it like an enlightening experience. I think he'd also try to befriend average fish folk. Trying to be a commoner who understands them even tho he's deeply out of touch. Fish folk treat him well because he's s literal god who's executed hundreds at dinner shows. They don't want to get on his bad side. Tho they're pretty uncomfortable. Which Poseidon just doesn't see. He whole heartedly accepts them as friends💖 and they're like "uhh sure..? Plsdontkillme"

I wonder about his relationship with Neptune? Going off my first theory that they might be brothers. He might want to try to patch up their relationship. idk how they'd tolerate with this dude acting like his third eye was opened.

I don't think he's ever met his nieces and nephews so he'd try to connect with them. He'd try too hard to understand their interests. It's very superficial tho. Yeah that's the best you'd get out of him.

I think he'd really like krabby patties. He'd eat there regularly. Like neptune he just can't resist them and he'd also regularly visit thr krusty krab to see his 1st friend SB. He adores him so. Sponge doesn't mind but I feel like since Poseidon barely has any friends, he'd grow a bit uncomfortably clingy.

That's another thing. Mans never had a friend before. I feel like its only natural that he'd be too close for comfort. Inappropriately timed phone calls. Always wanting to hang out. Gets panics when you're not available and being so worried something happened even tho you just went out to go grocery shopping. Can ramble on and on for hours. He'd probably grow out of it. Or fortunately he'd go on his travels to explore other parts of the ocean so you'd likely get s break from him.

And yeah! Those are some of my ideas. What do ya think?

#Crystal-indie-gal #Ask #the spongebob connoisseur #spongebob #spongebob squarepants #sb #spongebon squarepants #spongebob meme #Spongebob movie #Spongebob sponge on the run #Ssotr #Poseidon

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pastelpaperplanes · 4 years ago

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Hey tfcon annon from before, youtube Team TFNation, saturday stream, 7:44:28 - 8:44:06 - 9:50:47

AYOO thank you very much!! And seriously thank you so much for the time stamps of all three parts

(anon is referencing THIS ask)

oh the reading was so GOOD 😭😭 rip a full season 4 I cry, ohh what we could have had. it went full circle. PLEASE 💀

spoilers under the cut!

I rly like all the references that the writers built into the episode! The eternal flame for sure (poor Op, just let him do his job the publicity and souped up looks,,leave him alone ajdjsk) and especially the little nod to mnemosurgery. morbid. but hey Megs survived and then some AHHH

I will admit. knowing far too much fanon vocabulary being used in canon—granted for ENTIRELY different functions and intentions— still had me chalking. I still need a moment cuz was very alarmed oh my fuck

Sentinel was about a stupid and awful as I expected him to be, yes I’m still in love with him. no I can’t explain myself when I don’t even know why, he looked v sexy in his suit. added beef is always appreciated in both tastes and looks and TASTES. AYOOO okay I’m done stop THROWING things at me I’m just so sad he roped poor Bee into all the publicity shit :’) Oppy was so good to him after all of that, I love how it took a reassuring little invite for Bee to perk up again AW. Genuinely disappointed Sentinel didn’t try to run w Rattletrap’s janky photoshop Megop pic. AHHH. I would have killed to have Op confirmed SPUTTERING over that nonsense my heart is throbbing pls let me imagine a senario where instead he goes ‘WAIT. HOW DID THEY FIND THAT’ Megs would have wined and dined his plucky nemesis STOP BOOING ME

ngl when Megs started tossing his goons into the power cell I wanted to DIE knowing who would come next, unless my brain literally shut off for those lines and chose not to listen to it—I don’t think Blitzwing was executed??? I have hope for my boy??? If I’m wrong pls don’t tell me lemme ride this HIGH. Rip lugnut you stupid himbo king, I worry for Strika though oh no how would she take it yikes

Jazz was such a pure soul my heart goes out to him idk how he’s such a LIGHT in the whole damn squad when he’s put up w so much. Him speaking in Prowl’s memorial service was sweet, but tone it down on the goovies and jives good god son. Jettwins? Flawless. Outstanding. All 3 lines of them. Could not have asked for better boys were they. sharing a milkshake at maccadams?? literally my heart is dying and crying that is the cutest I love those bros sm it physically hurts me

#JusticeForBeachcomber all he wanted to do was smoke weed and deliver his damn energon. No he does not get paid enough to get maimed on the job. The VA had me wheezing, my mans was so nonchalant absolutely literally getting manhandled then MURDERED 10/10 line deliveries alsjdlaskdj

Bulkhead getting a whole lot of time to shine I was so happyyyyy and ooo getting to see him reunite on the farm granted it ended piss poorly was so cool!! My boy is so valid and I’m so proud, he deserves some stickers over his battle scars

Ratchet,,hbhhhbbb snffnf :’) and Acree :’DDDD AHHHHH theyre too damn cute I need me a sweet little fic with that much needed quiet night

Absolutely fucking THRILLED to find out that Sari is likely gonna live forever seeing that she doesn’t need to sustain herself like, at all. Her upset about Burger Bot oml ajsnksw girlie can you still taste?? do you chew and spit now I’m sobbing real tears for her

Optimus has got to be my fav little journey out of the whole entire reading. He is SO tired and doesn’t like the attention or swanky vanity upgrades, please get him a vacation after Mags was like ‘you. you are my successor. why are you crying and sobbing and shaking your head no I know I literally crushed your spirit saying youre not a hero to your face but aha—‘ and then fucking dies. VACATION. STAT. Technically he gets one being stranded on Earth again. Now I need to draw an Op where it finally dawns on him that yes, YOU are the Magnus by rite of passage—and has a sleep-deprived conniption CRYING fit in his big scary clunky suit. the absolute epitome of Looks Like They Could Kill You, Is a Cinnamon Roll

Overall 12/10 the whole cast and guests absolutely crushed it. Literally couldn’t have imagined the s3 aftermath kicking off any better this was a TREAT!!!!

#SO GOOOOOOOOOD #no I do not regret staying up late to listen my heart is SOARING #transformers #asks #tf nation 2021 spoilers #tf nation 2021 #transformers animated

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m-y-fandoms · 5 years ago

Text

1 Thing I Love & 1 Thing I Hate About EVERY Danganronpa Character Part 1

Part 2

SPOILERS FOR ALL THREE MAIN GAMES

I’d love to hear our opinions as well in the comments or my inbox or DM’s! If you try this trend with DR characters, tag me!

Sayaka Maizono

♡ Her passion for her career and friends.

✘ The way she tries to screw over Makoto when the game had just begun. Like wait and see what happens before screwing over such a great guy? Leon didn’t deserve it either.

Leon Kuwata

♡ His voice actor (English), and how real and human his execution was in that we all would be so scared and irrational. It was just so iconic and sad as it’s our first introduction to the death in this series and we all think: “shit, this is real... they are really killing these kids.” I didn’t think it would be that brutal, just seeing his body limp at the end with the haunting music.

✘ His design is disgusting. I hate how he looks.

Chihiro Fujisaki

♡ So innocent, so kind, so intelligent

✘ Shouldn’t have been killed for such a stupid reason, also they did Mondo dirty with that motive for killing as well. Just a mess. As for the actual character, Chihiro cries right off the bat when you do your introductions and that was kind of annoying to me personally.

Mondo Oowada

♡ He has a lot of respect, understanding and emotions for someone I thought would be a hard-ass douche biker.

✘ The worst motive to kill ever in a game where you know you’re getting executed if you’re found out. Like you’d be extra careful and that’s his reason to kill? Lazy writing.

Celestia Ludenberg

♡ Bad bitch energy and her goth lolita design.

✘ Manipulation and double murder. Bad bitch energy only goes so far. Confidence is different then selfishness. Also, of all the chapter 3 triple murders... the worst motive to kill.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

♡ Emotions: secure in his masculinity, able to cry, show emotions, and apologize when he’s wrong. He’s funny and likable.

✘ The Ishimondo white hair thing was stupid. Taka was fine on his own.

Hifumi Yamada

♡ Writing takes talent, fan fiction as much as any other style or genre. Also the talent of his voice actor (who also voices Kiibo/K1-B0).

✘ Literally everything else about him.

Sakura Oogami

♡ I love everything about her. I love her wisdom, loyalty, design, voice etc. Just step on me, mother.

✘ Why the hell would she ever agree to be a spy even if it meant the end of her dojo? I just don’t think she would do that rationally because she isn’t selfish. The others would suffer for her spying. She remedies this with redemption in her letter in chapter 4 but still she should’ve said no off the bat. Everyone had something to lose. The dojo wasn’t worth spying for monokuma. Also I just don’t think she would commit suicide. She can’t help the remaining students survive and redeem herself truly if she’s dead.

Kyoko Kirigiri

♡ Bad bitch energy, calm and collected when I could never be.

✘ Especially in future arc of the anime, damn can you show some emotion please? Through your words and expressions not just your actions. Sure she was willing to “die” for Makoto but like I just want more emotion from her sometimes, even in THH.

Makoto Naegi

♡ So pure. I Love Bryce Papenbrook. Makoto reminds me of Sora and I love his design.

✘ In THH I didn’t mind his innocence but in the Danganronpa 3 future arc anime, when people started straight up abusing him and accusing him, he needed to grow a little backbone.

Byakuya Togami

♡ Love my dad, king shit, also love how over the progression of the games and animes he becomes a little more kind to his friends.

✘ Why the fuck did he mess with Chihiro’s body? Just so cruel and disrespectful.

Yasuhiro Hagakure

♡ Funny magic man. Sexy voice.

✘ Please. Please Hiro use your brain just once. Why do we have to prove Kyoko isn’t a ghost?!

Toko Fukawa

♡ Character development in UDG and I love Genocider.

✘ Putting down herself and others constantly gets old in THH.

Aoi Asahina

♡ Love her voice actress and her personality

✘ We really just gonna get everyone killed in chapter 4 huh? Surely you know they don’t all deserve that.

Junko Enoshima

♡ A very memorable villain with great hair and design.

✘ I just can’t stand her. I hate her so much.

Mukuro Ikusaba

♡ Her mercenary background is super cool as a concept.

✘ Too bad it wasn’t explored nearly enough.

Hajime Hinata

♡ Seeing the protagonist be a little less naive, innocent and positive than Makoto was a refreshing change, although I loved Makoto. I liked Hajime’s cynicism and expressions that sometimes just screamed “this shit again, huh?”

✘ I enjoy the way Izuru looks but I hate him as a character. He is sexy to look at but Hajime is just a better character overall

Teruteru Hanamura

♡ His love for his family and mother especially is so cute and heart breaking if you know the full story.

✘ He needs to know when to dial it back and quit with the perversions. And no it’s not just how he looks, Miu needs to chill at times, too.

Twogami

♡ I feel like he genuinely cares about his friends, just hides it well

✘ His death felt like a cop out and poorly written. It just didn’t sit right with me. Also his design is disgusting to me, his outfit and such.

Mahiru Koizumi

♡ Loyal to her close friends.

✘ I just have no interest in her as a character and I find her boring.

Peko Pekoyama

♡ Loyalty. Loyalty is something I value very highly in every form of relationship. Peko is also very hot.

✘ Come on girl... I know how you were raised but you should’ve known Fuyuhiko didn’t think of you as just a tool and you two should’ve expressed your true feelings long ago. Like even in secret. How do you live like this? Also I feel like killing Mahiru could’ve been avoided with a calm talk.

Ibuki Mioda

♡ Cute design, positive vibes.

✘ Cringe sometimes in the way she talks.

Hiyoko Saionji

♡ Beautiful character design and some very good insults and snarky remarks at times.

✘ Just irredeemably mean and annoying. Even when you do her free time events she is just so annoying.

Mikan Tsumiki

♡ I like her design as well as her hair, expressions, sprites and clothing.

✘ I hate her. I just hate her whether she’s in her true psycho form or timid stuttering form. She’s just annoying in my opinion.

Nekomaru Nidai

♡ So supportive, can hold my drink at a party. Respects everyone and wants the best for them.

✘ Bro Mechamaru was a stupid plot point. I just couldn’t stand looking at him and couldn’t take it seriously. Still sad when he died though.

Chiaki Nanami

♡ From chapter 5 of sdr2 on she is impossible not to love if you didn’t already. Just the selflessness, the sadness of the reveal and execution, how she returns to help Hajime at the end???? I love her. I love her hair design, color palette, her personality, everything.

✘ I’m bitter and miserable about her being the only class member to actually die (the despair arc anime) also her falling asleep at random times is kind of odd and she doesn’t seem to be like that later on in the game??? Like it seemed like a cheap joke but not actually who she is? Hard for me to explain.

Gundham Tanaka

♡ King shit, couldn’t praise him enough. He’s sexy, loves animals, and is funny as hell sometimes. His voice actor is a saint and a cool dude and I named my guinea pigs after the Dark Devas (yes I know they are hamsters in the games.)

✘ Come on dude. I get that being from Hell and magic and having evil powers is your shtick, but we all know that you and Nekomaru sacrificed yourselves so the others wouldn’t starve. We know you care about your classmates. There comes a time when it’s time to let personas and facades fade and be true to your heart. I just feel like him denying he cared at the end hurt. We all know he cared. I didn’t like how he was haughty until the end. He deserved better. I love him.

Nagito Komaeda

♡ I love him so much. So cunning and intelligent, always a step ahead. And he’s big sexy.

✘ Him killing himself in chapter 5 hurt me so bad I was like in denial for days. Also hate how Bryce Papenbrook gives him a raspy stoner psycho voice in the game then a light airy higher-pitched voice in the despair arc anime. It just bothers me. I love his voice still but the inconsistency just hurts my OCD

Sonia Nevermind

♡ I love that she’s so interested in her passions and love her feelings for Gundham

✘ Her outfit and bow are atrocious. Also why didn’t she start liking and talking to Gundham sooner on? Their romance bloomed late and it would’ve made for a better chapter 4 ending if they were a bit closer.

Kazuichi Souda

♡ Cool design and outfit, love his voice (also voices Kaito in V3) and his backstory is relatable at times. He’s also very human in that he’s scared a lot of the time or insecure or blames others in panicked situations. It’s not always a good thing but it’s human and realistic.

✘ Gosh he can be so annoying. Sometimes flirting or whining too much is well... too much.

Akane Owari

♡ Strong-willed and definitely someone I would be friends with

✘ What the hell is her outfit? Gymnasts and athletes don’t wear that shit. Stop objectifying her when it doesn’t even make the product or plot better. Like there’s absolutely no point to making her dress that way. I was a gymnast for 15 years. Even those who do parkour (which Akane seems to do more often than actual gymnastics in the anime and game) don’t wear what she wears. Also she’s underrated.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

♡ I love him. He’s the DR character I’m most like out of all the games and anime. Tenko is a close second. I think he’s adorable, love his character arc, development, redemption, and love his voice.

✘ In the anime/despair arc, Fuyuhiko is not done justice. He doesn’t get enough lines, has a different voice actor, just doesn’t give off the same vibes.

Izuru Kamakura

♡ Sexy man long hair good.

✘ Boring character. I wish he were just Hajime.

Kaede Akamatsu

♡ Loyalty and leadership are such attractive qualities in her. Also she faced her death with such class and dignity and I respect her because I could never.

✘ Some of the voice lines Erika does for her are just weird and cringe. Just random moans or grunts... I don’t know it’s like when Ann Takamaki from Persona 5 (also voiced by Erika) makes suggestive noises as well. Just grinds my gears. Also hate her outfit down to the hair pins.

Shuichi Saihara

♡ I love his nasally voice. I love his design and he’s so adorable. I love how emotional and compassionate he can be. He ties with Makoto for favorite protag of mine.

✘ That sprite where he sniffs his hand. And his ugly ass hat.

Rantarou Amami

♡ Sexy man, sexy voice, sexy piercings

✘ Ugly outfit, and wasted potential

Ryoma Hoshi

♡ I respect him and feel bad for his outlook on life and for how poorly he views himself. I love his little hat as well and he’s the first “different styled” character (Hifumi, Bandai, Teruteru) that I liked the design of.

✘ I hate when he says “got a long ways to go,” it’s overused and annoying, and wish he gave himself more credit. Also hate that when you first meet him he warns you that he’s killed people and is dangerous to be around. Come on buddy, you know you wouldn’t hurt your friends. Stop pushing them away.

Kirumi Tojo

♡ Competence, well rounded, skillful

✘ Boring as hell. I wouldn’t waste one free time event on her.

Angie Yonaga

♡ Dark skin, super cute, love her talent as an artist myself.

✘ Gives religious people a bad name and is super manipulative which I hate.

Tenko Chabashira

♡ I relate to her and feel bad when she’s misunderstood. She’s a good person deep down. Also love her sprites.

✘ There’s more cunning, funny and clever ways to write her digs at men.

Korekiyo Shunguuji

♡ I’m in love with this man. Long hair, voice, mystery, mask, intelligence, passion, talent.

✘ He definitely was a victim of abuse and a lot of people refuse to see that and just hate him. Team Danganronpa should’ve given him a redemption arc where he realized his sister abused him and changed.

Gonta Gokuhara

♡ I love his design except for his suit. Also he’s so cute and naive. I cried for his trail.

✘ No need talk like caveman. Better way to do this.

Kokichi Ouma

♡ Like Nagito, I value his intelligence and crazy cunning.

✘ Shouldn't have died. Also shouldn’t have manipulated Gonta. That was just cruel.

Miu Iruma

♡ She has her hilarious moments and her death surprised me and was sad.

✘ Sometimes she lacks basic empathy, i.e. calling Tenko “Tencrotch” when she just fucking died.

Maki Harukawa

♡ Amazing character development. Didn’t see her surviving until the end at the start. Also her love and passion for Kaito.

✘ “Do you wanna die?” gets old.

Kaito Momota

♡ Just the overall best bro you could ever have.

✘ Has some toxic masculinity issues and anger issues.

K1-B0

♡ Pretty much everything about him. His design, his attitude and personality, especially how amazing and cool he is chapter 5 onward, his execution made me so sad. He’s so innocent and funny without trying.

✘ When you do his free time events he’s very arrogant and just talks about himself a lot... it seems odd and not similar to the Kiibo we see throughout the game.

Himiko Yumeno

♡ Super cute design, love her voice and “Nyeh...” and her sprites. Her character development is great as well.

✘ Why did they take so long to make her important and likable?

Tsumugi Shirogane

♡ An excellent and well hidden reveal

✘ I hate her. So annoying, from the voice to the references and her personality.

330 notes · View notes

writeradamanteve · 4 years ago

Note

I get your point, but you have to remember jug said he was blacking out and forgetting stuff a lot back in NYC. So when betty mentioned the VM it could be that he automatically knew shes right and that was one of the things he forgot he about

I will die on this hill.

I’m not saying Jughead was not drunk or high, or that his history doesn’t explain his state of mind then and now, but THAT line about “That wasn’t my intention”? That was a screw up by the writers.

Cole ACTED that scene the way that line should be said—in any logical context. The fact that he insisted on re-recording that voicemail just to jam that square peg into the round hole is a clear indication that what Cole was thinking when he acted “That wasn’t my intention” versus what the writers ultimately came up with was totally different. You put that line in ANY situation, it implies that the thing that was done or said was remembered, just that there is a disconnect with how it was interpreted.

Now we can say Jug was always drunk, high, blacked out, but that’s US making excuses for this bad writing. That’s US making excuses for the bad continuity. It isn’t logic.

Logic is @heartunsettledsoul ‘s version of events in “You’ll Always Be My Favorite Ghost.” THAT is brilliant writing and interpretation of how that went down.

The first time I heard Jughead say that on the episode, I could not wrap my mind around how Jughead’s face was pure confusion while Betty’s was one of absolute certainty. And mind you, they weren’t disagreeing on him leaving a message. To both of them, he absolutely did leave a message. He just couldn’t believe she misunderstood him. Now that we know what the message is, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for him to think that she could’ve interpreted that differently in any way.

They writers should’ve either gone the route of @heartunsettledsoul’s fic, or they should’ve at least done the logical thing and had Jughead say something to the effect of, “I guess I remember leaving you a voicemail… but, I’m not sure I remember what I said.” Not “That wasn’t my intention,” as if he clearly remembered it differently.

Like I said—maybe that’s what the writers WANT to convey. It’s probably what they want us to think at this point, but it does not change the fact that it’s bad writing, they screwed it up, and now we have to jump through hoops to have it make sense to us.

Also, the editing truly sucks. The framing of “you cheated on him, Betty” juxtaposed with Betty playing his voicemail so POORLY frames the emotional pain of both Jughead and Betty. It makes it seem so much like Betty is taking her cheating on him as equivalent to the cruelty of his words on that One Voicemail, when it’s just not. The story here isn’t that Cheating = Mean Voicemail. The story here is that Betty hurt Jughead badly, and after years and years of her regret and his broken heart, after years of pain and self-destruction in their own separate lives, Betty’s one hope for reconciliation—at least as friends if not lovers, were completely shattered by that voicemail. It doesn’t justify her cheating. It doesn’t make Jughead as bad as her. But the fact that the writers framed it to make it seem as if Betty were thinking that way—LAZY AF.

We know that Betty has grown stone cold after all these years. I accept that, but this has always been the problem with these writers, right? They build a character a certain way then expect their viewers to fill in the blanks when they make leaps. Their leaps are—okay—possible, but way too fast in such a short time. It’s never smoothly executed. It’s always jarring, usually accompanied by a sucker punch. They can’t tell me TV is a limiting platform. NO. They stream one useless storyline after another—storylines we can do without. They have wasted their time on other things when it is better served for others.

Well.

I went off, didn’t I? My frustration with the writing and their nonchalance about their fuckups is really getting to me.

#rd negativity #RAS negativity #writers room negativity #this is NOT anti-jughead #this is NOT pro-betty

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crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

Finding Christmas again

Characters: Taehyung x Reader

Word count: 21K

Synopsis: After a lifetime’s worth of turbulent and miserable Christmases with your family, you finally make the executive decision to spend this year’s Christmas alone.

However, when you take home a box of old Christmas decorations from your friend’s shop, it seems that this Christmas is set to be different from the others.

ChristmasScarecrow!Tae x human!Reader

Notes: Here it is!!! My contibution to the @thebtswritersclub secret santa (and also their monthly holiday prompt, Holiday/festival)!!! And my secret santa is.... *drum roll*....

Hi @pars-ley, Merry Christmas!!!!! I hope you enjoy your secret santa!!

Anyway, I know the premise sounds weird but bear with me!!!! It’s kinda cute, I promise!!

Rating: PG13

Genre: Fluff, angst

Warnings: Mentions of divorce, fighting, alcoholism, depression, mean step-siblings (OC’s family). Mentions of house break-ins, some kissing and some ANGST, santa is real, really poorly explained world mechanics that are kind of glossed over because I’m lazy LOL

For you, the start of the Christmas season is always marked by Seokjin unboxing the stock for his December-long Christmas sales. Any stock from the previous year that didn’t get sold gets lined up along the shelves along with a few new trinkets here and there. He pulls out a series of dusty cardboard boxes, soft and collapsing from age and within are numerous fraying, gaudy Christmas decorations he likes to string around the shop to give off a bit of a “festive” atmosphere. Of course, an overstocked, tacky dollar store can only be so “festive” but Seokjin never seems deterred.

This year, however, marks a change. You sit amidst towering, overflowing shelves whileJin beams at you over the counter of his tacky dollar store and slides the first of the decrepit and infamous cardboard boxes towards you.

“If you’re being stubborn and insisting on spending Christmas alone this year, at least put up some decorations.” He insists. Hesitantly, you peer inside- the tinsel has lost some of its magnificent sparkly mane, but it’s still passable and there’s a few tangled lights that you know from experience may have a bulb or two blown but are still somewhat useable.

“I guess I could,” you reluctantly agree. Your small apartment could definitely do with a little apartment sprucing. “You’re not going to decorate this year?” You question. Jin shakes his head and beams, gesturing to a series of brand new cardboard boxes, freshly shipped. They’re crisp and upright in a way that makes the old boxes look even more soggy and pathetic.

“I’ve done a little bit of online shopping this year and thought it would be nice to freshen up my decorations. And I know you could use some decorations so I knew my babies would be going to a good home.” He announces, positively giddy with delight. Christmas always leaves Jin on the edge of manic. Starting the month off with his birthday and then finishing it off with the entire world decked out in festivities is like giving him a month-long sugar rush. Nothing says festive season like the terrifying sparkle to his gaze.

“Well... thank you, I guess.” You say. You’re hesitant but grateful. You’re not the kind of person who hates Christmas or thinks the grinch was a victim, but it’s always been a season that didn’t ring as joyful for you as it seemed to for everyone else. After all, for you, Christmas had consisted of you hiding upstairs while your parents had screaming matches while they were still together, and then it had been a mix of being picked on by your step-siblings the years you were stuck with your father, and nursing your mother after she’d get drunk over eggnog and cry over her broken family when you spent it with your mother. Perhaps this is your chance to reclaim the season. “I can load these up in my car and then we can get started hanging up your new decorations?” You suggest, as Jin finishes balancing the till.

Jin nods absently, counting under his breath, before leaning against the counter with a smile.

“That would be absolutely fantastic. Your santa hat is in my office- don’t forget it!” He reminds you. You groan.

“Do we have to do this every year? It’s demeaning.” You complain. Jin nods and then ignores your grimacing, returning to counting the day’s takings.

With a heavy sigh, you take your time loading the boxes into your car, parked out the back of the shop, before ducking into his office. Sure enough, two embroidered Santa’s hats sit haphazardly on Jin’s desk. You tug one over your head and grab the other for him.

You’re not sure when this tradition of helping Seokjin set up his shop for Christmas began. If you’re being honest, you’re not even sure when you started being friends with him, but this has been a yearly tradition since he started the shop, and the closest you’ve ever gotten to Christmas cheer. Your job is to string out the decorations in the least gaudy manner possible while Jin arranges his Christmas stock on his already overflowing shelves.

Back in the shop, Jin has just finished locking up when you come down the stairs at the back. He turns to you and beams, before gesturing to the boxes filled with new decorations.

“Time to put that interior decorator eye to good use, (Y/N)!” He cries, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. You wince- it would take a lot more than some Christmas lights to fix the mess that is Seokjin’s shop. Even a professional interior decorator couldn’t fix this chaotic mess. His shop is ten years past a clearance sale.

Still, you walk over and begin to open up the boxes, sorting through the decorations until you come across an older box. You thought you’d loaded them all, but it looks like you’ve missed one.

“What’s this box, Jin?” You ask, peeling back the lid to find a series of old, musty decorations. Jin pauses in his detangling of some dangling star lights to look over your shoulder.

“Those are the decorations I put up for sale every year that never seem to go. Even the words “clearance” isn’t enough for people to want them.” He sighs, and he’s surprisingly melancholy as he looks upon the unwanted decorations. You’ve never had much to do with the things he chooses to sell- frankly you’re a little afraid with the things you may find should you venture into the labyrinth of his dollar store. Curious, you peel back the cardboard flap and peer inside at the myriad of unwanted decorations.

Oddly, it makes your heart twinge a little, to see the stock that has been stuck gatherinf dust for eleven months. As dramatic as it sounds, you know a thing or two about being unwanted.

Not that your parents ever implied you were unwanted! It’s just hard not to feel that way when you’re born to a couple who want nothing to do with each other. The constant back and forth between your two feuding parents had constantly made you feel more like a “pass-the-parcel” package than a human being.

And when your dad had remarried, he’d always insisted that you were welcome, but it’s not difficult to see how happy he is in his new family. How his stepchildren’s achievements made him smile or how he’d finally achieved the noisy, warm household he’d always dreamed of. The household he never had with you. And now even your mother is trying new things- she’d asked you to come with her to meet the family of her new boyfriend, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suffer through the awkwardness.

That’s why you’d chosen to spend this Christmas alone- because you can’t seem to shake the feeling that you’re an afterthought when it comes to a holiday that involves spending time with your family. You exist, and you share their blood, but they have plans with people they actually chose to be in their lives. You’re welcome along, but not really wanted.

Jin watches the expression on your face with mild interest.

“Do you... want any of them?” He questions tentatively. “They’re a bit gaudy, but you could give them a home?”

You grimace at the ugly decorations- it’s not hard to see why no one wanted them. Tacky, corny baubles and cheap little mantle ornaments that a even a seventy year old grandmother would turn her nose up at.

But despite your general distaste, a tuft of red wool at the corner of the box catches your attention. You reach forward and tug it free.

A Christmas-themed scarecrow toy smiles back at you. Tufts of red, woollen hair peak out beneath his little santa’s hat, and two sewed on black buttons make up his eyes. His mouth is a simple stitched black line, a little upwards curve, and a little paint on upside down triangle makes his nose. He’s dress in a flannel shirt and overalls, but the overalls have a little christmas tree embroidered on the front and his flannel shirt has fluffy cuffs like the ends of a santa shirt. He’s sort of charming, if a little strange- why a christmas scarecrow? What an oddly specific decoration.

“I can kind of see why no one would want these.” You snort, though you don’t put him back. Jin nods sympathetically.

“This little guy has been with me for years. All the other decorations I bought with him eventually got sold but this guy is still unwanted.” He admits, taking the scarecrow from your hands to examine it fondly. “I even tried giving him away for free once but they didn’t want him.”

You bite your lip at that. The two button eyes stare up at you longingly, and for some reason you feel a sense of camaraderie with this stupid, gaudy christmas scarecrow.

If you’re taking a bunch of decorations, why not this guy? He clashes with every instinct you have in terms of decoration, but the thought of him sitting on a shelf, unwanted for a month only to go back in this dusty old box at the end of the year is too depressing for you to handle. With a sigh, you take him back from Jin.

“Might as well, since you dumped all your other old decorations on me.” You sigh.

And you miss the way Jin winks at the little scarecrow when you’re facing away from it.

You actually forget about the decorations for the next few days. They sit in your car, unpacked. You’re busy with work as they rush to wrap up the end of year projects before their deadlines. And it’s not like putting up decorations has a deadline, right? You put them up some time before Christmas and hopefully remember to take them down before February hits.

It’s when Autumn finally draws to a close and the first of December hits that you’re finally motivated to put them up. You’re in a deep clean kind of mood and when you duck out to your car to chuck out the various wrappers and old papers you’ve built up over autumn, you recall the boxes in your boot.

The little Christmas Scarecrow is the first thing you pull out once the boxes are unloaded into your home. The little button eyes gaze up at you mournfully, as if scolding you for leaving him unattended in your car for so long.

“Sorry little guy.” You sigh, straightening and setting him atop your mantle. He looks a little out of place with your decor but it feels right to place him there for some reason. This way he’s in full view of any guests that walk in. “Here. This can be your spot. Front and centre.” You tell him, and from this spot his button eyes look a little less mournful. With a smile, you begin puzzling out how to assemble Jin’s ratty old Christmas tree.

You’re in the middle of a youtube tutorial on how to make your tree appear fuller when your phone lights up with your mother’s contact image.

It takes you a few moments to steal yourself to answer her.

You aren’t on bad terms with your mother or anything. It’s just... for a few years after the divorce, when you probably needed her most, she just wasn’t your mother. And she’s done really well and gotten a lot of help and she’s in a really good place right now, but it’s still hard. It’s hard to talk to either of your parents, really.

“Hey mum.” You finally say as you answer the phone. You can guess what she’s going to ask- every since she found out you wouldn’t be going home for Christmas, she’s been doing her best to convince you otherwise.

“I was just at the store this morning,” she greets you. “And I saw all the ingredients for that christmas cake we used to make when you were small. Do you remember? And we always made it snowman-shaped and you’d cry when we’d eat it.”

You smile at the memory- it’s one of the very few fond ones you have on Christmas. When you were a very young child, before whatever your parents had between them went sour. Before life transitioned into hiding upstairs and trying to block out the sounds of shouting and being bounced back and forth between opposite sides of the country because your mother and father couldn’t even handle being in the same city together.

“I do remember.” You say.

“We could make it!” Your mother urges. “Just think- wouldn’t it be so fun? John has a daughter your age, and she loves to bake! She’s so eager to meet you too- we could-“

“Maybe next year, mum.” You say. “I’m just absolutely slammed at work this year. Besides, I’ll be down for your birthday soon. I’d just rather spend Christmas at home, this year.”

Your mother is silent for a moment. You know she didn’t miss the implications of your statement. When you had first moved out for studying, returning to your parent’s place had been “going home”. Even you’re not sure when avoiding your family for the holidays had morphed into “staying home.”

“I... I’m sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, but I heard from your father that you weren’t going to spend it with him either and I... I don’t like the thought of you alone for Christmas.” She finally says. “I know I’ve failed you in a lot of ways, but I don’t want this to be one of them. John’s wonderful and his family would love to have you. We could make room for you.”

You go quiet for a moment. Your mum is trying her very best. You know that- you know that so well and yet you can’t. You just can’t do it. You don’t have it in you to brave through Christmas with either of your parents and play happy families and pretend that the years of misery didn’t happen. You don’t want a Christmas where people are “making room” for you. You want to have a place that is just inherently yours.

“Next year.” You promise. Next year you’ll have steeled yourself. Next year you’ll have it together. Next year you can try again. Next year you’ll be a little stronger and more resilient and then you can face the mess of your broken family.

Your mother sighs on the other end, in a sad, disappointed sort of way.

“Next year.” She finally says, and there’s a promise in her words. Next year she’ll be better too. She’ll keep trying.

You stay on the phone a little longer, and when you hang up you just spend a moment in your empty apartment. Boxes are sitting, strewn around you and currently the only decoration is your little Christmas Scarecrow.

Oddly, he almost looks judgemental as he peers at you through the buttons.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh, getting to your feet and beginning the process of organising the Christmas decorations. “It’s complicated. You don’t know my mum and I know she loves me and I know she’s trying... but it’s... it’s just complicated, ok?”

You continue to ramble as you finish up your decorations. It’s quite therapeutic, talking to an inanimate object. It almost feels like he’s listening- there’s something warm in the little stitched mouth and button eyes. You and your scarecrow, both unwanted on Christmas day. You tell him about your parent’s divorce, about your past Christmases. About Jin and your friendship with him. About your decision to be alone for Christmas this year because neither of your parent’s offers seemed particularly appealing.

By the time you’ve finish, your apartment actually looks decent. The Christmas tree sits in the corner, decorated with baubles covered in chipped paint and balding tinsel. There’s lights strung across the ceiling and across your mantle and maybe there’s one or two missing spots, and maybe it’s just a little tacky, but it’s warm. It’s home. You’ve carved out a little home for yourself in this apartment, and maybe it’s not perfect, but you like it.

When you fall asleep on the couch, exhausted, you dream of ringing sleigh bells and cheerful Christmas tunes.

You awaken suddenly. Your heart is in your throat.

There’s someone in your apartment. You can hear them rummaging around in the kitchen. You don’t know how they got there, but terror fills you.

The first thing you do is discreetly reach for your phone. You want to call the emergency number but you don’t want the intruder to know you’re awake in case they retaliate. Instead, you shoot a text to Jin.

There’s someone in my house. You text. The response is almost immediate.

I’m on my way. He responds. You resist the urge to groan. You’d told him so that he could call the police, not so that he could play hero.

You roll off the couch and sneak closely to the wall. A metal bat rests there- a housewarming gift from Namjoon when he first learnt you’d be living alone. You never thought you’d have to use it. You never forget to lock your doors and surely no one has the guts to scale a building and come in through your balcony, right?

Still, you’re grateful for it now as you grip the handle tightly between both fists.

Hesitantly and quietly, you inch towards the kitchen. The light is on and you can make out a figure bustling inside.

With a cry, you rush forward, swing the back in a downwards arc.

Only for your terrified intruder to whip around and catch the bat with the palms of his hands. Ignoring the fact that he just caught the full swing of a metal bat without flinching, you try and pull your bat back to tru for another swing.

But he merely tightens his grip on the bat and this gives you time to take in his appearance.

There’s a lot of striking things about the man’s appearance. Bright, brilliantly red hair, the colour of Christmas ribbons and raspberries, a straight, prominent nose. A sharp, well-defined jawline and two warm, dark eyes, almost familiar in their dark shade.

It’s hard to know what to take in first. His startlingly handsome face, his brightly coloured hair, or his outlandish outfit. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look cute in tacky, Christmas themed overalls or a flannel shirt that’s an odd mix of a Santa’s hat and a farmer’s uniform. Complete with the Santa’s hat and the bright red hair, the man could almost be twins with your Christmas Scarecrow.

“Who are you?” You demand. You attempt another futile tug on your bat, but the man’s grip is firm.

“Don’t panic, (Y/N)!” He urges. His voice is deep and velvety but edged with a little terror. Your eyes widen.

“How do you know my name?” You demand. If you weren’t afraid before, you are now.

“Seokjin said it! In the store, a few days ago!” He cries, still pressing firmly against your metal bat. Despite you pressing your whole weight into it, it doesn’t budge a centimetre closer towards him.

“So you’re a stalker?” You cry.

“No!” He counters. “It’s me, (Y/N)! The scarecrow!”

That startles you enough to relax your grip on the metal bat. He senses the lapse in your grip and tugs the metal bat free. He holds it away from you and approaches you slowly, cautiously.

“I was just making you some hot chocolate.” He says slowly. “You seemed sad after your phone call with your mum and I wanted to comfort you.”

He’s crazy- a crazy guy has broken into your house and has been listening to your conversations for who knows how long, and has been stalking you before that.

“How long have you been stalking me for, you psycho?” You demand. His eyes widen in horror.

“I’m not a stalker!” He insists. “I’m your scarecrow- turn around and I can prove it!”

“What? So that you can stab me while my back is turned?” You demand. You make a grab for the bat. “Get out of my house!”

He manages to throw the bat backwards and grab both your shoulders as you lunge for him. With impressive strength he presses on your shoulders and spins you around. In the same motion, he shoves you forward a few steps and you stumble to re-gain your balance.

Enraged and terrified, you whip around, ready to retaliate.

Only, he’s gone. Where a weird red-haired man previously stood, your kitchen is now empty.

The counters are scattered with objects- your milk is out, and an open tin of cocoa, a few of your spice jars are laid neatly next to the pile of pots.

And, sitting neatly where the man had been not a moment before, is your little Christmas Scarecrow. He smiles up at you, button eyes gleaming like he knows something you don’t.

You can’t help it- you crumble before it. The post-adrenaline crash hits hard and you stare dumbly at the embroidered smile for a moment.

“It’s a dream.” You finally conclude to yourself. “This is some messed-up nightmare and tomorrrow this haunted scarecrow can go right back to Jin’s store.”

You grab it and hold it at a distance, your arms outstretched like it smells bad.

“This is fine.” You assert. “It’s a dream. Just. Just go back here. And I’ll go... run into a wall or something. And this will all be some sort of fever dream.”

You settle the Christmas Scarecrow back into its rightful spot on your mantle, before turning around. You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to run full speed at the wall just opposite.

“‘Haunted’ is a little much, don’t you think?” The same velvety voice from earlier asks, and you turn to find the very same intruder leaping off your mantle onto the ground. “I’m not a ghost, or anything.”

He comes to stand in front of you, arms folded and lips pulled into a frown. Looking upon him now, you see the similarities to the Christmas Scarecrow- even the loose thread in the embroidered tree of his overall pockets is identical. It... it really is your Christmas Scarecrow, standing before you in human form.

You nod to yourself, a peaceful wave of acceptance washing over you and-

No wait, never mind. That wave is nausea- you’re blacking out.

When you come to, you’re arranged neatly on your couch with your scarecrow hovering over you. You almost want to faint again, but you hold strong.

“You’re awake!” He cheers, waving a damp towel around. He’s been dipping it in a bowl of cool water and pressing it against your forehead and you flinch as his actions send icy drops over water scattering across your face.

“And you used to be a scarecrow.” You grumble, sitting up. You squint and lean in closely, taking in every detail. Each mark on his skin, each strand of bright red hair, the smooth curve of his smile... it’s so human. Probably the most ethereal and beautiful human to walk the planet, but still human. One of his eyelids is a monolid and the other is a double lid and one of his front teeth is just slightly longer than the other and yet the effect is that he’s just so charming. Far too beautiful to be sitting in your tacky, poorly decorated apartment and far too beautiful to be spending most of his time as a cringe-y christmas-themed scarecrow that Jin probably fished out of the bottom of a clearance basket at a thrift shop and thought he could get away with re-selling. “You have maybe thirty seconds to explain before I call the police. Or an exorcist. Or both.”

He holds up his both his hands in surrender.

“Wait. Please.” He pleads. The desperate way he says the words makes you pause. Honestly, the sane thing to do would be to kick him out. Leave the weird, haunted scarecrow out on the street to fend for himself and go about your days as if this particular little supernatural incident never occurred.

You sigh.

“Just... please tell me what’s going on.” You finally say. “I won’t do anything drastic, but at least explain.”

Relied and gratefulness shines in his eyes and he clasps your hands gratefully between his own. Your attention is momentarily caught by the way his large hands dwarf your own. The bony prominences of his knuckles catch your attention- they shift and glide beneath his skin as his grip around your hand tightens. For some reason, the tiny action seems huge. You lift your gaze slowly to meet his eyes, which are round and warm.

“My name is Taehyung.” He explains. “And I’m a Christmas Spirit.”

“Christmas Spirit?” You echo in bewilderment. Taehyung nods eagerly and sits forward. He pulls his legs together so that he can sit cross-legged and wraps his hands around his ankles.

“Yup!” He says, and he’s surprisingly nonchalant despite the supernatural implications of his statement. “We’re beings that come about from the magic of the season. And our job is to spread Christmas cheer to whoever welcomes us into their home.”

As if that’s just a normal thing that someone can spring on you and not expect you to panic! Yet he announces it like he’s a five year old excited to explain the drawing he made of you in school that day. All you can really manage is to nod mutely for a moment. Despite the absurdity of his words, it certainly sounds like what you had done- taken a tacky, unwanted Christmas decoration and welcomed it into your home.

“And that’s you, (Y/N).” He says warmly, and the way he says your name is so fond. Like you’re his oldest, most valued friend. It startles you- you don’t think you’ve ever had the syllables of your name pronounced with such care, like they are a precious gift. “You are the first human to ever welcome me into your home. All my friends eventually found people to take them, and I’m the last one to remain. I’ve never gotten to fulfil my duty, not even once.”

“Why not?” You croak out. Why was there a random little christmas ornament in Seokjin’s store that held this kind of power? Why did it end up with you? Who was this mysterious man in your house, gazing at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him?

“Well, it’s probably not hard to tell.” He admits, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck and then adjusting the santa’s hat atop his head. “Not many people want a Christmas-themed Scarecrow for a decoration. At least not around here.” He sighs. But then he turns to you and his gaze is bright. It’s a little blinding, his mega-watt smile, and it’s certainly overwhelming to have the full force of it directed at you. “But you gave me a chance! You took me home!”

“So... you spread Christmas cheer for me? What does that even mean? What happens when you finish?” You say, leaning back just a little to give yourself room to breath. His scent fills your nostrils and it’s overwhelming. A pleasant mix of christmas scents- gingerbread, cinammon, peppermint. It sits thick in the back of your throat like the pleasant burn of a hot, sweet drink.

He looks surprised at the line of questioning and a frown replaces the warm, glowing look he’d borne just moments earlier.

“Well, I’m not sure. I suppose when I finish then you put me away for a year or you pass me on to someone else.” He admits. “This is my first time, so I’m still learning the ropes.” He’s a little sheepish as he admits it. But then his gaze lights up again and he pulls himself up onto the couch so that he can sit shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “But spreading Christmas cheer is just helping you enjoy the season! You haven’t had a great experience with Christmas, right? I can help!”

You stiffen as you recall earlier that day; you had essentially aired all your dirty laundry to what you’d thought was an inanimate object. Taehyung now knew more about you than even some of your closest friends did. You’d unintentionally opened up and made yourself vulnerable to some guy you hardly knew. The thought has you recoiling. You’re not against the idea of opening up- certainly when people ask the right questions, you’ll answer honestly. But people rarely ask and you’ve never volunteered. No one has has access to every dirty detail like Taehyung now does.

And for some reason that thought has you terrified.

“I’m... I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Taehyung.” You volunteer quietly. Taehyung stiffens at the tone of your voice. “You seem like a nice enough guy. Or spirit. Or scarecrow. Whatever you are. And I hope that one day you’ll find someone you can give lots of Christmas cheer to. But I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want any of it- the “Christmas cheer” or the festivities, or anything. I’m just...” you inhale deeply. “I’m just trying to make the most of what I have.”

You get to your feet, your back facing him.

“You can stay the night, but I’ll take you back to Jin in the morning. I’ll see if I can convince any of my friends to take you, if you like.”

A slight tug on the sleeve of your jumper stops you from leaving. You glance down at your wrist. Taehyung has just the tip of your sleeve, pinched between his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to stop you from leaving. The slightest tug would liberate you from his grasp and you’d be free to go back to your room.

“No one else will.” He admits quietly. There’s a sort of heart-aching tone to his voice that makes that tiny grip feel like he’s handcuffed to you. “I waited for five years in that store. I’d sit in a box for eleven months of the year, and hope that this year would be the one someone chose me and every day of December that passed I’d watch people walk right past me. And before that, I was passed around from store to store. People would keep me in the store until they realised I’d never sell and then they’d palm me off to someone else. They didn’t even have the guts to get rid of me. And I’d watch as the objects around me got chosen. They got sent to good homes. But never me. I have waited twenty five christmases for someone to let me in. You’re the first.” He quietly admits. He hasn’t changed or adjusted his grip on your sleeve. Just that tenuous, fragile grip, that little bit of hope that can be snapped at any moment keeps you in place. “Please.” He breathes.

You stare at his fingers, at the tacky cuffs of his sleeve, at his hopeful, pleading expression.

You don’t have to do this. He’s asking you, but he won’t force you. You can say no and have the bleary, lonely Christmas you’d originally planned. You can keep pushing everyone away and forever allow Christmastime to be a holiday of heartbreak for you.

Or you could let this random Christmas Scarecrow and his sparkly, bright eyes into your home.

“Ok.” You finally say. “My work hasn’t shut down yet so I’m gonna be super busy for the next few weeks. But in between you can give it a go.”

The answering smile he gives you in turn has your heart fluttering in anticipation.

Maybe Christmas won’t be so bad this year.

Although you had had every intention of welcoming Taehyung into your home and applying yourself to the festivities as best you could, your workplace dials everything up to eleven over the next few days, just as predicted. Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t whine or complain. He spends most of the day while you are at work in his scarecrow-form or binging netflix on your account and he spends his evenings stretched on the couch, or beaming at you over dinner. It’s kind of like having a loyal golden retriever to come home to, but maybe with better manners.

It’s actually kind of pleasant. You occasionally catch him humming Christmas tunes and he keeps leaving his Santa hat in strange places but otherwise he’s a rather nonintrusive roommate. He even makes you dinner on occasion and he’s not a terrible cook.

It’s only as the weekend approaches and you’re contemplating how to spend it that it occurs to you that Taehyung hasn’t left the house once. It’s not like he can just wonder down the street in his scarecrow outfit- it’s not exactly designed to withstand subzero temperature. And you’ve been so slammed at work that it never occurred to you that you’d essentially let the poor guy stay with you and then left him to the equivalent of house arrest.

“Do you do much during the week?” You ask Taehyung across dinner that night. You had quickly learned that he does need to eat and shower and sleep like every human but he can stave it off by staying in his scarecrow form, and so dinner time had just become a shared meal most evenings. He had even waited in his scarecrow form for you to get back on the days you had finished late that week. He pauses through a mouthful of pasta and looks up, cheeks bulging.

“Not much.” He confesses, after a noisy swallow. “I don’t really have anywhere to go.” He reminds you.

Guilt churns in your stomach and sours your dinner. You had promised him you’d give him a chance, and yet here you were a week later, making him fend for himself in an unfamiliar and empty apartment with nothing to do but watch netflix and raid your pathetic excuse of a pantry.

“Right.” You sigh, thoroughly chastened. “I... forgot. I’m sorry- work just hit me really hard.”

“It’s fine.” Taehyung dismisses. “It’s my job to entertain you, not the other way round!”

You stir awkwardly at your food, still unable to dispel the guilt.

“Even so... we could go somewhere tomorrow, if you want? I have the weekend off.” You offer as nonchalantly as you can. “If you’re here for the rest of the month, you’ll need clothes. And proper bedding. We can pick that stuff up and then do some other things.”

He positively beams at your offer and it’s jarring. You aren’t used to such joy at such simple things. It’s so easy to win a smile from him, but rather than make his smiles seem meaningless, it just seems to make them brighter. You’re not used to earning such easy affection for so little and it leaves you unsure what to do with yourself.

“Really?” He questions eagerly. “The whole day?”

You duck your head slightly to disguise your fluster. You’re not even sure why your heart seems to race at his smile. Perhaps because you’ve never seen such a beautiful person smile quite like that.

“The whole day.” You reassure him. “I can make up for this week- I really didn’t mean to ignore you like this.”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“Don’t be silly!” He scolds you. “You told me that work would be busy. It just means we have to make your weekend even more enjoyable to make up for a missed week.”

He gets abruptly to his feet, wiping pasta sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I have so much to plan! Can I borrow your laptop? I have to plan our day!” He asks. A little startled, you merely nod at him in bewilderment and he grins determinedly to himself. “Ok! My first day on the job. Here I go.”

He storms off and then performs a quick u-turn.

“After I clean up my dishes.” He recalls sheepishly.

The next morning you shuffle into your kitchen a bit bleary-eyed and still in your pyjamas. Taehyung never seems to be tired or grumpy no matter what time of day it is, and so it’s not surprise that he’s up and humming to himself as he cooks breakfast for the two of you.

He hears you shuffle in the kitchen and glances over his shoulder to smile at you and it catches you off-guard for some reason. You’ve gotten used to him cooking meals, to his singing, even to just his general presence, but you can’t seem to get used to the way he seems to just smile so easily. Something about the way the wintery sun streams in through the windows and catches the tips of his hair and gilding the sharp edges of his handsome face is just ethereal. You can believe he’s not a human in that moment- he’s too gorgeous to be one.

“You’re up!” He cheers. You shake your head to try and rid yourself of your strange thoughts and shuffle forward to scrutinise the breakfast he’s preparing.

“I’m making a Christmas classic.” He informs you when he notices you attempting to peer over his shoulders. “At least, according to her.” He gestures to your ipad on the counter, where he has one of those food blogs run by stay-at-home mums that write essays on their blogs instead of the actual recipes. This one seems to have a picture of tacky santas made from pancakes and whipped cream.

Looking at Taehyung’s progress so far, it actually looks fairly similar to the picture, but that’s not saying that much considering the quality of the picture.

“Isn’t that like cannabalism for you? Isn’t eating Santa basically eating your coworker?” You point out. Taehyung laughs, a full-bodied laugh that makes his eyes curl up into little crescent moons.

“He’s actually my boss more than my coworker. But he loves Santa-themed decorations. He says it makes him feel jolly.” He tells you.

There’s a lot to unpack there and so you choose to ignore it by occupying yourself with the cleanup.

“So I was thinking that we can get some clothes for you today and maybe some other necessities if you’re going to be staying here all month.” You inform him. Taehyung nods distractedly, gently nudging one of the santa pancakes onto a plate. He reaches for a bowl of blueberries, arranging them into eyes and then spraying whipped cream in the shape of a beard. It kind of seems like he’s not very interested in your schedule for the day.

“Tadaa!” He exclaims, showing off his creation. He then reaches for a blueberry and pops it in his mouth. “They’re not bad for frozen fruits.”

“Looks great.” You praise him. “But the plan for today-“

“(Y/N).” Taehyung cuts you off. He looks a little stern, but there’s still a warmth to his expression that softens the harsh edges. “I told you I’d plan today. It’s my job to make your Christmas season enjoyable. I’m not here for you to babysit- got it?”

Chastened and surprised, you nod meekly. He grins.

“Good. Now open up.” He says, brandishing a blueberry menacingly between his fingertips at you. Your eyes widen.

“But Tae-“ you protest, and he’s shoved the blueberry into your mouth before you can finish your counterargument. This time, when he smiles, it’s a little smug.

“No “buts”.” He sighs. “Just sit down and enjoy breakfast and trust me. We can pick up some

clothes since the Christmas overalls are a bit weird, but after that, then I take over. Ok?” He demands, and you chew through the blueberry, a little disconcerted.

“Ok.” You finally agree reluctantly.

Breakfast is a peaceful affair, with the two of you enjoying the pancakes. Cleaning up with Taehyung is almost domestic- there’s something pleasant about having him stand shoulder to shoulder with you, drying the dishes as you wash them.

Outside is a frigid affair- it hasn’t quite hit the point where it’s snowing outside, but temperatures are definitely creeping lower and lower and Taehyung nearly glows blue in the short sprint to your car. You fix it by blasting the heater the second the two of you are safely secured in the vehicle.

“So, if you’re planning the agenda for today, what are we doing after we grab you some clothes?” You ask conversationally. Taehyung pauses from where he’s flicking through your phone, scrutinising your spotify playlist like he’s studying it for an exam. He looks up, his eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

“Well, I called in a favour from an old friend and booked us a free Christmas bauble painting workshop.” He announces, looking pleased with him. You squint at him and grimace just a little.

“I don’t know if you know this, Taehyung, but I am terrible at drawing. I’m so bad that in highschool all these kids signed a petition to ban me from it.” You say, completely serious. He stares at you, bewildered for a moment.

“Surely it can’t be that bad?” He wonders aloud. You just shake your head grimly at him.

One shopping trip later, Taehyung discovers that it is, in fact, that bad.

“What did Rudolph ever do to deserve this?” He questions in abject horror. You feel your cheeks heat as you curl your hands protectively over your glass bauble.

“It’s not that bad!” You insist. And then you hesitate. “Is it?”

Taehyung pries your fingers back to expose your masterpiece- splotchy brown paint, sparkles, and a lovely dollop of red paint in the centre.

“(Y/N).” He says seriously. “It looks like someone walks into Santa’s stable, massacred all the reindeer and then scattered glitter over the scene of the crime.”

You squint at your painting, and, depressingly enough, his description is more accurate than what it’s meant to be. It was meant to be Rudolph, smiling happily through the glass of the bauble.

“Forget it.” You snap, setting the glass bauble down and moving to get up. “This is stupid, anyway- we still have to pick up a mattress protector for your bed.”

“Wait!” He laughs, grabbing at your sleeve before you can make a hasty retreat. A firm tug from his has you landing back in your seat, face to face with the awful paint spill you call a painting. “I’m sorry! Just relax, ok? This is supposed to be fun.”

“I’m not having fun.” You sniff. “I told you I wasn’t good at painting and now you’re laughing at me.”

Taehyung winces.

“Well... it’s not totally unsalvageable.” He finally compromises. He picks up the bauble, examining it for a moment. And then he picks up the paintbrush, and with quick, precise strokes of his paintbrush, he morphs the brown splotch formally known as Rudolph into a sort of sleigh-shape, and the red-splotch is rounded into the curve of Santa’s belly. “There.” He says, satisfied. You blink in wonder at the new creation. It’s still a little ugly and a little streaky, but it definitely doesn’t look like someone went on a Christmas-killing spree. “How’s that? Now you just have to decorate the sleigh an add sparkles. Surely you can’t mess that up.”

“You underestimate me.” You deadpan at him, and to your surprise, he snorts with laughter. A couple of the other people painting baubles glare at you, and Taehyung merely offers them a merry grin.

“There used to be an elf like you at Santa’s workshop. No matter what he did, he’s somehow always mess up painting the toys.” Taehyung recalls, shaking his head fondly. “The two of you would get along.”

It’s the second time he’s mentioned it, and this time you can’t keep your curiosity at bay.

“So... does that mean you’ve met with Santa? The Northpole and all that is a thing?” You ask. Taehyung nods.

“It sure is! It’s where all Christmas Spirits grow up. We get raised there and taught about the best ways to spread Christmas cheer and then we get sent out to spread the cheer.” He sighs warmly. “I was top of my class.”

You grimace as you picture it. Dozens of Christmas Scarecrows, sitting at tables, studying books on how to paint the perfect Christmas bauble.

“And so you just... get kicked out after a certain age? They raise you and send you out to sit on a shelf for eleven months of the year and then follow silly Christmas traditions for the last one?” You question him, and for a moment you’re horrified by the loneliness of such an existence. “Wouldn’t you... just get sick of Christmas? Spending your life only ever being in Christmas mode?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyung reminds you as he sprinkles glitter over his painting of a snowman. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea, but you feel like he’s slapped you. “This is my first official Christmas on the job, remember? I haven’t had a chance to get sick of it yet.”

That makes you go silent.

Taehyung seems to pick up on the way the mood has shifted. He stops detailing the buttons of his snowman painting and glances at you. Your eyes are wide and slightly misty.

He’s never felt particularly sorry for himself. Sure, the many years he’s spent gathering dust on a shelf have been lonely. He missed his friends, and all he could ever dream of was getting to sit on a mantle as he watched a family enjoy Christmas. That would be the closest he’d ever get, and that’s been his dream for so long.

But for some reason, with you looking at him like that, the ache that he’s sought so hard to push down resurfaces. It’s like a damn breaking; it’s soothing. To have someone look at him and actually be acknowledging how hard and lonely and painful what he went through was.

“I’m ok now.” He reassures you, though his voice is a little hoarse. The sheen to his eyes is a little less brilliant, and your heart aches for him as you process the twenty-five year wait that Taehyung has endured. “After all, someone welcomed me into their home, right?”

You blink- that someone is you. You’ve welcomed Taehyung into your home. Christmas is perhaps even lonelier for Taehyung than it is for you, and yet all he seems to want to do is make it enjoyable for you.

You duck your head, distracting yourself by stirring the tip of your paintbrush in the bright red paint.

“I guess so.” You finally say. You offer him a tentative smile. “I guess I have a responsibility to make this your best Christmas ever, then.” You resolve.

Taehyung is silent for such a prolonged moment that you’re forced to face him again to ensure he hasn’t died. When you do, what you find is him gaping at you like a Christmas tree just sprouted from between your eyebrows.

“What?” You question, a little defensively. It’s hard to interpret the look on his face.

He shakes himself, coming back to his senses.

“Nothing.” He reassures you. “I just realised that you’re a bit rare to smile, is all.”

Something about the look in his eyes has you feeling flustered- your fingers tremble enough that you knock over the glitter and it spills across Taehyung’s newly bought trousers. You get up quickly, horrified, but he laughs it off.

“I think we’ve done enough damage to these baubles.” He says with a warm smile. “We still have things to buy, right?”

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Taehyung drags you from store to store, excited by the smallest things. He stares at a Christmas-themed hot chocolate for so long that you end up having to buy it for him. The look of gratefulness in his eyes is unparalleled and almost makes up for the fact that you literally have to plead with him to buy actual clothes and not just ridiculous Christmas Sweaters. In the evening, you wonder the shopping district, appreciating the lights that line the main street in brilliant arrays.

When you slump down on your couch beside Taehyung that night, showered and ready for bed, you’re exhausted to the bones. Oddly, it’s not the same kind of tiredness you feel after a long week at work or after you’ve had a long argument with your mother. Instead, it’s a satisfying fatigue- like you’ll drift off quickly and dream of christmas lights and children’s laughter.

“How did I do for my first day?” Taehyung yawns from where he is sprawled on the couch in a similar position to you.

“Good.” You say, turning your head to glance at him. The dim light of your living room softens the slope of his nose, and his dark eyes catch flashes of the light that makes it seem like his irises are tiny little galaxies. There’s something so inherently peaceful about the warmth of his presence beside yours .

“I’m glad.” He says, though his lashes flutter and you too find yourself fighting off the comforting waves of sleep. He shifts and turns his head so that his cheek rests against the couch and he gazes at you. “Hey (Y/N)?” He calls gently.

Your eyes are closed by this state.

“Hmm?” You hum, in acknowledgement of his statement. He’s quiet for a moment before he ask.

“Why did you want to spend Christmas alone?” He asks. You blink open your eyes and look back at him. His gaze is steady and unwavering. But it’s not scolding or judgemental- instead he just seems curious.

“You told me about your parent’s divorce and all their fighting on Christmas... but I heard the way you spoke to your mother on the phone too. You want to spend Christmas with her, don’t you? You just... can’t?” He asks. “You said you didn’t want the Christmas cheer... but you still took me home and decorated for Christmas. You painted the baubles and drank the hot cocoa and did the Christmas shopping... why do you pretend to hate it all?”

If it were anyone else, you would probably stop the conversation there. You have no interest in delving into your long, complex family history only to be met with looks of confusion, or worse, pity.

But somehow, in the short space of a mere week, Taehyung has become someone you feel safe opening up to. Perhaps it’s because he’s already heard your whole story already. Or maybe because of the way he genuinely just wants to see you smile despite there being no substantial gain for him other than job satisfaction. Or because he’s proven himself trustworthy in the little ways he’s slotted himself into your life, like sharing meals. Whatever the reason, you don’t clam up like you usually do.

“I don’t pretend to hate it.” You tell him softly. “I just got sick of trying to love it.”

Taehyung is silent for a long period of time. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, exhausted and sleepy. The weight of your confession hangs in the air, and the moment is strangely intimate.

Then he smiles.

“Then I’ll keep trying for you.” He promises.

The two of you don’t manage to stay awake for much longer. Eventually the long day catches up to you- you drift off first, with one of those rare but peaceful smiles on your face, and Taehyung follows suit soon after.

The week that follows is one of the worst you’ve had in a while. You’re putting in ridiculous amounts of overtime and everyone is a little on edge from sheer exhaustion and the mounting stress of deadlines.

And in that time, Taehyung is honestly a lifesaver. It’s remarkable, being able to come home from another hellish day at work to find him with dinner ready and a crappy Christmas movie set up. You spend your evenings laughing and unwinding. It’s not like you don’t have friends who will come rushing if you tell them you’ve had a bad day, but there’s something special about the way Taehyung does it. With bright smiles and easy laughs and an infectious joy that seems to chase the fatigue that plagues you away.

It’s towards the end of the week that you hit your limit. You’re not really the type to cry much. You’ve always been fiercely independent, and your upbringing meant that you were the kind of child to retire to your room and work things out for yourself when you felt the need to cry. It’s not like crying ever really achieved anything. Maybe the occasional sad scene in a movie would get you, but usually you’re the kind to feel sad internally.

But after this particular day, you’re close to tears. Your boss had yelled at you, one of the major projects you had been working on just hit a major snag, and you found out your favourite coworker was leaving.

All you can thing about as you walk in the door is spending another peaceful evening with Taehyung. You’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time to expand his taste past cheesy Christmas movies and had even made a list of films he may like during his lunch break. You swing open the door to your home, eagerly rushing in and calling out to Taehyung so that he knows you’re home.

And that’s when your phone goes off.

It’s your father, probably the last person you want to talk to right now.

Unlike your mother, who at least was trying to make up for the ways she’s screwed up in your upbringing, your father has never acknowledged his part in their divorce. It was always what your mother did wrong, how she let him down, how it was because she changed and wanted different things. He was the kind of man who always wanted a big family, and he had adored your mother at first. But her pregnancy with you had been difficult and you had, admittedly, been a sickly child. She’s never outright said the words, but you suspect postpartum depression might have played a part in her downward spiral. Either way, she had resolved to have no further children after you, something your father was heavily against.

You suppose it can’t have been easy- your father had been in love and the two of them had agreed on the kind of future they wanted together- the kind filled with children, a quiet suburban life not far from either of their parents. And for your mother to change so suddenly and drastically would have been devastating and incomprehensible to your father.

Still, you can’t help the resentment and hurt you feel towards him. Why did you have to get caught in the crossfire of his heartbreak? And then the icing on the cake was his remarriage.

His wife is a lovely woman. Coming into the marriage with three children of her own, she had treated you with the same love and kindness she expected of your father towards her children. Her children, however, were not bound to such conduct, and made it their personal mission to make your life a living hell. Perhaps they felt insecure over the fact that your father was related to you by blood and they weren’t.

Either way, it put him in a difficult position- perhaps he felt he couldn’t tell them to back off without it coming across as favouritism. But he could have done something- spoken to his wife, or chosen you before the family he married into. But he didn’t. He ignored it and turned a blind eye and to this day he continues to pretend that things are normal. Especially after the birth of your half-sibling.

“Hi.” You say, as you answer the phone. Taehyung has stepped into the entryway with you, watching curiously as you answer the phone.

“Hi sweetheart!” Your dad calls on the other side of the line. You wince at the unwelcome nickname.

“To... to what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. You can hear a loud racket in the background. Its probably your half-sister. She’s always been on the louder side, even as a baby.

“Nothing! I was just thinking it’s been a while since we last chatted. You haven’t been returning my calls.” You have no doubt the sadness in his voice is genuine, yet somehow it feels insincere.

“I’ve just been really busy at work.” You lie, rather than admit you had seen the missed calls from him and not even bothered to listen to the messages he left. “I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Right... right. No, that’s fine. I’m sure your very busy.” He rushes to reassure you. “I was just calling because your mother contacted me. She was hoping I could convince you to spend Christmas with us.”

You stiffen at the familiar topic. You had thought it had been a little too quiet on her end. Perhaps she had thought that if she couldn’t convince you to come home, maybe your father could. She’s always had this idea in her head that maybe you aren’t close to her because you prefer your father, and it’s not like she can handle having a long enough conversation with him to find out she’s wrong. It’s surprising she even managed to let him know your plans for Christmas.

“It’s fine. Like I told mum, I’d really much rather spend it here this year. Besides, I thought you all were going away for Christmas this year? We already spent Christmas together last year.” You say, pointedly trying to remind him that Christmas isn’t even a yearly thing with him. He does the contractual every-second-year with you, and then plans fun events with his family on the years he isn’t stuck babysitting.

“That’s true. But that’s why I’m calling! It took a bit of convincing, but there’s a spot on this trip with your name on it, if you want it.” He tells you. He almost sounds excited, like he’s really done something thoughtful and kind. Not just made some last-minute attempts to shoehorn you in. The invite hadn’t been there to start with, after all. It’s only as an afterthought that he’s made any attempt to add you in- a chance to pretend like things are good. Like the two of you aren’t on rocky terms the rest of the year. Like you’re close enough to go on holidays with your stepfamily.

“I think I’m fine dad.” You finally say. Taehyung is watching the expressions play across your face with mild curiosity. He probably can’t hear your father’s voice on the other line, but he can see the anger on your face, and hear the wobble to your tone. “You have fun on your trip. I’ll make do here.”

There’s a beat of silence and you hear your father sigh. You grimace- that’s his pre-scolding sigh. The sigh he gives before any lecture he thinks you’ve earned. As if he has any parental claim to scolding you.

“(Y/N),” your father begins. “It’s Christmas. Don’t be like this- you should be spending time with your family-“

“I did.” You cut him off, and you surprise yourself with the way tears fill your eyes. You squint, trying to keep them at bay. Taehyung watches with alarm as he registers the way you are on the verge of crying. “I spent every year. With you and mum. And then you and then mum and then you and then mum. I tried for so. damn. long. to do the family Christmas thing, but all it ever ended in was the two of you letting me down. Mum was too drunk or you were too busy. And yeah, maybe you guys were going through your own stuff. But don’t you dare try and tell me that Christmas is about family because if that’s what family is, I don’t want it. At least if I spend Christmas alone, neither of you can let me down.” You snarl into the phone line.

Your father is silent after your outburst. Taehyung watches you, waiting for your response.

And the tears finally spill forth, rolling down your cheeks.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, then I won’t stop you.” Your father finally says. He sounds hurt, as if you’re the one who’s hurt him. “I guess we’ll see you in the new year. Your sister’s birthday is coming up and Rachel wants to have a big party since she’s ten this year.”

“I’ll see you then.” You say, your throat raspy and your voice small.

You’ve barely hung up the call before two strong arms have wrapped around your figure. You go stiff in Taehyung’s arms. This is probably the first time he’s hugged you, and it isn’t unpleasant. Instead, the scent of gingerbread and peppermint fills your nose and it’s strangely soothing. You shift and turn your head just slightly so that your face is buried into the soft cream of his jumper, one of the fresh purchases from the other day.

“You can cry if you like.” He tells you, and you feel the words rumble from deep in his chest. “I won’t look.” He promises. “That was painful for me to hear, and it’s not even my dad- if you want to cry, then cry.” His voice cracks on the end of his sentence, and you abruptly realise that Taehyung is crying. He’s known you for just a short couple of weeks, and the only nice thing you’ve done for him is not drop a tacky Christmas Scarecrow back into a box of junk, and yet he’s crying just from hearing your half of a painful phone call.

Perhaps it’s the permission you need. For all of the long, lonely years you were stuck in the middle of feuding exes, you never gave yourself permission to cry. Instead, you’d retire to your room, pressing a pillow to your ears to drown out the sounds of screaming.

For a long time, you just stand there, sobbing into Taehyung’s arms. He runs his hands soothingly over the back of your hair, and eventually the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulls you into a sense of peace.

Taehyung is quick to act from there- before long, you are forcefully seated on your couch with a mug of hot chocolate and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Taehyung crouches before you, swiping at the tear trails on your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks cautiously. You grimace and shake your head.

“It’s just the same old stuff.” You reassure him. “Long day at work; daddy issues; the usual standard.”

Taehyung smiles and settles himself beside you on the couch, tugging the blanket from your hands so that he can curl under it.

“Good thing your personal Christmas Spirit is here to save the season.” He whispers conspiratorially. He leans forward towards the coffee table and grabs your iPad, before pulling it into the safe cocoon of your blanket. “I’ve been researching all day! Tomorrow’s your day off, so it’s week 2 of spreading Christmas cheer.” He announces, unlocking the iPad and scrolling through the internet page he has open.

You nearly choke on your hot chocolate.

“Taehyung,” you rasp. Your oesophagus is probably blistering as you speak. “That’s a page for date ideas. This stuff is all for couples.”

“We are a couple.” Taehyung answers, confused. He points to himself and then to you. “A couple of people.” And then he grins at you and you realise he was teasing.

You snort and can’t hold back your laugh. Taehyung’s smile softens and he leans into your personal space.

“There it is.” He remarks. Wonder fills his tone. “That lovely smile.” He taps the tip of your nose fondly.

The smile slips off your face at his words. Lovely? Your smile? He thinks your smile is lovely?

A weird, electric feeling fills you at the thought, and you lean away from him quickly before your stupid heart can get any funny ideas. He didn’t mean anything by that compliment. He’s a Christmas Spirit- it’s literally his job to make you smile. You won’t overthink it and ruin this strange but precious arrangement you have going on.

Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look hurt or uncomfortable at the way you’d blatantly pulled away from him. Instead, his smile widens.

“Good idea. You gotta rest up those smiling muscles for tomorrow or you’ll get a cramp.” He tells you. He then gets up and and stretches, letting out a tremendous yawn. He glances over his shoulder at you with a wink. “Prepare yourself for the best day ever.”

Said “best day ever” begins with you staring listlessly up at your ceiling. Taehyung had talked big the night before, promising you a day of fun and enjoyment.

But you just can’t picture it. You’ve spoken to coworkers and friends before, about the excitement of Christmas. How they see lights or hear carols or even smelling gingerbread triggers this warm, nostalgic and joyful feeling deep in their hearts. But you’ve always felt nothing. Christmas has always been just another day, to you.

With a sigh, you roll out of bed.

Out in your living room, Taehyung is fidgeting with your smart tv, trying to get it to play what looks like Mariah Carey’s rendition of “All I want for Christmas is you”. He’s mumbling to himself, and his santa’s hat droops lower and lower on his head. The little white pompom at the end brushes his nose, and the bright red strands of hair that peak out from beneath the cap stick out in every direction.

Apart from the santa’s hat, he’s dressed remarkably stylishly. That had been a big surprise on your little outing the week before- his impeccable fashion taste. Today he’s wearing a soft, fuzzy red cardigan over a large white t-shirt and tan trousers.

“The volume’s off.” You inform him. He starts, glancing at you in surprise, before confirming that he has accidentally managed to turn the volume all the way down. “You operate technology like a grandpa.”

Taehyung grins as you take the remote from him, adjusting the volume and selecting the song so that the familiar opening begins to chime through your speakers.

“You say that like I didn’t catch you yelling at your printer two nights ago.” He chuckles. “Are you ready for our ultimate Christmas adventure?”

He must catch the way your guard goes up, because his smile softens from something amused into something more gentle and comforting.

“Nervous?” He asks. You hesitate, just a moment, before offering a terse nod.

“Sorry.” You finally settle on. “I just... I’ve tried the “christmas cheer” thing. And it didn’t work Tae. I just feel like... Christmas is just another day.”

“That’s because it is just another day.” He reminds you. “But if you give it a chance, it can be more.”

You bite your lip hesitantly, and he shakes his head.

“What if you didn’t think about it like Christmas?” He asks. “How about, today is a day for me to cheer you up after a long week. We’re gonna do fun things and enjoy ourself because we want to. Does that sound doable?”

It does. It’s strangely reassuring and low pressure, and something about his words and the patient, warm light to his eyes puts you at ease. You don’t know why you feel so much pressure about enjoying Christmas but maybe it’s because you don’t want to let Taehyung down. He has so much riding on this Christmas and you don’t want to be the person who ruins Christmas for him. Who makes its a tedious, miserable event like your parents did for you.

And maybe a small part of you wants to enjoy the season for you. To claim back the years lost to misery and fighting and to share in the merriment that everyone else holds.

“Ok.” You finally agree. “Lead the way.”

Taehyung beams in response.

First on the agenda seems to be in the park in the centre of your city. Not every year in this place has a white Christmas- some Christmases are just cold and muddy, with a thin layer of ice over dirty pavements. This particular Christmas has been quite frosty, and quite early on- the first snowfall had been earlier that week and now a thick layer of snow coats the ground and clings to thick winter coats.

“Tadaa!” Taehyung proclaims, waving a hand out towards your first activity of the day. An open carriage, decked out in sleigh bells, and two gorgeous white horses, standing tall and sleek in their crystalline surroundings.

You creep closer, and their handler spots you. He’s a cheerful man in a formal suit, offset by the bright red santa hat atop his head. He matches Taehyung, who seems reluctant to part with his beloved accessory no matter the time of day.

“You must be (Y/N),” the old man cheers, crowding closer. His horses snort and stamp their feet at his excitement, but he pays them no mind, instead skittering forward to greet you. “Taehyung has told me all about you! Come, get yourself seated and we’ll begin the tour.”

You glance at Taehyung, who merely shoos you encouragingly towards the carriage.

“How did you afford this?” You hiss at him. He shrugs and smiles.

“Christmas spirits have connections.” He whispers, before placing a hand on either side of your waist. You smother a yelp as you feel him practically lift you up the first step, and it doesn’t take you much encouragement to scramble onto your seat from there. It’s a vain attempt to distract yourself from the feeling of his large hands encircling your waist.

“All seated?” Your guide questions. Taehyung nods as he scoots in close to you and that’s really all the warning you get before the carriage lurches forward.

You steady yourself with a yelp, and an arm around you from Taehyung keeps you upright. You glance at him in surprise and are momentarily caught off-guard by his profile. A thin, delicate smattering of snowflakes has been caught on the breeze and they catch on his hair and lashes. The tip of his nose has gone endearingly red in the cold.

He turns his gaze when he feels your stare and he grins.

“Enjoying the sights?” He wonders innocently. You grimace and look away. He merely laughs. “Let me explain to you the logic behind our first activity of the day. First of all, it came as a package with the activity my friend got me for free. Secondly, I thought that it might help you see how little perspective can make the things you see every day so much more special.” He finishes his explanation by pointing an arm across you to gesture at the scenery of the park. He’s right; you’ve seen this scenery hundreds of times, across all seasons, but there’s something special about it in the moment. The warmth of families, covered in thick, puffy jackets, the flutter of chilly snowflakes against your skin, the sheen of frost over the pond on the far end of the park. It’s all familiar and yet in that moment, surrounded by the glimmering sound of sleigh-bells and the stead thud of horse shoes against the pavement, the park you’ve known since moving to this city is different, magical.

The carriage pulls to a stop beside a crowded pavillion. On the other side, you can glimpse people taking advantage of the outdoor figure skating rink thats set up in the park over winter.

“Is this our second stop?” You ask Taehyung, as he helps you alight from the carriage. Oddly, though he grasps your hand as he helps you down, he doesn’t release it once you’re on solid ground. Instead, he keeps his fingers wrapped around yours as he waves farewell to the carriage driver.

“You guessed it!” He congratulates you. “Stop number two; appreciating the fun of winter! Nothing screams winter wonderland like a figure skating rink.”

“Can you skate?” You ask him as he leads you to the skate rental counter.

“No?” He asks. “But how hard can it be, right? It looked really easy on all the videos I watched in preparation.”

A short while later, you get to bear witness to Taehyung learning just how hard figure skating can be.

“It’s just like walking.” You attempt to soothe him, all the while wincing at the vice-like grip he has on your hands. “Just keep standing upright.”

“Have I always been this tall?” Taehyung breathes. He’s gone deathly pale, and you don’t think the cold is the reason behind it. “Why is the ground so far away?”

“You can do it.” You urge, still allowing him to cling onto your forearms like he’s about to plummet off a cliff edge and you are the only thing keeping him from certain death. “Come on, Tae.”

He shoots up straight, eyes widening at the sudden nickname. Unfortunately, it’s the wrong move, because he topples forward, and the only thing keeping him from lying face-down on the ice is you. You’re toppling backwards before you can stop yourself.

Taehyung yelps and you brace yourself for your head to impact against the hard ice, but it never comes. Instead your head lands in the firm cushion of Taehyung’s palm. Somehow, in the chaos of slipping, he’s landed on top of you but managed to stop you from banging your head.

You blink open your eyes and for a moment, your senses are overwhelmed with the scent of peppermint and the warm brown of his eyes. He looks just as startled as you are. You feel your face heat and his breath puffs warm against your cheeks, contrasting the chill of the air.

“Maybe figure skating isn’t for me.” He volunteers sheepishly.

You can’t help but offer a crooked smile. He’s so silly but it’s strangely endearing. He looks surprised at your smile, and it seems that’s the moment he abruptly realises the position you’re in. Quickly, he scrambles off you and helps you into a sitting position.

“Sorry.” He says glumly. “I thought it would be fun, but clearly I overestimated myself.”

You get to your feet and offer a hand to help him get up. He looks nervously at your outstretched hand.

“It is fun.” You reassure him. “And it can still be fun. Just hold on to me, and trust me ok?”

Something in his gaze softens and he accepts your outstretched hand. It takes a bit, but with an arm around his chest, you manage to stabilise him between yourself and the wall of the ice-skating rink.

He peeks up at you through his bright red fringe. His santa’s hat sits lopsided on his head. The smile he gives you this time is different from all the other ones. It’s not as ecstatic or joy-filled. This one is more reserved, almost shy; you feel a bit like you’ve been punched in the chest for some reason when you see it.

You stretch out your hands again, your hands flat and palms extended skywards, and he place one hand into each of your palms. Even through your thick gloves, your skin feels oddly warm when he holds you.

Gently, you take slow, gliding steps backwards, while he follows with much smaller, much more jilted steps.

“It’s just like walking, but smoother.” You explain, and the words are forced through a tight throat. Perhaps the cold is getting to you- that’s the only explanation you can think of for why you suddenly feel so short of breath.

Taehyung nods, focussing hard on the ice. He gives a big exhale that releases in a huge, cloudy breath, and presses one foot forward. And then the other. It’s not long before he’s gliding along before you.

“That’s it!” You cheer. “I’m going to let go of one hand now, ok? I can’t keep skating backwards or I’ll crash into someone.”

Taehyung looks a bit fearful, but then he nods with determination lighting his eyes. Slowly, you release one hand and spin so that you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with him. He still maintains a death grip on the hand that’s still grasping his, but he manages to stay upright and not go tipping forward.

“Ok, here we go.” You say, and you take one step forward, followed by a second, and then a third and before you know it, you and Taehyung are drifting across the ice, albeit slowly and with lots of breaks to allow Taehyung to steady himself on the wall.

It’s actually quite fun, and relaxing, gliding across the ice like this. Music crackles through the speakers, and the people around you are all enjoying themselves. Surrounded by the bright flurry of December snow, it’s easy to smile and let loose and enjoy the season.

Eventually, the cold does manage to catch up with you, but Taehyung’s quick to press on to the next scheduled activity before you can feel too sad that the ice skating is over.

He crowds you off the ice, eagerly urging you forward with a hand planted on either shoulder.

“Hurry! We’re going to be late!!” He informs you. You deliberately slow down at that and he gets so huffy and impatient at your silliness that you find yourself laughing.

After warming yourselves up with a hot chocolate and some lunch in the warmth of a well-heated cafe, it’s starting to get a bit dark by the time Taehyung leads you to your final activity. He refuses to say what it is- instead he leads you in an increasingly convoluted route on public transport. He gets more and more amused the more unfamiliar with your destination you become, and by the time you step off the bus on the snowy outskirts of the city, you’re starting to think the whole Christmas Spirit thing was an act designed to murder you in a forest somewhere.

Particularly when he claps a hand over each eye, obscuring your vision.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. “If this is how you’re going to murder me, can’t you at least let me see the knife coming?”

“I’m not going to murder you.” He scoffs, though with gentle pressure, he leads you forward, his chest pressed protectively to your back. “I just want to surprise you.”

“I’m very easily surprised.” You remind him. “I don’t need to be blind in a forest to be surprised. Just give me a box of chocolates after a long day of work or something.”

“Hush.” He shushes you. “Just walk, and trust me.”

You take a deep, inhaling breath and your lungs fill with what has become the calming, warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon. It’s Taehyung, you remind yourself. He’s had plenty of opportunity to hurt you or scam you or even kill you but instead all he’s done is wait eagerly for you to return home and watch tacky Christmas movies with you.

“Ok.” He says, against your ear, and you shiver at the heat of his mouth tickling the cold tips of your ears. “Are you ready?”

Words fail you for some mysterious reason, so you settle for nodding mutely.

Taehyung drops his hands from your eyes and it takes you a few blinks to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light.

What lies before you is a long, brightly lit pathway. Market stalls line the paths, with vendors brandishing their wares. Fairly lights string across the stalls, in various tones ranging from warm-toned white lights to festive blues, greens, reds. Overhead, brilliant archways decorated with marvellous, intricate arrays of Christmas lights mark the path.

“What... what is this, Tae?” You breathe. Your chest hurts a little and this time you’re willing to admit that it has nothing to do with the cold.

“This is the Annual Christmas Markets.” He announces proudly. “Brought to you by your local council and sponsored by Subway (sandwiches not included).”

You take hesitant, wondering steps forward. You don’t really have any words for the strange, ballooning feeling in your chest. Like your heart is so full it’s about to burst. You feel on the verge of tears yet at the same time you feel free and light and happy.

“It’s so... pretty.” You say. Taehyung beams and steps in close so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Pretty magical, huh?” He asks you. “I found it on google! Did you know the city throws this event every year?”

You shake your head wonderingly.

“I had no idea.” You admit. He tilts his head towards the festivities.

“Then let’s explore!” He cries, tugging you forward with a hand wrapped around yours.

There’s lots to do around the markets. There’s christmas light sculptures scattered around, like a scavenger hunt of sorts. Taehyung’s favourite is the one of a santa formed from wires twisted together, skiing across the snow on a sleigh, two reindeers are standing tall. Your favourite is probably a tunnel of lights, tightly woven together to create an archway as people weave through it- you like the way it turns Taehyung’s bright red hair into brilliant licks of flames, and how his eyes look like they hold the entire night sky within their depths.

There’s a mulled wine stall, although Taehyung pulls a face at the taste and you have to buy him a hot chocolate to get him to forgive you.

“I just don’t understand how anyone can dislike Christmas carols!” Taehyung protests across his hot chocolate as the night progresses. You’re nearing the edge of the market stalls, which open up onto a big open space, paved with asphalt and with the snow scraped off it where various families and groups of people are starting to gather. Most of them are in parked vehicles, all facing towards a central stage that hasn’t been lit up yet.

“If you talk to anyone who works in retail, they just get repetitive after a while.” You explain. “I mean, “Last Christmas” is a good song in theory, but not after the six repeats that played before your lunch break.”

Taehyung “tsk”’s and shakes his head.

“I think you just have the wrong associations with the songs.” He sighs. “If you associate it with work and bad things, of course you won’t like it! You have to make positive memories and think of those when you hear the songs.”

The stage lights up ahead of you and a small band starts to take the stage. You gaze at the performers as they prepare.

“Any suggestions?” You ask softly. You surprise yourself, and when you look at Taehyung, he looks a little stunned to. “To make positive memories. What should I think of instead, when I hear those songs?”

He searches your gaze for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth quirks in a little half smile.

“Follow me.” He urges, leading you across the asphalt towards the stage. You have to duck between parked cars where people have makeshift little dens to enjoy the show from. He brings you to a stop where there’s a bit of a space just before the stage. A few couples have already taken advantage of what is essentially a dance floor. He spins around and pulls you in close. You stumble a little, not expecting the movement, but it seems he was expecting that. He steadies you with a hand against your waist and tugs one of your free arms up to rest on his shoulder. “When you hear this song... you can think about today.” He tells you with a smile. “And about all the fun we had!”

He begins to sway you back and forth in a slow turn. You wonder why his weird Christmas Spirit school taught him how to slow dance. Up on the stage, the singer begins to croon the opening notes of “have yourself a merry little christmas”. You tell yourself its the cold that urges you to shuffle in closer to Taehyung as he sways you from side to side. He’s so warm, and solid. Unbidden, your heart starts to beat a little faster, and when you raise your eyes to meet his, something about the warmth in those dazzling depths has you feeling light-headed.

“What do you think about when you hear them?” You ask him, changing the subject in an attempt to overcome the strange, overwhelming emotion you suddenly feel weighted with. He spins you out in a twirl, before tugging you back in.

“Hmm...” he contemplates. “I think about hot chocolates, and snowball fights, and the smell of Christmas trees. And Christmas lights and Christmas bells.” He lists, his gaze hazy as he thinks through his list. It’s a bit of a scary thought, but you could honestly stay here forever, watching Taehyung list the things he loves, being swayed gently in his arms. And then he glances down at you and there’s something so warm and fond in his expression that you feel your face heat. “And I think about your smile.”

A funny thing happens in that moment, after his confession. Your heart goes on strike for a moment- even she seems shocked at the sudden turn of events. And then suddenly the air is electric, and all your senses are just filled with Taehyung. His smell, his eyes, his hair, his warmth... his lips.

It’s a sudden revelation, like being struck by lightening. The look in his eyes seems to thread into your veins, leaving burning trails in its wake. His scent washes into the very bottom of your lungs. You like him. In a very short amount of time, he’s wiggled past all your defences and now here you are, standing in his arms, and you realise you want to stay there. You want to keep seeing his smile and keep spending time with him and you don’t want this Christmas to end.

The songs draws to a close and you step away from his embrace. He seems to sense your sudden change in mood.

“Is everything ok?” He asks you and you nod, smiling in a way you hope is reassuring.

“Yeah. I just noticed how cold it’s getting, is all. Shall we head back home?” You ask. Taehyung blinks and glances around as if he’s just now realising how cold it is. He shivers and steps in close to you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He admits. “Let’s head home.” He wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps to try and warm you up. “Did you have fun, though?” He asks eagerly.

“Yeah.” You say, and this time the smile isn’t forced. “Yeah, I did.”

A week later, you’re stressed and bustling around the kitchen like a madwoman.

“Is it golden brown yet or is it just the oven light?” Taehyung wonders, attempting to peer into your oven without opening the door. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just check now?”

Your realisation of your feelings hadn’t changed too much around the apartment. As work for the year finally drew to a close this week, you hadn’t really had a chance to overthink it, and then you’d been busy planning a pre-Christmas dinner upon learning that Taehyung has always wanted to try a family Christmas dinner. You’d insisted upon throwing one despite his protests that he was the Christmas Spirit, not you. Finally, he had relented, and you were keen to return all the memories he had given you tenfold.

Only a couple of your friends had still been without plans, this late into December. Jin always manages to make time where food is involved, and Dahyun had had to cancel flights back home for the year. She’s also dragging along an old friend of hers, Jungkook, and then Nayeon had invited Namjoon and Jihyo. They’re all good friends of yours, but there’s something about organising a home-cooked Christmas meal that is just inherently stressful.

“The recipe says another ten minutes.” You remind Taehyung in between your attempts to both whip the cream for dessert and finish placing all the appetisers into sufficiently aesthetic containers.

Taehyung frowns, and straightens. He watches you dance around in a frazzled manner for a few minutes, before catching you by the shoulders.

“Hey.” He scolds. “I know I said I wanted a Christmas dinner, but not at the expense of your sanity. I don’t appreciate you undoing all my hard work of making you enjoy Christmas.”

You stiffen at the warmth of his palms against your shoulders before taking a deep breath.

“You’re right.” You finally say. “I’m sorry. I just... I want you to have a good time. I’ve had so much fun these past few weeks and I want you to feel what I feel. I never thought I could ever look forward to something like Christmas, and yet here I am, throwing an entire Christmas dinner.”

“Seeing you enjoy Christmas and smiling like this makes me feel happier than you can imagine, (Y/N),” Taehyung reassures you. “This dinner is just a bonus. I’m grateful for it, but what would make me feel the best is if you’re having a good time.”

There he goes again. He’s remarkably smooth for a strange mystical being that was raised in the North Pole. He’s just so good at making your stomach feel like it’s filled with butterflies and making your heart forget to beat. With a deep, resigned sigh, you nod to him.

“Ok. I’ll chill out.” You promise, before returning to your preparations in a far more mellow manner.

Guests start trickling in. Jin just barely manages to avoid a throttling when you see him, after his stunt where he didn’t show up when there was an intruder in your home. It all worked out fine, but it’s always offensive to learn that your friend would leave you to die because he had “an oven emergency”. Jungkook and Dahyun come in bickering over the intricacies over some meme they’d seen, and Jihyo drags in far too much alcohol for the night.

The night settles into a comfortable sort of atmosphere- people scatter across the living space of your apartment, catching up and just generally enjoying the vibe. Taehyung gets a few probing questions into the nature of your relationship and Jin seems to develop some sort of facial tic with all the eyebrow wagging he’s doing, but otherwise things go smoothly.

At least until it becomes apparent that Jin had taken the liberty of doing some decorating of his own while you were setting up for dinner.

Namjoon and Jihyo are the first of the victims to the numerous mistletoes Jin has concealed around your home. Luckily, they are dating and so it’s just a quick peck between them to the sounds of laughter and hooting.

At least until the other attendees realise that if Jin has hidden multiple mistletoes around your home, at any moment they could fall victim to a dreaded mistletoe kiss, with a completely undesired partner.

From there, things devolve into a terrified, suspicious sort of scavenger hunt. Jin thinks it’s hilarious, watching you all scour the place like sniffer dogs, comfortably reclined on the couch as he shouts out hints that could be true or could be total lies. It’s always hard to tell with him.

Of course Taehyung, poor, sweet naive Taehyung, had missed the dramatic revelation of Jin’s prank. He had been in the kitchen, dutifully monitoring dessert as it slowly cooked in the oven, and he had only stepped out to check with you when you thought it would be done.

You feel him tap your shoulder in the middle of combing through your mantle, making sure Jin hadn’t hidden anything amidst the photo frames and decorations that sat there. You jump, surprised, and turn to face him.

Only for Jin’s screeching laughter to reach you.

“Victims number 2!” He calls triumphantly. Taehyung looks confused, and you grimace as you finally spot the offending object. A small bit of mistletoe twisted in amongst the tinsel lining your ceiling. You’re not even sure how the madman actually got it there without anyone noticing.

“Mistletoe!” Dahyun chants, from where she’d been pressed into a corner and snarling at anyone who dared walk close enough to her lest she too fall victim to the mistletoe. “Mistletoe. Mistletoe. Mistletoe.” Slowly everyone joins the chant until your apartment sounds a bit like a cult.

“Let’s not be hasty!” You plead. “Think about it. If you let me off, then we can all ignore this silly tradition.”

Taehyung, interestingly, has gone very still upon realising the two of you stand beneath a mistletoe.

“(Y/N).” he calls, audible only to you beneath the chanting. “We can’t leave. It’s a mistletoe- I have to.”

You squint at him.

“What do you mean? It’s just a silly tradition, why would you have to-“ you begin, before trailing away as it occurs to your that Taehyung is actually not a human. This isn’t two friends caught beneath a mistletoe and talking their way out of a silly tradition. Taehyung is a Christmas Spirit and thus bound to different rules to you. “Oh.” You breathe. “So I have to... do that?”

With a deep blush that nearly rivals the brilliant red of his hair, Taehyung nods. You wince and let your gaze drop. His mouth is a soft pink- one of the first things you’d bought on that first shopping trip had been lip balm after he’d seen you applying your own. He applies it meticulously and his lips are always faintly glossy and soft looking. This close you can count the tiny moles that sit against his skin like little stars, and you feel a little bit like your heart is in danger when you finally draw your gaze back up to meet his.

His expression is a little hard to interpret, but you don’t let yourself overthink it. You slide your palms up around the back of his neck and tug his mouth down to press against yours.

Taehyung makes a little surprised noise when you do, and it makes you blush. The smell of peppermint and cinammon is strong but captivating, and you wish you could stay there. You wish you could keep kissing him, but you know it’s wrong.

With a sigh, you pull back. Taehyung’s eyes are round and mystified and the blush sits high on his cheeks. His tongue darts out to swipe his lips and he clears his throat awkwardly.

“I...” his gaze flickers down and then he averts his gaze quickly. Around you, your friends let out a few wolf whistles before returning to the panicked search for any other offending items. Taehyung’s breathing seems a little faster and you can’t say you’re in much better state. “I just came out to ask you about the dessert.” He finally manages, though his voice comes out a little raspy. You nod, hoping he doesn’t think much of the way you mirror his fierce blush.

“Right...” you say awkwardly. “I’ll just... go and check on it.”

You dart around him, heading straight for the kitchen.

When you are there, you take advantage of the lack of other party guests and bury your face in your hands. It was just a mistletoe kiss, it didn’t mean anything and yet your traitorous heart is rioting in your chest, threatening to go on strike. Your mind can’t help replaying the moment- his lips on yours, his familiar, striking scent, the scratch of his ugly Christmas jumper beneath your fingers. The size of this stupid crush is embarrassingly enormous.

It takes a few moments, but you manage to regain your composure enough to discover that the dessert is very slightly undercooked, which you know Jin will bitch and moan about, but everyone else won’t mind. It’s nothing copious amounts of ice cream or custard won’t cover up.

When you step out into your living room, it seems the panic over the mistletoes has settled. Jungkook had smothered Jin until he caved and gave up all the locations and now your living room has devolved into a ridiculous Christmas dance party- Jin and Dahyun belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas with absurd amounts of drama and gravitas, and Jihyo and Namjoon are curled up on the couch, murmuring to each other softly. Jungkook has gotten ahold of Taehyung and is currently trying to teach him ridiculous tiktok dances, and all-in-all it’s kind of a dream vibe for a Christmas party. No pain, or fighting, or tears. Just warmth and laughter, and a shared camraderie of the season.

You find yourself smiling as you finally admit to yourself that maybe Taehyung was right.

Christmas isn’t so bad after all.

After everyone goes home, you and Taehyung are left to the cleanup.

It’s a bit awkward, standing shoulder to shoulder after the kiss. His movements are slow and hesitant, like if you move too quickly he’ll get frightened and bolt. But gradually you settle into a kind of rhythm, tidying things up together and you can’t resist asking him about the party. It had been for his sake, after all.

“Did you have fun?” You ask. Taehyung jumps from where he’d been gently working the sponge into a lather and a clang rings through the kitchen. The silence seems more pressing after the loudness of your party.

“Um... it was good.” He says, though his voice is a little high and squeaky. “I had a lot of fun- your friends seem nice.”

“It’s not really a family dinner.” You admit sheepishly. He pauses and offers you a smile, and the pleasant expression on his face seems to thaw through the lingering ice in the room.

“No, don’t be silly.” He tells you. “It was everything I could have hoped for. Except for Jin’s interpretative dance to Santa baby. I feel like I could have gone without that.”

You laugh and shake your head, stepping in close to pluck plates off the drying rack and drying them off.

“This was nothing. Wait till lizzo comes on and then you’ll see peak Seokjin.” You sigh. But then your expression changes and you offer Taehyung a smile. His eyes drop for just a fraction of a second, so quick you think you’ve imagined it, before raising quickly back to your eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

He nods, and hums, still making his way through the pile of dirty dishes.

“What about you?” He asks. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You pause to think about it. The laughter of your friends, the silly Christmas carols, the snap of Christmas bonbons.... you did. You really, truly enjoyed yourself in a way you didn’t think you could and it’s thanks to the man before you. The man who patiently waited for you to come home each evening to eat dinner with you, and who dragged you across the city to places he thought you’d enjoy... he’s truly a magical person.

“I really did. It’s gotten me so excited for the rest of the year, to be honest. Are there any other Christmas traditions we can do? Christmas is almost here, but what about New Year’s? We could do something fun then too.” You suggest. Suddenly the season seems so bright and exciting, and the fact that there’s a whole week and a half left to December leaves you unbelievably excited.

Taehyung pauses from where he scrapes at a stubborn crumb on your baking tray.

“What?” He asks, and his voice goes strangely soft, and tentative. You blink- something about his tone makes you uneasy.

“For after Christmas.” You clarify. “You’ve already got Christmas planned out for us, right? So I can plan something for New Year’s. Return the favour.”

By now, Taehyung has completely stopped cleaning. He doesn’t look at you, and stares straight ahead.

“There... there isn’t an “after Christmas”, (Y/N).” He confesses. Your heart drops into your stomach. He turns to face you, and for once, his eyes aren’t bright, and filled with joy. They’re dark and miserable.

“What?” You breathe, trying to speak past the sudden shattering sensation in your chest. “Why... why not?”

“I’m a Christmas Spirit.” He reminds you. “I bring Christmas Cheer and then I go back in a box for the rest of the year.”

You blink- you feel like you aren’t hearing him right, or just not comprehending things.

“Why? I can just not put you away. Why can’t there be an “after Christmas”?” You urge. You step in close, fighting past the sudden panic in your chest. “How could I just put you back in a box for the rest of the year? That’s crazy! Just, don’t go in the box.”

“It’s not that simple.” He protests. “There are rules, (Y/N). I can’t just ignore them. My job is to make you happy during Christmas and then that’s it. That’s what I was born and raised to do. That’s what I spent 25 years waiting for.”

Your eyes widen.

“But surely there’s another way? Surely you don’t want to be in the box.” You cry. You step in close and grab his hand, pulling it towards you pleadingly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He says, and there’s a resigned note of finality to his tone. “After Christmas, that’s it. I lose the strength to turn into a human. You can keep my out of the box, but it doesn’t make a difference. It ends on Christmas night.”

That makes you fall silent as you finally learn the full truth. You’d been so busy having fun that you hadn’t thought about what comes next. You’d stupidly let yourself believe that you could just keep having fun with Taehyung. You hadn’t thought about the logistics or the long term of it. You feel like you’ve been slapped.

Christmas has an end date.

Taehyung spots the tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you do, and his expression softens at the sight.

“It’s not fair.” You rasp. Somehow, he manages to pull a smile from somewhere, though it’s tinged with a deep sadness that makes more tears spill forth. He steps in close and pulls your face into his chest.

“I know.” He soothes. “It is. It’s unfair. I want to... I want to stay. But I can’t.”

You can’t keep your composure after that, and the sobs come in in full force.

“I wanted to keep having fun with you.” You bawl, and he just shushes you with a tighter hug.

“I did too.” He confesses. “But it just means we have to have even more fun until Christmas. Can you do that for me, (Y/N)?” He breaks the hug so that he can gaze into your eyes, smoothing the tears from your cheeks. “Please.” He begs. And you see the way his own eyes are red and moist.

You want to tell him you absolutely cannot. That if he’s going to make Christmas fun and then leave you at the end, he can leave right now. Before you fall even harder. Before it’s too hard to say goodbye.

But you’re a fool. A masochistic, lovestruck, weak fool. You can’t look into his eyes and tell him no. Not when you know what this means to him; you can’t take away his first Christmas for selfish reason.

“Ok.” You finally rasp. “I’ll do it.”

You’re walking off a cliff face with your eyes wide open.

For once Taehyung’s smile isn’t enough to comfort you.

Christmas day dawns cold and subdued. The days following dinner had been warm, but quiet. Reserved. Like you both knew a goodbye was coming and didn’t want to acknowledge it. You spend one night curled up in your car at an outdoor theatre, laughing along to some silly Christmas comedy, and another day is spent going bobsledding. You both go through the motions of merriment, but it’s clear that neither of your hearts are in it. It’s hard to be enthusiastic and merry when each precious moment that passes is one step closer to when he turns back into a scarecrow.

When you step out in the kitchen, Taehyung is making breakfast already. He sees you and smiles.

“Good morning.” He calls. “Merry Christmas.”

It triggers a pang in your chest as his words confirm that this is truly your last day with him.

“Merry Christmas.” You yawn, attempting to conceal the way your heart aches by settling into a chair at your table.

Taehyung scurries over, a plate in each hand.

“Breakfast is ready.” He declares. He’s gotten quite creative in his cooking- he can now manage a fairly decent semi-scrambled omelette and his bacon is surprisingly crispy. You’re eager to see what he has prepared for Christmas Day.

When he sets it down in front of you, however, you glimpse the Santa pancakes he made that first day. Your face falls. Two familiar blueberry eyes stare dolefully up at you and even the banana smile seems less curved and cheerful. It’s clear Taehyung had been a little distracted making them, because they’re not as carefully put together as that first meal. But the sentiment behind them still stands; that Taehyung cooks for you. He likes seeing you smile and he goes to absurd lengths to get you to enjoy yourself and he has for the entire month of December. He’s come to mean so much to you in such a short span of time- somehow he’s made a season that previously only meant cold and misery become a time of warmth and laughter. And now you have to say goodbye, before you’ve even started. There’s so many adventures the two of you could go on together, and yet you don’t get to. It’s so cruel. You’re alarmed when the tears come, unbidden.

Taehyung watches the expressions play out across your face, before wordlessly reaching out with the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the tears that fall away. His touch is gentle and his expression somber. He hasn’t even donned his usual Santa’s hat.

“I’m sorry.” You say, in a small voice. “I know I said I wouldn’t cry.”

He shakes his head and smiles, pulling his chair up so that it’s seated as close as possible to you.

“It’s ok. Just means I have to work a little harder. I wanna see that pretty smile, before I go.” He reassures you. You sniff and scrub at your eyes before staring determinedly at your pancakes.

“Ok.” You say. “Let’s do this, then.”

Taehyung searches your expression, and you’re not sure what he sees there, but it seems to satisfy him. You feel that the last few days, his smiles had been duller and decidedly less genuine, but this time he hits you with the full force of his dazzling smile.

“First things first, we have to open presents!” He cheers. You frown.

“But I don’t have any presents-“ you protest, but Taehyung cuts you off with a sharp rush of air through his teeth.

“Then what’s that?” He questions innocently, gesturing to your ratty Christmas tree.

And sure enough, beneath it is laden with presents. You stare at it for a long time.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You finally admit. Taehyung laughs.

“You enjoying my gifts is the present.” He says dismissively, before crowding you towards the tree. “Anyway, it’s a universal Christmas tradition to open your presents after breakfast, and I have failed you as a Christmas Spirit if we don’t do that.”

He slides the first gift towards you and eyes you coyly. “Open this one first.” He urges you.

They’re all small gifts, relatively inexpensive. You’re not expecting Swarovski crystals from Taehyung considering he’s an unemployed Christmas Spirit. But each gift is thoughtful and sweet and bought specifically with you and your tastes in mind. By the time you open the last of the presents, you’re fighting off tears again.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You lament, sniffling slightly as you set the last gift aside. Taehyung’s eyebrows wrinkle together and his mouth pulls into a pout.

“I already told you. Just being here is a gift for me.” He insists. “Besides, it’s not like I can use anything you give me for eleven months.”

That causes you to fall silent. You bite your lip as you look away. You had been determined not to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but you can’t do it. You can’t spend the day pretending you’re not on the verge of tears.

“I know I said I wouldn’t. But I can’t keep pretending this isn’t going to happen, Tae.” You say, and when he looks at you, you know it’s the first chink in his armour. He’s held it together considerably better than you, and you’d thought maybe it just didn’t bother him. After all, you were the one with feelings, not him. “At least... you can answer questions, right? If I know more, maybe it will hurt less.”

But looking at him now, you realise that he’s been fighting to stay composed to.

“What do you want to know?” He finally says, and he’s quiet. Defeated. So unlike the optimistic, cheerful being you’d come to adore.

“Are you trapped? Will it be be uncomfortable?” You question. “Can you still hear me? Will you... will you be lonely?”

“Not exactly.” He reassures you. “I look like a human but I’m also a glorified Christmas ornament. Time and events are different when I’m a scarecrow. It’s hard to explain.... but it’s not so bad. It’s just... how I am. I’m waiting, but I’m not trapped.” He explains vaguely. “I can hear and see what’s going on, but I just process things differently. Time just... feels different.”

You nod, a little comforted that at least you’re not sending your friend to be trapped in a prison of his own body for eleven months.

“Am I meant to pass you on to someone else?” You ask. “Or do I keep you here?”

“I guess...” He looks uncertain, and tentative. “I guess it depends how your year goes. Eleven months...” his voice cracks and he clears it awkwardly to hide it. “It’s a long time. You can keep me here, and I’ll see you next December, if you need a little extra help enjoying the season... or you can pass me on to someone else if you don’t need me anymore.”

He’s right. Eleven months is such a long time. Long enough to forget Taehyung and his bright smile and cheery disposition. Long enough to spend next Christmas with your family and pretend like things are ok between you. Long enough... long enough to forget just how much your heart aches today, and fool yourself into doing the exact same thing next year.

“What do you want?” You finally settle on. It’s the last question of the interrogation. After this, you can pretend everything is ok. You can go on like nothing’s wrong.

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He points at himself, bewildered by your question.

“What do... I want?” He echoes, as if he’s never heard the words before. You nod.

“I want you to spend Christmas happy.” You confess. “So where do you want to be, next Christmas?”

He’s quiet for so long you’re worried that his brain has stopped functioning or that his weird Christmas Spirit voodoo has kicked in. But when he finally looks at you again, his eyes shine with so much emotion that your heart aches in your chest at the sight.

“I want to be here.” He finally says. “I want to spend Christmas with you again. There’s so many things we still didn’t get to try, and I want to do them all.”

Your throat goes tight, because yet again, you’re signing yourself up for heartbreak. If you do this, you’re the only one who will be hurt. Pining alone for most of the year for a season you used to hate. The irony of the situation is not lost on you.

But you’re helpless to him, to his smile and his sweetness and his warmth, and you can’t say goodbye.

“Ok.” You agree. “Then you’ll stay with me. Now let’s have some fun.”

The day must inevitably draw to a close. Though you and Taehyung linger at every activity, attempting to draw out each moment, the point in the day comes where the two of you are back at the apartment, with the time drawing closer and closer to midnight.

You unlock your apartment door with trembling fingers and inhale a shaking breath. You glance over your shoulder at Taehyung. He’s a broad-shouldered person, tall and imposing were it not for the warmth of his eyes and his puppy-like demeanour and normally he just seems larger than life. But in that moment, he’s so small and uncertain.

There’s so much you could say. You could plead with him; try and see if there’s a way to bargain out of the inevitable goodbye. Or you could thank him, from the bottom of your heart, for the first enjoyable Christmas you’ve had in your entire life. Crying feels like a viable option too, or getting angry. Your heart can’t seem to settle on a response and so instead it’s settled on numbness. Like it’s cold, lifeless hunk of metal rattling around in your ribcage.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Is what you finally settle on. He stares searching at your expression, before nodding to himself and squaring his shoulders

“Yeah. That sounds fun. I’ll make us some hot chocolate as well.” He says, stepping past you into the foyer.

You eventually settle on watching the Polar Express. When you sit on the couch, Taehyung sits far too close and tugs a blanket over both your laps. He hands you a mug of hot chocolate and the two of you settle into a peaceful quiet, opposite from the laughter and activity of the daytime. The evening melancholy seems to have settled in. The whole movie, you don’t really pay attention, instead trying not to think about the way the clock on the wall seems to be moving quickly.

“(Y/N).” You’re startled when Taehyung calls your name. It’s out of the blue, and you hadn’t noticed the way he’s steadily edged closer until the words are said almost directly into your ear. You’d been watching the clock instead of the movie, and you think for a moment that he intends to reprimand you. You turn to look at him and the proximity startles the breath out of you. “It’s almost midnight.” He tells you, as if you haven’t been glaring the clock down for most of the night.

It’s true, though- the minute hand is edging closer and closer to the dreaded twelve. It makes you realise that he’s been eyeing the clock as well.

“So it is.” You acknowledge, and he’s so close that his breath skates against the skin of your cheeks, staring at you with an intensity you don’t understand.

“Did I... Did I do a good job?” He asks you. You press your lips together; in a way he did. You think you may have smiled in this month alone more than you have the entire year. But you also know that the rest of the year will now pale in comparison; the rest of winter will leech by, depressingly dreary, and summer will come and go in muddy heat. The year will both inch and speed by and that whole time you will have the special month of December in mind. The times you spent with Taehyung.

“You did.” You finally say. “I... Christmas was always so lonely and miserable to me. Where we tried to pretend that things were ok and merry and it would just dissolve into screaming matches. But with you, it wasn’t. You helped me make it into something warm, and beautiful. And even though...” your voice cracks, and it takes you a moment to reclaim your composure. “Even though the ending will be lonely and sad, you gave me all these wonderful memories. I’ll hear a Christmas carol and think of you from now on, Taehyung.”

When you finally gain the courage to meet his gaze, you’re startled to find tears pouring down his cheeks. He’s been sad and a little misty-eyed ever since he admitted he wouldn’t be around after Christmas, but he’s also been frustratingly composed.

But in that moment, he’s anything but. He looks devastated as he brings his hands up to press into his eyes in a vain attempt to stem the flow of tears.

“I’m sorry.” He gasps. “I tried so hard but... I never imagined Christmas would be like this. I was only supposed to make you smile and then go back to being a scarecrow and that should have been enough but it’s not.”

He’s full on sobbing now, and you can only stare in bewilderment as tears form in your own eyes.

“I want to spend New Year’s Eve with you, and start the New Year together. I want to see you on your birthday. I want to see you on happy days and sad days. I want to...” he rubs his eyes clear and stares straight at you. “I want to make you smile the whole year.” He confesses.

And that’s when your phone goes off. You’d set an alarm, earlier in the morning, so that you’d know the exact moment midnight hit. You glance away, for just a moment, dread hitting you full force like a sledgehammer.

And when you turn back, it’s too late. The familiar little scarecrow stares up at you from the couch, where Taehyung had been seated just moments before.

And you finally let yourself break down at the sight of the familiar button eyes.

And just like that, Christmas is over.

“Why does your apartment smell like someone’s been dumped?” Jin sniffs as he steps through the threshold of your home, uninvited as usual. You’re not sure how he got in, but he probably had a copy of your key made somehow without you noticing. He’s prone to doing invasive things like that.

“Being dumped doesn’t have a smell.” You snap, from where you had been curled up on the couch under a mound of blankets.

“Yes it does.” He insists. “It smells like...” he pauses to take one long, obnoxious sniff to the air before wrinkling his nose. “B.O. and cheetos.” He recites.

You sigh, still not bothering to shift from your blanket nest. You’d been expecting his visit, to be honest. It’s the day before New Year’s Eve and you haven’t responded to his annual New Year’s Eve Bash invite. He’s very intense about RSVPs.

“What do you want, Jin?” You ask. He picks his way delicately towards you, navigating his way through your semi-dissembled Christmas tree before settling before you in a crouch. You’d made it part-way through the post-Christmas clean up before you’d been too upset to continue.

“Well, you aren’t answering my texts or calls. Zero activity on social media, no RSVP to my party... So I thought I’d make sure you hadn’t choked on a piece of tinsel.” He looks around your apartment with distaste. “I’m actually not sure if I’m relieved that you’re ok if this is what “ok” looks like.”

You ignore him, choosing to focus your attention back to Netflix. His expression softens, just a fraction.

“Tell me what’s going on, (Y/N). And where’s.. where’s Taehyung?” He questions tentatively.

You’re unable to conceal the way your shoulders stiffen, just slightly, at the mention of his name. You’ve been doing your best in the five days since Christmas to bounce back and return to normal life, but you can’t seem to. It’s easier to lounge around on the couch than to muster up the emotional energy to pretend you’re ok. You’ve spent too long pretending you’re ok. There isn’t a single drop of you left that can even try to do so.

“He had to go.” You say, hating the way your voice goes abruptly raw with tears. Jin’s eyes widen just slightly, and he shuffles closer.

“What do you mean he had to go? He’s-“ As he said the words, his eyes had been darting wildly around the apartment, but he abruptly cuts himself off when he spots the scarecrow on your mantle. “Why is Taehyung...” he begins, before his gaze flickers to you.

“Oh.” He exclaims simply, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, (Y/N).” He says, his voice filled with sympathy and sadness on your behalf.

You’re surprised when Jin engulfs you in a hug. You’ve never had that sort of friendship- he prefers to show his love by nagging you. But it’s weirdly comforting and you melt into his embrace.

“I’m sorry I didn’t RSVP.” You say glumly. “I didn’t feel like celebrating.”

Jin pulls away and scrutinises your expression.

“Forgive me if it seems probing, but I don’t understand what happened. You guys seemed like you were going great at dinner the other night.” He says. “Why... why didn’t you use his wish?”

You pull back and blink at him in confusion.

“His... wish?” You echo. Jin nods.

“All Christmas Spirit receive one wish for their entire career. It was instituted recently, though, maybe only in the last twenty years or so, so maybe Taehyung didn’t know about it?” Jin wonders.

Your eyes widen.

“Christmas Spirit?” You splutter. “You mean you knew?”

For someone who’s dropping a bombshell, Jin looks remarkably deadpan.

“Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t notice a Christmas Spirit living in my store for five years?” He questions you with exasperation.

You stare at him incredulously.

“And you never thought, just once, that it would be a good idea to tell me what I was bringing home?” You demand. He rolls his eyes.

“Oh please. Like you would have believed me.” He says dismissively. “Little Miss Grinch, hates Christmas, told her weird Christmas Scarecrow is actually a special Christmas Spirit? I’m a simple man, (Y/N). I see an opportunity for a great Hallmark movie, I take it.”

You stare at him in rage, and then something occurs to you.

“That’s why you never came when I texted you that night! You knew it was Taehyung!” You realise in horror. “What if you had been wrong?”

At least he has enough sense of propriety to look sheepish.

“Taehyung would have helped you if I was wrong.” He offers meekly. The change in pace of conversation has you deflating.

“If you knew... why did you let him go home with me? I could have spent Christmas at home, alone, and not be dealing with any of this.” You confess, and Jin softens just a little bit.

“Well, because I didn’t want you to spend Christmas alone.” He admits. “Every year, you’re so miserable. And I thought Taehyung could change that. And honestly, I didn’t think it would end up like this and even if I did, I thought Taehyung would use his wish.”

“What wish?” You ask. Jin shrugs.

“Every Christmas Spirit gets one wish throughout their career. Usually it ends up being that they become human, but I know of some who have wished for other things.” He admits. You brows knit together as you gaze at your friend. Where is all this knowledge coming from?

“Jin... just who are you?” You ask hesitantly. He smiles awkwardly and rubs at the back of his neck.

“I’m Jin. The same Jin you’ve known for years. But before that, I was a little Christmas bear who spent years trying to make people happy on Christmas day.” He admits. “And one year... I’d had enough. So I wished that I could be human. And here I am today.” He smiles at you. “And it’s not too late. Taehyung can still do the same.” He glances over at your mantle, where the motionless Christmas Scarecrow sits. “Anyway, I have to get going. I was just coming to make sure you were alive.” He gets up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe give the apartment a clean, and then you can sit down and have a nice, long chat with that scarecrow over there.”

He makes to leave, but can’t resist tossing one last comment over his shoulder.

“I’m just going to assume you’re bringing a plus one. I’ll change your response to “going” on the fb invite.”

One clean apartment later, you stand before your mantle, gazing into the button eyes of the scarecrow. It’s weird to know that behind them, Taehyung watches you. What is he thinking? Is he sad? Lonely? Trapped? Is he listening?

You’re strangely nervous. Taehyung had told you that he’d wanted to spend the rest of the year with you, but maybe he changed his mind. Maybe watching you lounge around your apartment the past five days made him realise how lame you are. And if he only gets one wish in his entire career, why would he waste it now? He’s only had one Christmas to live out his purpose as a Christmas Spirit- maybe he’s not ready to give it up yet. Maybe you’re asking too much of him. It’s only been a month; to ask him to become human and face the horrors of the human world is maybe the cruelest thing you could do.

But your heart yearns, and ultimately that it what gives you the courage to begin speaking.

“I... don’t know how much you heard of what Jin said earlier.” You admit. “He pretty loud so you probably heard at least some of it. But the basic gist... is that you get a wish. Only one wish, so once you use it, that’s it. So, you have to use it wisely.”

You look away and squeeze your eyes shut.

“And, I understand if you want to save it. You’ve only just started out and maybe you want more time. But I was thinking... if all that stuff you said before is true... Maybe you can use it now. To be a human.” You inhale shakily. The offer is out in the open now.

The scarecrow doesn’t move.

“I mean, maybe you didn’t. That’s ok. I’ll be ok if you don’t actually want to spend the rest of the year with me. It’s a lot to ask when it’s only been a month. But I want to.” You squint and you feel the hot prick of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. “This has been the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I’ve never smiled so much before, and so easily. Something about you makes it so easy. And I was never brave enough to say it, but I like your smile too. I like it so much. It’s ridiculous that you can say my smile is lovely when you can look in the mirror and see what your smile looks like. And I... I don’t want to only get to see it on Christmas. I don’t want to spend eleven months waiting for you but the ridiculous part is that I will.” You admit. “I’ll just keep comparing things to the time I spent with you. I’ll spend eleven months of the year waiting for you’re smile. And that’s because... I really like you, Tae. So much- no, too much. I like you too much.” You’re full on crying at this point. “So please. Spend it on me. Wish to be a human. Wish to be here the rest of the year.”

You fall silent, and still, the scarecrow stares at you. Unmoving, unchanging.

You smile helplessly, before scrubbing at your eyes. He doesn’t want to use his wish. That’s ok. He doesn’t have to. It was stupid of you to think that he would.

You sniffle and open your eyes.

Only to be engulfed by two arms around your body.

“I like you too much as well.” Taehyung gasps. It takes you a moment to process- your face is smushed into his chest and his arms hold you securely. “I didn’t know about the wish. But... I want to keep spending time with you. I’d have spent it on you a hundred times over if I’d known.”

You go to pull away so that you can see his face, but he doesn’t give you the chance to because his lips are meeting yours.

It’s a sweet kiss but also a little clumsy and eager. Like he’s worried time is running out.

Gradually, the urgency fades and he pulls away. At this proximity, you can see the way his lashes frame his bright eyes, and the way his eyes crinkle into little tiny half moons. It’s a little surreal, being able to gaze upon him so freely when just last week you’d been prepared for a goodbye.

“So... you’re a human now? You get to stay?” You ask. He pulls back and squints at himself.

“I guess so. I can’t seem to turn back into a scarecrow so I guess... that I’m human now.” He says.

You kiss him again, after that. It’s soft and sweet and perfect. When you pull away, his eyes are hazy and his expression is unfocused. He looks adorably dishevelled and distracted, and then he offers you that smile, the one that makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. His fingers come up to delicately trail over the paths of your face, like he’s trying to memorise what you look like.

“You’re smiling.” He breathes, his tone filled with wonder. His thumb comes up to reverently trace the curve of your lips. “It was your smile.” He confesses. You blink up at him in confusion and he chuckles in response. “It threw me off guard. At the ornament store. Up until that point I’d been so nervous whether I was in over my head with the whole Christmas spirit thing. And then you smiled at me and it wasn’t even because of anything I’d even done and suddenly I wanted to keep that smile on your face.”

You flush, a bit flustered by his admission, but he isn’t finished, apparently.

“It’s so pretty. You’re pretty.” He insists. “When you kissed me under the mistletoe I thought my heart was going to burst and then I remembered what I was. That I’m a Christmas Spirit and that I don’t get to do this. I get your smile at Christmas and then that’s it.” He smiles self-deprecatingly at himself before it shifts into something warmer, and fonder. “But now... now...” he trails away, too emotional to continue and he settles for pulling you into another tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. All you can smell is that comforting scent of peppermint and cinnamon, and you melt. “Now I get your smiles the rest of the year too. I can’t wait to spend the rest of the year with you.” He confesses, a soft, whispered confession into the warm crook of your neck.

And there’s lots to do, and things you need to work out now that Taehyung is by your side as a human. Your relationship with your parents isn’t fixed, and he doesn’t have a job or a source of income, and there’s still some remaining Christmas decorations that need to be placed in storage.

But that’s ok. You’ll both work all that out together eventually. After all, you have the rest of the year to do so.

#thebtswritersclub #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #castlebangtan #taehyung fluff #writing #secret santa

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