#but also I really like the stronger sense of art direction here. it feels less boring than the old version | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wincore · 4 years ago

Text

runway (m) | jung yoonoh

pairing: model!jaehyun x fashion designer!reader

words: 18.7k

summary: there are some things that come with dedicating your life to fashion: a taste for finer fabrics, a splash of love for art, and an appreciation of the human body. none of these are supposed to include the hottest model you have ever laid eyes on, or the fact that you completely, utterly hate his guts.

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, light smut, comedy-ish

warnings: sexual content, mentions of anxiety

a/n: woohooooooo she’s finally here!!!! i cant believe this!! everything aside, i do not have first hand experience working in the fashion industry so please do take this with a grain of salt. i’m also going to pass out. good night <3

A list of things you appreciate: colours, satin, comfort.

A list of things you do not appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

The hum of the car engine has little effect on you; you travel like this almost every day. Tall buildings, scorching pavement, the blare of traffic—it’s Seoul, after all. You sigh, more of a short expression of annoyance, scrolling down with your thumb and back up again. Since when did he get permission to post pictures from pre-fittings? And one of your works, no less.

His feed is so messy. You click your tongue. For a model, that is.

You open the story again and consider messaging him. It’s your cherry red coat, or rather the collar of it, golden thread sewn in swirls of patterns, and a sheer floral shirt extending all the way up to cover Jaehyun’s neck. You frown. It’s meant for showcase, not teasers. Even if the picture extends just from the curve of his shoulder to his parted lips, you can’t stand the sight of it on him. It’s not bias, you try to tell yourself. This is business. You tap your fingertips rapidly against the back of your phone. This is obviously business.

Seoul Fashion Week is the height of your anxiety, which means you have little regard for anything else decorated around you. With a new frenzy arising in every minute of your day—you don’t have time to think, a sense of madness in the way you keep busy. Your Elixir collection is more than what you had hoped for it to be, a twinge of satisfaction sitting at the pit of your stomach. It nicely puts together everything rich and extravagant, humanity’s first love—everything you despise really, so Jaehyun wasn’t a bad choice for a model.

You backspace on your text. Is this rude? Should you care if you’re being rude? How unprofessional, you imagine his voice saying. It wouldn’t be the first unprofessional thing you’d done.

The final text reads ‘Glad you’re enjoying my designs, but they were not meant to be publicly displayed before the official show, as common sense predicts.’

No, of course you’re not trying to be snarky. It’s perfectly formal. All that time writing professional complaint letters to companies for ripping off your designs paid off, you suppose.

You exit the Uber, thanking the driver quickly before you rush into the building, checking the time on your watch. It’s sunny, and hotter than you anticipated. You can only hope it’s cooler tomorrow so the heat doesn’t suffocate your models.

The company building is another madness in its own. Joohyun greets you with a quick smile, a bunch of fabrics being handed to her before she can make any conversation with you, and the rest of the workers bow in greeting before getting back to their own individual windstorms. You step over a few boxes on the grounds, beelining to your workspace so you can settle down your bag.

You’re team leader, you tell yourself, a short breath tumbling out of your mouth. Even so, you don’t do very well under several pairs of eyes on you at once. Some part of you is still the timid fashion designer, packing your entire identity into a small sketchbook.

The sunlight is blaring out of control in the place—it’s meant to be spacious and sunlit, of course, but the heat makes you adjust your collar before you can move forward. The bustle of the style and design team along with the production team in the same place is akin to a nightmare, and you trace your steps quickly.

“Guys,” you begin, fidgeting with the leather strap of your watch as you continue, “Firstly, good job.”

There’s a bunch of short cheers and clapping to interrupt before you can continue.

“As for tomorrow…stylists, I need you to touch up the collars in all the Western-style coats. The detailing needs to be kept clean and sharp. I want the audience to be able to see it.”

You pause, your tone still neutral. “And let’s not start again on the lacing. We had that discussion yesterday.”

There’s some nods and sounds of affirmation.

“Production team…I don’t think I can say much to you without Doyoung getting on my case.”

There’s collective laughter and you crack a smile. With a few more rapid words, you dismiss yourself, walking over to your colleagues to help them out. You’re team leader, the one with the final say in all the designs, but you can’t possibly imagine completing it without Joohyun or the others.

“Good pep talk there, (name),” Joohyun says, walking over to you as her hands sharp and steady as they go through the clothes rack.

“They think I’m an asshole,” you say, breathing out. You know your words are too direct. Drunk co-workers on a Friday night are not the best place to discover facts about yourself. Sometimes even you think you sound bossy. You check the key parts for each item, knowing you’ll be doing this once again before the show.

“We wouldn’t be going anywhere without direction,” Joohyun responds, laughing as if you’d said something silly. “We’re all glad you’re here, (name).”

Words like these are so easing for a mess like you, not that you’d admit it. Joohyun has always been a sort of mother figure to you after you entered this company, followed by Doyoung. A good few years senior to you, she started out as a model before she moved on to designing.

It’s her last year working in this place. But of course, it’s a given when she’s starting her own label (mom clothes and children’s apparel, she’d called her clothing line, rolling her eyes) and one of the most well-known names in South Korean fashion not having her own label is sacrilege (according to your colleagues anyway). She’d said to contact her when you start your own family, and maybe she’ll send a congratulations package for both you and your baby. You’d laughed. Out of all the insults you could ever receive, that was perhaps the loveliest one.

Ridiculousness aside, you’ll miss the comfort of her presence. You were still in school when your designs led you to a showcase in New York Fashion Week, your sponsor more than generous. You stepped into it too soon, too eager. It was breath-taking and awful all at once—and the first time you saw a world outside of your own. It was overwhelming. There are few people in this new world as kind as Joohyun.

The sound of your notification snaps you out of your thoughts. You swear you kept it on vibrate, a little irked at having to search for your phone when your hands are full. The notification itself brings on a stronger wave of vexation.

_jeongjaehyun:

My manager told me it was good publicity

But I could take it down for you

The ‘for you’ adds an unnecessary effect, you think as you hold back a scowl. And what does ‘could’ mean? A miscommunication with the sales team isn’t even on the list of things you need to worry about. Honestly, you don’t have time to fight him, quickly typing out a ‘whatever. it’s okay’ before looking back up.

You jump, the look on Joohyun’s face a little suspicious for what might come out of her mouth.

“It’s not a crime to text people.” She shrugs, shuffling through the rack one more time to take the clothes for transportation.

You’re quick to jump to your defence. “I have nothing to do with him.”

Joohyun looks at you, amused. “He’s not a bad person, you know? How long are you going to keep hating him for one thing he did?”

“It’s not one thing,” you groan, averting your gaze to the clothes so as to help her. “I just- he’s so- so- oh come on. You know how I feel about him.”

“I’m just saying you don’t have any reason to. Everyone’s different from what they appear to be. Especially in this line of work.” Joohyun balances the clothes you give her across her forearms.

“So he’s fake. I hate that even more.” You sigh, pulling out the blue silk overcoat, the colour matching Joohyun’s work dress.

“You mean unreal? Models tend to be that way—don’t be so harsh on him, honey.”

You simply shake your head, words entering one ear and out the other. Joohyun presses her lips into a line but lets it go soon enough. She knows you’re capable enough to separate professional from personal and that should be enough. You’re not keeping a tab on something as warming as spite.

You can’t believe you’d ever been within five feet of him without turning your nose. You can’t believe you’d smiled at his jokes once, even if it was just that one night. He was the godsent Prince Charming, just perhaps not yours. Paris surely had a distressing effect on you that year.

You don’t make the same mistake twice.

You walk back to your desk to take a seat and scavenge through your belongings, most of the people already outside. Fashion Week, which once upon a time was a faraway dream, now is part of life—exciting and exhausting. It’s almost always over in a flash, your love for it whisked in peaks of bittersweet. (“You work your ass off for six months and it’s, what, fifteen minutes long?” your mother had asked after you’d brought her to one of the shows.)

This line of work is a nightmare without mental preparation. You have a degree, you have experience and yet it doesn’t feel enough, confidence easier to drain in a person than blood. And you’re not very fond of pale cheeks.

It came to asking yourself if you really have it in you for a few months—a test of sorts everyone puts themselves through at least once in their lives. At that time, your favourite professor, a bald man nearing his retirement years with the wrinkliest face you’d ever seen, had asked you just one question.

Do you love it?

Of course you fucking do.

You couldn’t say that to his face, sure, but you know he saw it in you—either the effort you put out every day of the semester or the way your hands moved across fabric like a machine, your designs made with the persistence of nature. Your final year project landed you an internship at one of the largest clothing brands in Seoul and your internship landed you a job at the same. Your job, well, lead you to Jaehyun, among many other things.

You scowl at the image of his face that appears when you close your eyes, massaging your forehead—it’s hard to not see it everywhere already, from Cosmopolitan to Vogue.

While you were biting your nails in New York, Jaehyun had flown out to Paris with Saint Laurent, one of the younger male models to show his face for the first time. He’d taken the whole place by storm, you had heard from a friend. To say half the world had fallen in love—either with his dimples or his confident walk—would be an understatement. A privilege, to be gold-plated in a mercenary world.

You’d briefly made eye contact at the airport the first time you saw him, a year later, when you were arriving in Incheon and he was leaving it. It was London, that time. For him, Milan. As much as you couldn’t believe living a fashion student’s dream, Jaehyun’s face was truly, unironically much more unrealistic. Your classmates’ gabs and gossip in sewing class had suddenly made sense. You taught yourself to not be swayed by faces, even if they look like they’re stitched together by Aphrodite and Apollo with their bare hands—friendly advice from seniors at the orientation night ‘party’.

You’d met him formally in Paris, after you’d graduated from fashion school. He was certainly the most beautiful face in the room—and you weren’t the only one aware of it. The entire night you’d been starting conversations you couldn’t relate to, till he came along with his charming dimples and a faux connect. You were naive, and a little tipsy. The attraction was obvious, and it had been you by the bathroom pulling him in for a drunk kiss till he’d snapped out of the daze—as if it were some joke you’d been playing. He’d apologized before leaving, like it wasn’t a big deal, with silken lips parted in a gesture of remorse and a short, firm bow. It didn’t settle very well alongside the merlot in your gut.

You. You’re a big deal.

You were alone in a room full of painted faces and he sat atop the throne they worshipped. Why had you expected any more from him—in the understanding nods or the few kind words that escaped his lips? You felt stupid. He made you feel like smiling for the first time that night and you hated him for it—you’re sure he doesn’t care either way. Or maybe he does, with the wonderfully irked responses he graces you with.

Jaehyun made something out of himself in these nine years, just as you have. Runway supermodel to the face of South Korean men in fashion to an entrepreneur, he might as well have a documentary on him—and he would if he didn’t evade paparazzi and reporters like his life depended on it. Enigmatic, the articles wrote. You scoffed. Conceited, more like. After the initial years, he decided to settle in New York, frequently flying to Seoul and other fashion capitals for business and contractual events. Some of those occasionally include your shows.

Having Jaehyun gets more attention but it’s not like you’re a new, doe-eyed kid. Your works have been featured for popstars and foreign celebrities, and you’ve been invited to several interviews with big magazines. You’ve gone global (albeit under the brand’s name) and you’ve been to places you’d only seen pictures of in the very same magazines you looked up to. They can describe your work as unique all they want—and you don’t mean to sound fucking pretentious—but your job is nothing more than an expression of the self. It’s a part of you; you first started sewing patches onto things simply because your closet lacked colour. And eventually, you found yourself searching for more—colours, fabrics, dreams. You’re devoted to your job because you love it, you want to do it. You’re allowed to be a little arrogant about it.

If only trying desperately to be arrogant did something about your insecurities.

You hope your works redefine themes, your need to stand out contrasting with your fear of it. Eye-catching is always your forte; this time it’s fairy tales and royalty in a mix of East meets West.

D-1. Same feeling, new season.

The press is here, you take note. Photographers. Models. Students. Vloggers. It’s a burst of colours down there.

You hate running late, rushing down the stairs to the plaza through the crowds of people. Some recognize you, as they make their way to you but you end up walking a little faster to minimize your presence. You curse yourself for wearing the jacket. It goes nicely with the rest of your outfit and March isn’t supposed to be this hot. You wipe the sweat from your hairline, hoping the makeup is waterproof like it said.

You consider stopping at the café for a fix of coffee but stop when you notice Joohyun holding a bunch of cups by the venue. She doesn’t look too happy about the sun, or the burdening errand of fetching coffee. You adjust her little red beret at her request, smiling at her annoyance but trying your best to keep it hidden. You don’t want to get cussed out by Joohyun.

“Someone tell Doyoung to get his coffee,” Joohyun complains. “I’ve been waiting for half an hour.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” you say, sipping your coffee. The taste fills your senses with a pleasant dose of energy and you hum out a satisfied note. “Why are there so many students out here? Influencers? Did we sponsor this many kids?”

Joohyun shakes her head. “Jaehyun just got here.”

You suppress an eye-roll. “Wonder why he still comes back for Seoul when he’s booked full for New York.”

“It’s his hometown.” Joohyun shrugs. “I’d come back too. Even if I’m paid more out there.”

You finish your coffee and duck into the fitting room, much to Joohyun’s displeasure as she’s left alone again. Doyoung’s in for an earful, you chuckle thinking about it.

It would look like a hell of a mess to anyone not accustomed to this. Everyone is a flurry by themselves alone but if you mix them with the eclectic crowd you find at a Seoul Fashion Week backstage, it’s more of a disaster. A colorful one, at the very least.

New York was worse. You were too young, in a world that was too big. It’s a miracle you even received an opportunity from so big a name. But, you suppose, it hardly matters now.

You no longer live in a world where Seoul is far from Paris. Fashion and art are things unmarked by place of origin.

It’s easy to spot Jaehyun in a corner, two people adjusting his coat for better fitting at the waist. His makeup’s done, you notice as you get closer. Good, you think. If any makeup were to get on the fabric, you’d go feral (although you do have full confidence in the makeup artists here and their choice of product).

“Jaehyun,” you greet. Your co-workers give each other a look before excusing themselves. You raise an eyebrow, too late to stop them. They didn’t finish the looping of the belt properly, you take notice. You wrinkle your nose. Sloppy.

“(name).” He responds with an equal lack of amusement.

You pull the belt at his waist, Jaehyun stiffening at the contact.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“My job? What do you think, genius?”

Jaehyun presses his lips together and lets you complete the altercations. The chiffon shirt allows you to see the hazed definition of his core, a rather flustering thing to be exposed to for anyone with eyes. When you look up in a moment’s mistake, you’re reminded of why his face is everywhere. Flawless, almost. You hate it. Averting your eyes, you fix the collar so the pattern stands out more. You can feel his eyes over your outstretched hand all the way to your face, subtle as ever. If Jaehyun thinks you’re bothered by it, he’s an idiot for believing so.

You take a step back to analyse the coat. The golden threads are flawlessly detailed, spiraling in patterns of different flowers and vines around the collar, gradually getting larger as they twine at the base of the neck. They meet the polished rhinestone buttons a little lower. You almost smile. You’d sewn each thread and each button in yourself the first time. It hardly looks the same now.

Bright red is an eyesore if you look at it longer than five minutes, you realize. The frown that’s been itching to show up finally does. Suddenly, you’re glad Jaehyun is modelling this piece. You shake your head and look back at his face, from his deep-set brown eyes to his full, tinted lips before pausing. The little Swarovski pearls line strands of his hair in a starry display, perfect in every angle of it. It’s easy to appreciate the human beauty when you see his face, and even if you claim your vehement dislike for him, you’re not a liar nor an idiot.

How infuriating it is, to let things be. Bad blood can only dry to an ugly, unusable brown.

You narrow your eyes at the thinning layer of glitter on his peach-blushed cheeks. He doesn’t exactly need much more of it but the unevenness bothers you.

“Your makeup needs retouching,” you say, frowning. “Did you touch your face? I thought you were a more...professional model than this, Jaehyun.”

“You walked in,” he replies, casually. “I was distracted.”

You feel your cheeks colour. “That’s- that’s not a reason.”

He smiles politely. “I suppose I’ll leave you then. You must have other work to do.”

You hold back a biting remark. His playfulness doesn’t sit well with you; he’s polite just enough to annoy you and straightforward just enough to make you want to throw something at him. He could’ve directly told you to fuck off maybe—but oh no, it’s Jung Yoonoh, seamless and radiant, with only the sweetest collection of words on his tongue. You think of the first time you met, something warm in the corner of your heart. You’d mistaken it, of course.

He didn’t care for you, or any of the people trailing after him and his silver flute, or the rest of the shallow carcass of a world so undeniably obsessed with him. It didn’t hit you till he’d left you hanging, mangled memories of something close to hurt. You’re glad you didn’t kiss him. You wouldn’t be able to get over the embarrassment, the blow to your pride had it escalated any further.

And of course, the one thing he did to make you absolutely certain of his distaste—was simply choose another designer’s work over yours when given a choice. It seems silly, unprofessional even, but the lack of response to your Fall/Winter ready-to-wear collection had been embarrassingly low, someone else’s designs sold out at an equally awful rate. You—your insecurities—wanted to blame your own failings—maybe it was the lining of the coats, or the colours maybe— the fabric? Perhaps, you hadn’t focused on comfort all too well. But it was clear, a word from Jung Yoonoh could change the minds of a fashion-forward youth as easily as his face and physique scored contracts with the biggest brands and labels. And it was clear he didn’t like you very much.

You walk over to the other models, eyes scanning down to the T. You glance over one of Joohyun’s designs, a modern men’s hanbok. The blood red paired with yellow is certainly easing on the eyes, though the shades vary from top to bottom, like a sunset. The dark grey chunky shoes fitted under dark tights complete the entire future oriental look you suppose she was going for. She’s only showcasing two of her designs this year and they’re just before the centrepiece. You shake your head, clutching the fabric of your jacket sleeve. You hate seeing other designs before a showcase, even if they’re a friend’s.

You turn your head to make eye contact with Jaehyun across the room. It takes a few seconds but you snap your head in another direction to break the spell.

How strange. You haven’t had nearly enough coffee to feel jittery under his gaze.

You’re forced to take a breather away from this jungle of liveliness.

The amount of people outside the venue gives you yet another headache. Excited college students and fashion vloggers stand outside expectantly, and you give a short bow and polite ‘hello’ to anyone who approaches. You desperately want to be left alone. Even if it’s for a few seconds.

You walk quickly, your feet soundless against the floor. Your mask performs considerably (and surprisingly) well in hiding you. You consider visiting the Design Market to enjoy a seat alone and charge your phone before it’s show time.

Open spaces. You need open spaces. Suddenly, the DDP seems to be suffocating you despite its tremendous size.

“Hey!” You’re greeted with a sudden force to your right side, an arm wrapping around you. You look up to see Johnny, a wide grin on his face and you let yourself mirror it, shaking your head.

“Big day,” he says. “Want me to take some pictures? I’ve got some time between shows—lovely outfit, as usual.”

It’s strange how Johnny’s the photographer and not the model—you’ve heard he receives a lot of requests to get on the other side of the camera though he always refuses. He doesn’t visit Seoul as often, but he has much to do in uplifting the mood with his strangely effective sense of humour. The coffee-coloured shirt he’s wearing goes well with the plaid grey coat, reminiscent of Fendi’s Spring collection, and sometimes you wonder whether a job as a fashion photographer ever had much to do with his style. Johnny has always been effortlessly impressive.

You politely decline, your mind still focused on the smooth running of things. Nothing’s ever on time when it comes to Fashion Weeks—yes, it’s called fashionably late but it just makes you annoyed. You consider ducking back to your venue, adding some final final touches and any more last-minute altercations. Years have passed and you’re still not used to it, fingers itching to do something about everything. You’re grateful the company gives you your creative space but it only makes you wonder just how far the limits are.

Johnny accompanies you to the charging station till he’s distracted by some of the children in the latest Fendi kidswear and you make a mental note to never bring your kids to Fashion Week, if you ever choose to have them.

You breathe in and out for a few moments, feeling lightheaded before the sense of reality touches on you. People walk in and out of the stores lining the pathways, a soft buzz of conversation in the air as your eyes follow their movement. You wonder if you’ll have your own stores opened in plazas like this—here, in Seoul, and on brightly lit streets of the world outside. After all, colourful dreams are the hardest to get rid of. You sit quietly till you get a text from Doyoung asking you to get your ass over there quickly with several exclamation marks. You smile to yourself. Joohyun might have had a sour effect on him.

You arrive back at the venue, trying to tear your eyes away from anything that might want to make you fix it. You avoid Jaehyun’s eyes even more so, like you’ll jinx something right before it’s showtime.

The buzzing reaches a peak before everything is drowned out.

The show finally starts. And it’s over. Twenty-two minutes, this time.

That’s the way it goes. You hold your breath till you’re sure it’s safe to let go, blind to everything that goes on in between. Sometimes it’s underwhelming, sometimes you can’t give a fuck when you love doing this anyway.

You breathe a sigh of joy when everyone gathers backstage, Johnny making all the models pose together for one giant group photo. It’s like a ritual for him, always finding time for a backstage picture with the models goofing off.

Jaehyun looks at you instead of the camera, a nervous shiver running through you. His gaze is not something of inconsequence, eyes piercing into you with words hanging in the air that you don’t care enough about. You think he sends you a smile, cockier than you’d like. Despite your efforts, you have to look away.

Now, what should your dear Fall collection look like? You exit by yourself, relief humming through your veins when you think of getting back to your apartment, papers to be sketched on in your hands, soft fabric to be sewn on your table. Maybe they’ll display your works in the front rows of the stores, maybe you’ll even have displays outside of Seoul. You’re not a student anymore and your job has taken you enough places.

Even so, Paris and Milan sneak into your dreams often. You used to dream of them so much that it was hard to consider them reality—finding yourself in those streets, in between all those beautiful picture-book monuments.

You prefer Seoul, you decide after conscious thinking. You don’t have to worry about the world outside.

Afterparties are not your thing.

You somehow still find yourself in them, hoping to catch a drunk video of Doyoung for blackmail or make eye contact with an attractive stranger only to stop at exchanging numbers because you never find the time.

It’s a social event. You’re supposed to be doing social things. It’s exhausting.

The last person you expect to bump into is Jaehyun, drinks in hand as he looks down at you with a greeting of surprise on his tongue. He’s wearing a simple dark Oxford button-down, two buttons at his chest undone, and tucked neatly into his pants. His hair looks untouched since afternoon, parted in messy waves, minus the pearls. The music changes to something with slower beats as you stare at each other for a few moments.

“What are you doing here?” You raise an eyebrow. There are other afterparties he could be attending. Big ones.

Jaehyun tilts his head, cracking his neck before smiling. “Charming, as always. I’m here because I want to be here, obviously. So does everyone, I’m sure.”

“Fucking narcissist,” you mutter to yourself. You think Jaehyun might have heard you because you get a dirty look thrown your way, masked with the signature apathy across his relaxed lips.

“That’s a little rich from you,” he mumbles.

The muscle by his mouth twitches but he doesn’t say anything more. This is probably the most emotion he shows, you think. Wouldn’t his lovestruck magazines relish seeing him riled up like this? They’d still find a way to fall in love with him.

You could have, too.

No way. You tell yourself that’s ridiculous.

You’re aware he’s booked for at least three other shows this week. It’s a miracle he agreed to yours, considering your mutual distaste for each other. You suppose it had more to do with his agency than himself but it wasn’t like you were the keener one. Jung Yoonoh is the face professionals look for and your company loves the publicity, although you keep telling yourself your designs would still shine without him.

Jaehyun excuses himself before you can get on with any unpleasant conversation you might have. At least you have something in common—that is, trying to avoid each other as much as possible.

A few minutes (and uncomfortably snaking through swarms of bodies) later, you find Doyoung, unfortunately sober and intending to remain so, people congratulating him with claps on the back for securing the position of PR Head. You think it was supposed to be a secret, but someone higher in the ladder must have spilled early. Joohyun never attends these, and honestly, good for her.

Afterparties are not your thing.

You shouldn’t have taken those shots but you’re on the dance floor now anyway—what more could happen? It’s easier when you’re not paranoid about all the eyes on you, dancing against a stranger with a lion tattooed against his neck. Maybe you’ll go home with him, maybe you’ll leave at the first signs of attraction. Romance isn’t quite on your to-do list, but an occasional intoxication with the skin works just fine. You could live like this for a few moments.

Your back runs into someone else’s rather forcefully and you turn around, apology bubbled up to your tongue already, mixing with the alcohol.

“Oh look.” You roll your eyes. “It’s the prince of high fashion. What can I get you today, sire?”

Jaehyun drives his tongue over his lips, quite definitely over your antics. Soft breaths leave his mouth in a rhythm irrelevant to this box of laughter and blaring music called a party. You love how he never knows how to respond—what new words will he choose to keep false dignity? If you think about it, he’s the embodiment of why you always thought everything was so out of your reach—big names, exclusive parties, not for kids like you. They were never for fashion students too honest to know their own worth.

“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you,” he says, just loud enough for you to hear.

You scoff, a pang of annoyance sizzling through you. “Jealous? Of who? You?”

You sneer at the last part, Jaehyun’s frown deepening. Some days you just like to think you’ve won. A few moments pass between you two, the sound of pop music filling in the gaps.

Jaehyun presses closer to you, your chests almost touching as your breath hitches in your throat.

“Do you know what makes success?” he says, head dipping lower to look you in the eye. The smell of alcohol disturbs you for a second before your heartbeat gets loud enough to drown it. You try to not focus on how his mouth is so near yours—and perhaps if you were drunk enough, you might commit a mistake against the very core of your being, something you’d been dangerously close to once.

You stay quiet, the pulsing in your ears too loud in the shallow distance between the two of you. You swear it’s always the two of you pressed up like this once you’re drunk enough, the dislike growing stronger and stronger with every breath exchanged. You’ve intertwined each other into a strange garden of contempt, easy to forget when you're facing him. Jung Yoonoh has the prettiest face in the industry, and the only one you can’t bear seeing.

“It’s confidence,” he answers, as slow and steady as ever. “And there’s a thin line between confidence and arrogance I intend to keep. I’m not so sure about you.”

The rest of the night passes without conflict and you retire early, Jaehyun’s breath still hot against your face. Only when you collapse on your bed do you get an urge to shout, yell, anything that doesn’t make you call him up and scream at him. You have your precious dignity too, something he seems to look past. The effect he had on your breathing, the crawling over your skin—God, you hate him. You’re too stubborn to not continue doing it.

“What’s this?” you ask, your eyes darting in between the director of design and Lee Taeyong.

To say you were surprised to see him would be an understatement. You note the simple dark rimmed glasses in contrast with his light dyed hair, the mellow blue of his cashmere sweater sporting his own label’s logo—Lee Taeyong is a household name. You feel yourself shrink the tiniest bit.

This industry’s all about names, you think miserably. You meet people and you remember the ones who can get you ahead. It’s tiring.

Taeyong started his career even earlier than you did, and before he had changed his major to fashion. He’s a little older than you, though he doesn’t look it and he had begun with working exclusively on jackets. Several rejected designs later, he had popped up as one of the designers to look out for in Seoul Fashion Week. Now he has his own global label slowly turning brand, several worldwide stores and everything dreamers in the same place as you look up to. You think you’re fine here, you tell yourself despite that.

The director smiles at you, her hand gesturing rapidly at you to come forward.

“You’re going to be so happy,” she says, signalling Taeyong to continue.

“Uh, hi,” he greets.

A little awkward for a world-class designer, you think.

“I’m Lee Taeyong. You might have heard of me—”

“I know who you are,” you interrupt, ignoring the disapproving look of the director.

“Oh, that’s good!” He smiles. “I’ve seen your work—I’ve been following your work for a few years now…and, well, I’d love for you to work under my label—in a collaboration of sorts. You’ll have full creative freedom, of course! I’m just there more or less for supervision, really…”

You think you feel your heart stop for a few moments, Taeyong’s sudden stream of information fading out. The pinnacle of your career, you believe, had been Paris Fashion Week four years ago and you’d been dreaming of it ever since. This is a business contract, you’re sure, and you don’t know if you have a real choice but maybe you could take that step forward you’ve always wanted to.

“Isn’t that great, (name)?” The director interjects. “You get to work under the Lee Taeyong label. And…surprise! You’ll have your work presented at New York Fashion Week in September. They’ll hit the stores a week later.”

You freeze.

“New York?” you manage to squeak.

“Yep!” Her voice a notch away from annoying. She’s not the first person you’ve met who sounds so goddamn manufactured. “Pack your bags, darling. You’re flying next weekend.”

You must be looking like a deer caught in the headlights because Taeyong opens his mouth to say something, alarmed. You speak before he does.

“Okay,” you say, more to yourself than them. It should be a good thing. It’s supposed to be a good thing. Even so, you feel the anxiety in your ribcage threatening to overgrow into thorns.

“I’ll- I’ll do it,” you clarify. Looking from your manager’s bright yet stern face to the hopeful smile on Taeyong, you don’t think you have much of a choice.

New York, huh. How long has it been? You shudder at the memories, your focus a little off for the rest of the day.

Joohyun visits you a day before you leave. She places the box of chocolates on the coffee table, that Doyoung apparently sent for you.

“You know, I’m really happy you’re getting this chance,” Joohyun says, crouching down beside where you’re splayed, trying to count the travel essentials and everything else on your messy checklist.

“He gets promoted and now he can’t even come visit me, huh?” you say, shifting to grab the box and tear off the clear wrap.

Joohyun laughs. “He’s certainly enjoying his duties. I can’t wait to boss him around again after I leave.”

Your shoulders hunch, a sigh leaving your lips. “Great. You’re leaving. Doyoung’s too busy to annoy. And now I’m a part of this godforsaken project for almost six months.”

Joohyun softens a bit, running her hand through your hair. “I heard you accepted it. All by yourself. You’ll do just fine, don’t worry.”

You feel yourself turn pink, a feeling of warmth you’ve been missing for a week. It’s cozy in your apartment, always the right temperature with a tinge of happy memories. You wish you could find comfort in people as easily as others do. Everything happened so fast, you can barely remember the conversation you had with Lee Taeyong. A few moments pass, Joohyun and you picking out chocolates before you can rummage through your suitcase again.

“I hate New York, Joohyun. Just what else can you throw into the mix to make me hate it even more?”

She freezes for a fraction of a moment, pressing her lips together before clearing her throat. “Oh. Uh. I probably shouldn’t tell you what I was about to tell you then.”

You turn your head to her, eyes narrowing. “What?”

She shrugs, eyes not meeting yours. “You know. New York. Fashion capital of the world. Lots of things to love.”

“What are you not telling me, Joohyun?”

She sighs, defeated. “A certain someone might be on the same flight as you. I was about to give you his number in case you needed help.”

You pause to think, curling your lips. “It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

You groan, dropping your head back and yelping when it hits the coffee table. Joohyun moves to rub your head and ease the pain as you let out a stream of complaints.

“You really thought I’d call him for help?” you yell. “Him? Of all people?”

“I think you’d rather have a known face there. Besides, he’s a good kid,” she reasons, looking you in the eye. “And stop yelling.”

You quieten a bit at her glare, gulping. She adds the number to your contacts, saving it with a professional ‘Jung Yoonoh’ before she helps you clean up, advising you on how to manage your finances abroad. You know she’s trying to ease you, but how could she—after dropping this awful news on you like it shouldn’t matter at all? She doesn’t even know what happened—almost happened in Paris, or the fact that your honeyed feelings had turned bitter so easily. She’s worked with him before, you know this, when he was a much younger model and she trusts him more than you ever could.

But maybe, just maybe she can’t see what you see—after all, she’s also part of the elite, crème de la crème of this industry, more so in this country. It’s frightening, and so vague what goes on up there, at the top of the chain; and whatever you have—it might never be enough.

You’re you. Sometimes, that isn’t enough.

You jump at the water rushing from the shower, too cold for skin and scramble to twist the knob the other way. This time, the water’s too hot and you yelp, shutting it off altogether.

You press your hand against the shower glass, breathing heavy. You’re trying—you’ve been desperately trying ever since you landed a week ago. Change is not something you can take lightly. You miss the dim lights of your apartment in Seoul that Joohyun always warned would get you some brand new prescription glasses. You miss walking down the streets to your favourite convenience store at three in the morning to get honey butter chips. You miss picking fights with Doyoung over which detail to scrutinise during your project discussions. This project seems to have torn apart several things that belonged to you.

You can’t seem to get your head into it either—even spacing out during the meeting you had with Lee Taeyong among several other things. You can’t remember a single design detail he’d specified or what the theme was even supposed to be—a bunch of bright foggy lights replacing whatever fuzz was growing in your head. A twenty-something-year-old shouldn’t be letting homesickness affect them like this.

You finish the rest of your shower with a heavy heart and a clouded head.

Taeyong booking a luxury suite for you was a bit…much. Not that you’re complaining, but it gives more fuel to the profound sense of emptiness you keep drawing. There’s no intimacy to this place, no love. It’s a little hard to create things without love, and comfort.

Still, you grit your teeth and get dressed into something more comfortable for the night. If not today, then tomorrow. Something will have to give, even if it costs you—whatever the hell your parents keep telling you when you’re going through problems. What if you don’t want to be cost things? Compromise isn’t as delicate as it sounds. You try to comfort yourself, rocking yourself on the much too large couch, hugging a pillow close and trying to think of things that don’t immediately make you want to throw up.

The memories of your first visit are a little less than pleasant. You think you cried after the entire ordeal because you thought you did a bad job of talking, socializing, the most ordinary things. There are some people who are good at wearing masks—good at making copper look like gold, good at shining under dim lights, and good at using words that don’t have much meaning to their existence other than being pretty.

You were not one of them.

The intense need for everything to be perfect was still there, even when you couldn’t possibly have achieved it. You wanted to make things and show them to the world—what was so wrong with that? Why did being there make you feel like you could never even touch your dreams? You were so out of place, feeling completely out of touch with yourself. There were people from the top there, established and famous. It felt out of your grasp. You felt fake.

The city lights twinkle with life but there’s no sound, the windows shut tight. The ambience of the room is kept to a caramel minimum—the best you can do to honour your sweet little home back in Seoul.

The hatred for everything pretentious was born with your first step into this place, into the game that the big boys play. It showed in your designs, your choice of fabric, your distaste for certain people. You wanted reality—you wanted a taste of life in your everyday clothes. You wanted that flavour you feel on your tongue in a room full of strangers or the one on a quiet night by yourself at your apartment rooftop. You didn’t want dignified fur coat ensembles, you wanted the naive chaos you feel every day and you wanted to make it look good. It’s driving you insane just how much you feel like you’re losing now.

You take out your phone after what seems a few minutes of contemplation.

Jung Yoonoh. Your finger hovers over the call button. What would he say if his night is interrupted by your voice?

You’d met at the airport after landing, though you were only two seats away in the plane. You’d made no error in acknowledging his presence, browsing through the inflight magazine half-heartedly. Truth be told, sometimes you couldn’t really seem to get over him. Sometimes the thought of him made you so pissed, you had no idea what to think of it.

“Welcome to New York,” he had said shortly after you’d exited, a giant crowd of people greeting out-goers, holding up placards with names of people, in numbers you’re unaccustomed to. Or, used to be accustomed to.

You hadn’t talked since—and really, you weren’t expecting to.

You press your home button, any lingering thoughts of him vanishing at the force with which you tell yourself it’s not worth it. How is Jung Yoonoh better than anyone else you know here? He might have been living in New York for quite a few years now, and he’s probably the only one you’d feel comfortable enough to swear at—that doesn’t mean you’d actually ask for help. That doesn’t mean he’d actually help. Joohyun must have had her hopes far too high to have convinced you for even a moment.

The couch feels colder all of a sudden, and you turn down the air conditioner. This place will never adjust to you, and your stubborn little self won’t either.

You think of Jaehyun from the afterparty, loose shirt and knowing eyes, and you wonder if he feels just the same frustrated agony, if not more. You think of his parted lips and breathing words close enough to be provocative, discomfort growing at the base of your stomach. Who does he think he is? He might have the airs and dignity of someone way up in the hierarchy of society but you know what people can be like. You know envy, you know malice, and you know lies. He has to fit in there somewhere—and perhaps you would have hated him less if he did.

Even if you’d scoffed at the idea of jealousy, that might very well be the closest to what you feel, what you keep hidden in the darkest corners of your locked chest. When you first met at that star-spangled dinner, you’d felt what it’s like to watch a fireworks show or a big musical opening; but the fireworks are being blocked by skyscrapers and you’re only the helping staff at the theatre, watching from a balcony at the very back. Jaehyun was impressive with barely any words. It annoyed you so much and somehow, the only solution you arrived at was the tremendous need to understand him, pick him apart and see what made him.

No. That’s wrong. You were annoyed because you still wanted to kiss him after he’d pushed you away, his dislike steaming clear. It strikes you as gently as lightning that the only reason someone would have to hate Jaehyun is being attracted so violently to him. God, you hate making a fool out of yourself.

You pass the night in quiet contemplation, promising yourself a better tomorrow. After all, no one else is going to do it.

You walk with your chin up as if you don’t feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. You picked out your black Harrington jacket to look at least a little more professional, but you might have miscalculated the size and the material in the equation because you look completely and utterly ridiculous in it. No one would look at you and think you even work in fashion, much less be competent in that line.

(To be fair, you wear the same beige sweater and black corduroy pants to work and if your coworkers choose to judge you, you wouldn’t blame them.)

It’s only been a month and somehow, it translates to forever to you. You think you’re adjusting better now, and you pat yourself on the back for it. It’s not raining today at the mercy of the skies, a tidal wave of sunlight splashing through the buildings every time you take a turn. The city doesn’t scare you all that much anymore. It’s a good day, for once.

You lean your head against the car window, eyes trailing up and down the reflective blue of each skyscraper. You can barely see any clouds, and the sky’s endlessly the same, comforting blue. Just like back home, you think for a moment. Your eyes move back to the sidewalk, people passing by—mothers with their babies in strollers, kids clutching the strap of their school bags as they run, men and women in all levels of professional clothing. No one stops in this city. Except the fucking traffic apparently.

You sigh, glancing at your watch. Only moments ago, you were moving and yet again, you’ve stopped. The cycle keeps repeating and you’re trying to keep patience focusing on things around you that you can appreciate.

Maybe you jinxed it when you said it was a good day.

You reach Taeyong’s studio just in time (not that you’d get yelled at or anything, he’s too nice of a guy). Your eyes fixate on the numbers that light up on the elevator one by one till it finally reaches the first floor.

You walk right into someone’s chest, an apology tumbling out of your lips as you bow out of habit.

“(name)?”

You look up to find Jaehyun in the elevator of Taeyong’s building, a casual white shirt clinging to his frame that’s tucked into his jeans to look somewhat formal. A pink overshirt hangs at his forearm and from the windswept styling of hair and his perfected dark locks, you’ll assume he’s here for a shoot—even without it, he looks like something from a teen magazine, someone people would see and instantly daydream of. Best known for high fashion, Jung Yoonoh is still a spectacle in casualwear.

“I can’t believe I have to see your face here too,” you mutter, getting into the elevator. You’ve had your share of moments with him.

“Good to see you too,” he says, bemused.

You make a sound of acknowledgment, taking out your phone to turn the damn notifications off so you don’t feel it vibrate in your pocket every few minutes. You feel eyes on you for a moment and snap your head to the side.

Jaehyun has his eyes focused on the door, quiet breathing fresh against his lips and you hesitate before concluding you might have been mistaken in your perception.

“You’re here for a shoot?” you ask, curious about his relationship with Taeyong.

“What else can I be here for?” He says nonchalantly.

“Sarcastic. Very nice.”

“It’s a little weird, you trying to make conversation with me. You’re usually raving about me too much to actually talk to me.” He smiles, the dimples provoking and eyes the familiar beguiling brown.

“I’m not trying to make conversation,” you hiss, crossing your arms. “I’m sorry, I forgot you’re only a person in front of cameras.”

Jaehyun takes a sharp breath before turning to you, a not-so-happy look on his face despite the calmness over his features. You’ve seen it enough times.

“How long are you going to keep up the pretentious this and pretentious that before you face it, really?” He looks at you with tight lips, poisonous implications in his question. “Why you love to get up in my case all the time?”

The words take time to settle in. You shake your head when you realize, a sardonic laugh leaving your lips. Of course he’d think that.

“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re so full of yourself. You think I’m interested in you? Don’t let what happened years ago get to your head.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, what did you mean then? Pray tell.”

“First of all, stop cutting me off,” he says, taking a step towards you. A certain feeling of uneasiness runs through you when you detect annoyance in his quiet statement.

“Secondly,” he says, taking a another step forward just as your back hits the wall of the elevator, “Stop treating me like I’m the bane of your existence. I have nothing to do with you.”

He’s right, of course, but the words sting where they hit. Asshole, you think. He has no business telling you what to do and what not to do. But in this moment, you can’t fish for the correct words—you don’t have the strength to when you’re so close to each other like this, the scent of his cologne syrupy and sickening. His tall stature is intimidating, with his straight shoulders and proud jawline.

The elevator dings at the seventh floor, Jaehyun stepping away from you without a glance or care, striding out just as smoothly as on a runway.

You take a moment to breathe, unsaid words burning holes into your tongue. You wish you could’ve said something better, anything that didn’t make you feel so pathetic. Maybe you should’ve told him to stick his words up his ass, sounding vulgar being the least of your worries. You wait patiently to reach the last floor, each ding souring your mood little by little.

You are so glad you didn’t call him that night. To think he’d ever help you knowing it’s mutual, the whole hating each other’s guts. You just can’t believe the audacity of him—to accuse you of, what, romantic feelings? In an industry where you can’t tell apart gold from copper? Where all the people warming up to you are fair weather friends and competitors? He must have let all that attention get to his head. Runway faces aren’t as easy to fall in love with as he thinks.

“(name)! Come quick!”

Taeyong’s voice urges as soon as you enter and you settle your bag down, rushing to him. His smile drops when he sees your seething figure place your bag on the desk with a loud thud. You turn to him, without a hint of sweetened formality and ask him the day’s schedule.

Taeyong gulps before responding, undoubtedly afraid of your lips, a twitch away from a scowl, but he explains nicely nonetheless.

“Can you do a rerun of these designs for me?” he says, arranging the papers on the desk. That’s how he says these need improvement. No wonder the interns love him.

Taeyong’s in his usual attire, still too chic for you but strangely comfortable to look at. You nod, immediately scrutinising them, your (almost pointless) years of training trying to give you hints as to where you went wrong. You’re not really expecting to find big flaws or anything—just details you can enhance. You’ve learned enough about Taeyong in a month and it’s that his sense of style encompasses comfort, even in the most abstract of concepts. You respect him for that. It doesn’t change the fact that you think it’s a little overdone maybe.

Taeyong laughs, breaking you out of your daze. You raise an eyebrow.

“Is- Is something wrong?” You look at him, perplexed.

“It’s just that- It’s just you remind me a lot of the fashion students.” He smiles at you.

Your shoulders droop. Amateur. New. Unprofessional.

“Oh.”

Taeyong rephrases himself quickly, waving his hands about. “I don’t mean it as a bad thing! It just means you still…love doing it.”

It sticks with you longer than you’d expect, as you work throughout the day. You think Taeyong is too nice to criticize you properly but he eventually gets the point across—stick to the theme, written in Taeyong’s dainty handwriting and pinned to the softboard.

Secrets.

What an atrocious concept. Firstly, it makes no sense apart from sounding like a fucking lingerie collection. Secondly, when you went over Taeyong’s designs with the layers and patches, you supposed he wanted to focus on the inside of things because everything he’d drawn was inside out. Thirdly, when you heard him explain it, you were a little taken aback to hear it was going to be all about you, us. The designers, the models, the photographers, the magazine editors—there are millions and millions of people working to make sketches come to life, for a few items of clothing in someone’s closet. It feels nice to hear that from him. You promise you’re going to perfect it.

And perfection is your dear old friend.

It’s what you always strive for, but end up with something else that’s a little less beautiful. You take slow breaths, removing and adding details (after all, art is in the details). But perfection can easily grow tiresome. It makes you increasingly frustrated and you don’t think you have the heart to tell Taeyong everything in his studio stresses you out.

“So, you’re working with Jaehyun?” you ask, trying to look less antsy.

Taeyong blanks out for a moment before responding. “Yes. Why? Is he- Is he making you uncomfortable?”

Uncomfortable wouldn’t even begin to explain what he makes you feel.

“No,” you deny. “Just curious.”

Taeyong smiles. “We usually work on summer shoots together. It’s like tradition.”

“That’s…nice,” you say, trying to reciprocate his smile.

“Oh, but we’re having terrible weather so the shoots keep going longer than planned. That’s why I’m having to compromise planning time with you. Sorry about that.”

You try to keep your posture despite the mild annoyance brewing at the back of your head. Great. Now you have to see Jaehyun’s unbelievably annoying face every time you walk in. Maybe if you plead enough, you’d get permission to leave early and not want to throw some insults at him.

You decide to walk, despite Taeyong insisting his driver help you get home. He doesn’t act like it but he’s a busy man, with side projects and interviews coming up so often you lose count. It’s no wonder he had to, and you hate using this word, hire someone for the label’s next venture. You think articles like Lee Taeyong loses touch and hires designers instead of doing his job would make him upset but he seems to genuinely not let it bother him. It’s about ideas to him. His label, almost large enough to be a brand, is for ideas; what a pretty thing to base your business around. While you thought you were a big shot back in South Korea, you’re almost nothing more than Lee Taeyong’s co-designer—assistant here.

You feel drops of what you felt years ago trickling down your throat. Overshadowed. Powerless. Imposter. Something about New York makes you want to pull all your hair out. You wish you hadn’t been here in the first place, maybe then this would seem more of a fun trip than memories weighing you down. But then if you hadn’t been here, you might not have even started.

You hug yourself at the sudden downpour, clouds kind enough for it to be nothing more than showers but you’re soaked anyway. Kind, but still a little cruel. Running under the eaves of a store, you curse yourself for not bringing an umbrella the only day you needed it. You stand there for a while, just breathing.

Real life is never like movies, is it? Cameras lie. Pretty faces lie. Sometimes you end up stuck in New York rains without an umbrella or a friend to call or a lover to protect you. You end up getting an Uber, taking awfully long to arrive due to the traffic the rain had ensued and try your best to ignore the disgruntled driver mumbling about you wetting his seats.

You still don’t know how the goddamn shower works.

You manage to complete without either scorching your skin off or freezing it to Greenland and back—a feat much more successful than whatever you had going on for today. You slip into the absurdly soft mattress, pillows and covers swallowing you into a state of sleep.

You start the day almost pouring coffee onto Jaehyun’s spotless white shirt. And you might have were it not for immense self-restraint, and the fact that Taeyong’s eyes were trained on the two of you.

“So…are you two…a thing or something?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“No,” Jaehyun responds calmly while you sputter it out.

Taeyong apologizes, a laugh following. “You seem to have worked together before. Jaehyun, you never told me that.”

“I…I thought you knew,” he answers, leaning back against the tabletop.

“Ah, well,” Taeyong shrugs. “Thanks for helping me out with this, (name). Maybe- maybe we can draw some inspiration for the collection from outdoors.”

“Of course,” you say as you smile wide, trying hard not to break the coffee mug in your hand.

If you’re being honest, you had a gut feeling you’d be asked to help with Taeyong’s (apparently) infamous summer shoot. He walks into his studio every morning with hair in a disarray, talking to more people than he might enjoy and the entirety of New York weather against him. There’s only so much time a man can have and under pressure, he’s going to have to choose. It’s easy to feel sorry for someone like him.

This should be the stylist’s job. Jaehyun stands with his chin up as you adjust the fitting, smoothing out creases and making sure the cerulean shirt is pinned right, satin feeling cool and nice under your fingers. Sleeveless is back in trend this summer, and so are low-cuts.

“Careful there,” he says when you hand brushes a little lower, just below the full-grain leather belt.

You hope your face isn’t steaming from the rush of heat but you manage to limit your emotions to a sound of discomfort, remembering the horrendous accusation he’d thrown at you. “I don’t care about your dick, twit.”

Jaehyun laughs, bending a little to whisper. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You look like you’re having a wonderful time making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re just so easy to work up.”

His dimples are getting on your nerves. You reach up to button his collar, perhaps a little too harsh because he chokes, an uncharacteristic sound leaving his mouth as he winces. You suppress a smile, glad you managed to do something about the look on his face.

The sunlight over this park feels like Christmas come early, with the way Taeyong is flitting from model to model and stylist to stylist with the intensity of a five year old after an ice-cream truck.

“Is he- Is he usually like this?” you ask, eyes on the makeup artist getting directions from Taeyong.

“I just assumed all of you are this way,” Jaehyun, responds looking at the same sight.

You roll your eyes. “We’re not all crazy.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” you correct yourself, watching Taeyong almost trip over someone’s bag in order to greet the magazine’s style director.

Jaehyun chuckles, eyes meeting yours for a moment before the two of you go about your own business.

You like magazine shoots for the most part. You never find a glass of water anywhere, but some intern or the other will definitely be there to fetch you Starbucks. There’s at least three people fussing over each model and at least two exasperated photographers trying very hard to snap clean shots. The stylist and designer look as though they might explode any minute, although the relief on their faces after it’s all over is something worth looking at. The skies are so bright and blue, you think, for a cosmopolis. The trees and shrubs lining the park are in a state of tranquility compared to the chaos it encircles.

Magazines might not be as important in an age of social media advertisement, almost part of nostalgia now—but maybe some of you are not yet willing to deny kids the thrill of reading a magazine under their blankets in the middle of the night. It often gave hope to little boys playing dress up and little girls sewing their own clothes.

You’d forgotten just how exhausting shooting with magazines is. The models must be having it worse but their masks don’t come off easy. If you had ever underestimated their job difficulty, it comes back to throttle you at full speed every time you’re at a shoot.

Looking good in front of a camera is pretty damn hard.

They don’t even get to keep the clothes, unless some asshole of a designer decides to pay them in apparel instead of actual money. Most models leave New York in debt. Men are paid even less than women. You’re surprised Jaehyun is as celebrated as he is—or the fact that he was clever enough of a businessman in launching his own high fashion-themed restaurant. You’ve heard he barely visits it, like a careless afterthought. But you’re not one to get carried away by sketchy articles on the internet. All you’ve needed are more reasons to hate him.

You sip the iced coffee, its effect pretty much worn out during humid afternoons. It’s time for a break, but no one’s willing to break momentum. You find yourself feeling a little awkward, as nothing more than a guest with creative advice, and so you sit under the comforting cool of the giant green umbrella at one of the tables. You could sink into your chair were it not so damn uncomfortable.

Jaehyun takes a seat right beside you to your surprise, offering you a box of diced mango before you fervently decline. You still think he’s an asshole. It doesn’t make any sense—why accuse you of unsaid affections and then flirt with you like he never said it? It’s not like you’re even friends, how ridiculous. There are quite a few jerks you’ve met in your life, but Jung Yoonoh really takes the cake.

“What?” you snap when his gaze gets on your nerves.

“I didn’t say anything.” He raises his hands defensively, eyes still on yours. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I enjoy the air conditioned suite Taeyong booked me more than this, yes.” You sigh, leaning back. “I don’t really have anything to do.”

“I’m assuming he booked you the luxury suite on the fifteenth floor,” he says, chuckling.

You furrow your eyebrows. It’s not impossible that Jaehyun knows Taeyong’s favorite suite to book for guests.

“The view’s pretty nice from there, right? Oh, and you must be enjoying the silence.”

“I actually like the outside sounds,” you defend. “It’s calming.”

“Not when you’re on the third floor,” he says, shoving a piece of mango into his mouth with a fork. “All you hear is middle aged men screaming.”

You rest your elbow on the table, placing your chin against your palm. The shade is separated from sunlight by a thin line against his chest, pale blue satin glimmering where the sun meets it. Jaehyun’s eyes shine a darker hue of honey under the shade, moving to the box in his hands occasionally before trailing back to the background noise again. Taeyong really does love pretty fits, but this might just be one of the most gorgeous pieces you’ve seen this summer (and you’ve already been through all the ready-to-wear lookbooks you possibly could). A thought passes you in a breeze, that maybe it's the model making it seem that way.

“You’re talkative today,” you note quietly, the sun harsher on your cheeks than before.

Jaehyun shrugs, hurrying to finish all the pieces. He suddenly pulls a face, one you don’t see very often in high fashion websites and Instagram pages. It’s almost cute.

“Sour.”

You find yourself laughing, a gentle influx of peace filling the inside your chest. You quickly recover, looking back up to see Jaehyun simply staring at you, breathing. He looks caught off-guard, no camera to warn him. You straighten, your cheeks flushing with heat.

“Is- Is something wrong?”

He immediately shakes his head, more to himself than you. There’s a pause before the two of you are happily distracted. The style director appears to be gesturing at him from the other side and Jaehyun responds with a curt wave.

“You’re doing two different concepts today?”

“Three, actually.”

You raise your eyebrows. Well, they’re definitely taking advantage of the good weather. They could just photoshop it, in your opinion, but authenticity is everything when it comes to magazines nowadays.

“Well, don’t let me hold you back,” you say, your tone dismissive. “Go get changed into whatever pretty shirt Taeyong has up next in his collection.”

“The next shoot doesn’t have a shirt,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirked upward.

You almost choke on your coffee, blaming the heat for your weak state of mind. You’re just having one of those strange days—just that, nothing else.

You finish the rest of the coffee, cup resting in your hand till you find the energy to get up and find a trash can.

Jaehyun was right. This time the shoot’s a little too wet and a little too much skin for you to enjoy. The only thing added to Jaehyun above the waist are a dainty red scarf knotted over his neck and a small, flat hoop earring on his left ear. The velvet fingerless gloves, although you’re not very fond of them, complete a rather rugged yet soft look. You didn’t expect Taeyong to come up with something like that.

Jaehyun’s well-developed physique, while you’ve seen it in other shoots and online articles, is completely different when you’re a few feet away from it. The dark blue cargo pants, silken, are a signature style of Taeyong but the details don’t distract you easily enough. Funny, this is the first time you’re feeling somewhat flustered in a place full of half-naked models.

You suddenly think of reds and oranges, lilac shrubs and a hint of Burberry men’s perfume. In a way, it reminds you of the strums of the guitar your roommate used to play while you stayed up late, coming up with concepts. Cherishing, soothing—and special, just enough. The corner of your lips twitch and you take out your pocket sketchbook. It’s never too late to add a design to the collection, right? After all, you have secrets too. Maybe Taeyong was right about the outdoors for inspiration.

Something sets into motion, subtle but sharp.

The next time you walk into Taeyong’s studio, you feel the sun on your face better. Everything seems to be fitting into place, as you smooth through designs at a pace your student self would be jealous of. When Taeyong praises your work, you feel a rush of pride smearing the inside of your chest and you finally feel like everything’s not falling apart. It feels good. It feels like you’re someone.

The days go by in what seems like barely seconds—you know what they say about New York minutes. The mustard cloth draped over your desk to the cottage blue of your curtains, the colours around you change as quickly as the wind. Sometimes they’re abstract—and other times, well, they have more to do with a stranger’s eyes, or the swirls within a coffee cup. It’s the way in which transition occurs around you, that you often forget it moves something within you too.

You’ve put together some samples with Taeyong, most of them by yourself; the process of making is ever comforting, fabric even more so. You’ve sent the revised designs for production, feeling giddy about whatever is to come like it’s something new. (It shouldn’t be.)

You fucking hate how different this is. Seoul is nothing compared to New York. The anxiety is nearly ten times worse, the streets are far more attractive when it comes to inspiration and the figure of Jung Yoonoh is no longer as easy to ignore.

Even after the summer shoot’s over, Jaehyun often comes by to hang out at the studio, dressed in what you would call the simplest fucking thing you’d ever seen and still managing to look just as gorgeous. He blends in well with university students, often wearing the ugliest baseball cap you’ve ever seen, and the look of his face feels much, much worse than ever before. It’s at ease, smug even, but never failing to smile at you when you’re trying to focus. You don’t care how good of friends Taeyong and Jaehyun are—you want to tell him to leave.

But you just can’t bring yourself to. It’s not that you don’t trust yourself, you certainly do, but whatever New York has done to you, includes making you feel a different way about him. Sometimes you find yourself pressing your legs together harshly, stiffening at any proximity with him and a pool of warmth at the base of your stomach you’d rather not feel.

It’s embarrassing to even think about it—the fact that he makes you feel that way, so hot and bothered like it’s your first time. You blame your lack of going out these few months because after all, anyone could fall in love with runway faces. It doesn’t have to mean it’s him you want. You carry on doing what you’ve been doing for the most part of your career, your best to avoid him. There are more pressing matters, and your head might just implode if you keep on worrying about things (a man, of all) you need not.

Time passes even faster when all your thoughts revolve around the same thing.

One month. D-30. Whatever the hell you call time before the end of the world.

Your palms sweat a whole lot easier here. It’s a little weird, considering you don’t find much difference in humidity between Seoul and New York. Your heart often catches up in your throat too. Not a great feeling, your heart choking the breath out of you, but you’re used to it. You cope and you learn, that’s what it means to be human.

You pull your hand down before it reaches your teeth. The day ended in a meeting with Taeyong’s production team—everything’s running smoothly so you need not worry, he said.

Why are those the words that make you worry the most?

You check the time on your phone. 23:05 and a whole month to go. You better get some sleep for all the meetings you have scheduled tomorrow. You close your eyes and for a while, everything falls quiet.

You dream of New York Fashion Week. People come here to feel included. Everyone wants to be a part of something they don’t understand.

The models walk down the runway in increasingly uncomfortable outfits. You didn’t design any of them. Where are the ones you worked on? You can’t move from your seat, or turn your head from the runway, anything at all. Something’s wrong, everything’s wrong. You don’t belong here. Thunder strikes outside the venue and you wake up with a gasp caught in your throat, and the clock on the bedside table flashing 2:14.

You’ve had enough. You swear you’ve had enough.

You get up out of bed, pacing the giant bedroom, the empty spaces making you feel more and more miserable. The city twinkles with innumerous stars beyond your window, curtains half drawn so they can comfort you whenever you need—but these lights don’t shine for you, or anyone else. They shine for themselves. That’s what it means to be in New York again.

What time is it in Seoul? Could you call your mother? Joohyun? Everyone must be busy right now—you don’t know what to do. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt so helpless. There’s a reason you’ve been avoiding New York for this long and now it’s come crashing down on you.

This was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.

You look down at your phone, the light hurting your eyes despite being set to the lowest brightness. You think a little, and then some more. There’s no one else you can call. Even if he’s busy charming all the other employees whenever you see him, even if half the world is in love with him, there’s no one else you can call. This time you don’t stop yourself.

You tap the call button beside the Jung Yoonoh saved neatly. Tapping your foot against the floor nervously, your mind goes blank for a few seconds or so. He answers when you’re just about to hang up, breath hitching in your throat at the sound of his voice.

“Hello? Hello? If this is a reporter—”

“It’s me, Jaehyun.”

The line goes quiet for a moment and your voice overlaps his before he can begin.

“I- I didn’t mean to call so late. Sorry…uh.”

You scrunch up your face at your own voice. This is not getting you anywhere.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice lower.

You fall silent, unable to answer without breaking down into tears. You did not call Jung Yoonoh for that.

“Yeah,” you choke out. “Fine. Completely fine. I just…”

You trail off, trying to get yourself to breathe.

“I’ll send you an address. Be there in an hour.”

You blink back tears, confusion adding to the burning pile of worries inside your head.

“What?”

“Address. I’ll text you. Be there. One hour.”

“I’m not stupid, Jaehyun,” you snap, strength refilling your voice. “Why?”

“I’m not answering questions, just be there.”

With that, the line goes flat and an embarrassing amount of ‘hello’s get you to realize that he hung up. A notification pops up a minute later and you’re too groggy to decipher it, logging it to Maps instead so you can follow. It’s fifteen minutes away, you realize with a sigh of relief, so you can at least present yourself within the given constraint.

You can’t grasp what you feel in the moment, the night air and warm streets beckoning you to leave the clamped apartment soaked in fear. You think this is unlike Jaehyun, what he’s doing, but you’re too shaken to care. You need some respite, even if it comes from somewhere you can’t picture.

“You…wanted to meet me at a Korean barbecue restaurant?”

Jaehyun’s ears turn red, as they often do when he doesn’t know how to respond to you.

“I-It’s not that I…Never mind,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the cloth over his shoulder. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

We? You think, eyes scanning his face in confusion. If you want? Where’s the uncaring Jaehyun you’ve known, foreign eyes and impassive lips? He hardly looks the part he’s meant to play—a billboard face with a confident jawline and nothing more behind it. Outside of work—you don’t even know what else to call this—Jaehyun looks hardly intimidating, or abrasive. He seems different, gentle almost, although the dark circles under his eyes might have something to do with it. Maybe he’s too tired to say anything more and that’s it.

But he still came all the way here.

“Aren’t you a little…overdressed?”

There comes the remark you were hoping to not hear. You just wanted to look nice; you’d hardly call this overboard. The loose, mustard-colored chiffon shirt cinches at the waist, paired with your nicest (only not faded) pair of light blue jeans and shoes that haven’t seen the light of day since you arrived here. You barely ever design clothes for yourself anymore but you thought you looked good in this.

“No,” you defend quickly, feeling your face grow warm. “You’re underdressed.”

You say that, but he clearly looks good in anything he wears. Could you expect any less of a supermodel? He doesn’t seem to have dressed in as much a hurry as you had. Clad in a plain black T-shirt that’s half tucked into skinny jeans, he’s added his hideous baseball cap and a pair of navy blue shades which looks just as ridiculous as it sounds. You really think he shouldn’t be leaving his house without the help of a stylist.

“I…I just mean you don’t wear anything other than the same sweater and pants combination to work, so… please excuse my surprise.”

Jaehyun's eyes flicker over your figure before masking it with an awkward cough. You reach out and pull the shades over his head, the look bothering you more than anything else. He doesn’t respond to it, at least not in a way that’s obvious, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to do—you fixing his hair and unquestionably awful sense of style.

“There’s a soju place a few blocks ahead. Or if you’re not into that, there’s a noodle shop just at the edge of K-town,” Jaehyun rambles on, not meeting your eye. “If you’re looking for something inexpensive—"

“You came all the way here to give me directions?” You raise an eyebrow. You might even be enjoying this, although your inner voice bites back at you, denying it.

Jaehyun shakes his head, the red in his ears pulsing back up. “No. I…I needed some fresh air.”

“You…have someplace to be then?”

Jaehyun might not realize it, but the answers he gives always have room for teasing. Aloof. Vague. Yet somehow sweet.

“And you’ll go alone? At this hour? No, I’ll accompany you,” he says out loud, trying to play off the sudden vocal inflection. You sigh. Boys will be boys, as they say. Even if they’re twenty-six.

You let him keep you company. Though the first few minutes are painfully quiet, neither of you knowing quite what to say without starting a disagreement, you continue your walk through a city that never sleeps. It’s awkward even, being side by side without you seething at his charming, (undoubtedly) fake smile. He feels real, for once, and you don’t know how to react. There seem to be some gold-tinted cracks appearing in your reality, slowly but surely, and you’re not very good at patching anything other than fabric.

“You know, it’s actually a little relieving to see Korean letters here,” you say, sighing. You never thought you’d be so corny, but it really does feel good being here.

Or is it him?

“Thanks,” you add quietly, hoping he doesn’t hear. No, maybe you do. You can’t tell at this point.

“I…I know what it’s like,” he says, so softly that it almost gets carried away by the wind. He clears his throat, an ‘ah’ escaping his lips as he stops abruptly.

“We…We missed the turn,” he declares, a little sheepish as he scratches the back of his head.

You look at him in disbelief. “Jaehyun, how long have you lived here?”

“Oh, I was born here actually,” he says, tilting his face to look at you, blunt sarcasm evident on it. “How many times have you lost your way to the convenience store in Seoul?”

“Literally zero times.”

Jaehyun puffs a cheek before going back to normal and turning a hundred and eighty degrees down the street.

“Hey, wait up!” you huff at his increased pace, half jogging to keep up.

You reach the acclaimed noodle shop, your breath barely within your lungs and swearing at Jaehyun who looks like he wasn’t bothered one bit. He reaches his hand out to help you and you swat it away, chest still heaving with your hands on your knees.

“Dickhead,” you hiss.

“I don’t think I deserved that,” he responds with a widening smile.

“Asshole,” you say, standing up straight to glare at him.

“What would Seoul say hearing their beloved designer swear like this?” Jaehyun looks almost amused, as if you hadn’t shared an awkward time together, like two teenagers who were forced to walk home together from the bus stop.

“They can go to hell,” you retort. “As can you.”

Jaehyun laughs, a strange sound to hear and you blink a few times, unsure of what to do. You wonder if it’s the night playing tricks or if Jaehyun really is an actual person, not the basket of preprocessed insults you were used to. The cracks are widening—you’re not sure if they’re meant to be patched.

Perhaps you were a little eager to enter someplace warm, but you feel immense relief in this little shop, despite the smell of chili paste and noodle soup wafting through the air. It’s a little empty; in fact, you two seem to be the only people there apart from some students at the other corner, but you sit there in your own bubble, talking with Jaehyun of all people about which singer is better. He laughs occasionally, still managing to catch you off-guard with how honest it sounds and you wonder for a moment, how nice this feels. For the first time in a month, your heartbeat seems to have settled at a normal rate.

“What?” you enounce, a little offended. “What’s so wrong about my love life?”

“You just- You just don’t seem that type,” he explains, his ears as red as the bowl.

“I don’t have time for commitments, Jaehyun,” you sigh. “It’s what happens when you’re good at your job.”

Jaehyun nods, something akin to agreement in his response.

“So, your, uh, what is it? Training camp? What’s that about?” you ask, in between blowing your food.

“You could really Google things once in a while, you know?” he replies, bringing his chopsticks close to his mouth.

You roll your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not one of your creepy stalkers, Mr. Jung.”

“Nothing to do with that,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s for kids interested in fashion, modeling, photography—stuff.”

“Oh? How so?”

“I just sponsor them. You know how difficult it is to get noticed in…this industry,” he explains, like it’s not a big deal. Nothing ever seems to be a big deal to him.

You nod, unable to help the smile. Maybe it isn’t a big deal, but you’re sure now that you were mistaken. Just a little bit.

“I was lucky,” you mumble. “I can’t believe they saw those ugly embroidered patches and decided to sponsor me, oh my god. That sweater was hideous.”

Jaehyun laughs loudly. “They saw me cleaning outside my school and decided to pick me up and ship me straight to Paris.”

“Nothing’s worse than the first day.” You take another mouthful, the taste savoury and filling.

“You know, I’m pretty sure they photoshopped my ears out in the first magazine shoot I had.”

You laugh, leaning in a little closer. “Your first year was rough, huh?”

He hums, his eyes flickering from your nose to your lips. It makes you a little self-conscious, blood rushing to your cheeks at an unexpected pace. Who knew Jaehyun could have such an effect on you?

Your eyes flutter over his face once again.

He’s handsome. But it’s the sort of handsomeness that tells you, you don’t know much beyond it. You look back at your bowl, sobering up and completing the rest of the noodles.

It’s still midnight blue in the faraway sky as you walk down the streets. Most of the people you see out and about are those drunk off their faces from club hopping or a particularly enthusiastic group of tourists. The watermelon soju, while better with budae-jjigae and arguably the best soju flavor, somehow had little effect on you with the bitter aftertaste still settling in. The crowds in other places would make for great people-watching but you walk in a lonely street that calls for proximity. Beside you, Jaehyun sneezes, the sound of it making you jump on the quiet sidewalk.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun,” you huff, wincing at the sound, “you sounded like a fucking tractor.”

Jaehyun laughs, looking down at the pavement. When he looks back at you, the circles underneath his eyes seem to have darkened and you wonder if yours are the same. Yours can’t possibly be as important as his, though, and you wonder if it’s appropriate to laugh at how dorky he looks.

You find yourself not wanting to walk back into the safety of your suite. Jaehyun has a look of calm across his features, drawing over the landscape around you. New York lights don’t faze him, they only reflect in his eyes.

The way his soft breaths fan out against his lips remind you that he is human, after all—he has a soul and body, thoughts and its beautiful intricacies. When he turns back to you, you feel those criminal feelings all over again, except this time it’s even louder. It feels so wrong, and yet you can’t help but think of the liberation that could come with his lips on yours.

You could swear out loud, all the colorful words ready at the tip of your tongue.

“Your collar’s…”

Jaehyun’s voice trails off, his hand moving to fix your flipped collar, and when the heat of his skin brushes your neck, you try to not think of where else his hands could be, his lips could be.

In fact, there’s a moment within where it’s perfectly reasonable for him to kiss you, the taste almost on your tongue. But Jaehyun moves away, an indecipherable look across his face.

“I should get going,” he says, “I have a- I have a shoot early tomorrow—today.”

You nod, cheeks coloring at your own unsaid thoughts. Just what have you done to yourself? Why is your skin searing, why does your stomach feel upside down and why were you so ready to give in to him? To Jaehyun? You’ve never felt want like this before, this need to press skin against skin in a manner so illicit.

You part with a short goodbye, the sudden loneliness in your path making you want to backtrack, ask if you can go somewhere else again—maybe there’s a club nearby so you can see him through a round of shots as you usually do. Maybe the bitter feelings will return then.

When you think of the words you exchanged over the course of so unusual a night—your former unforgiving words contradict you. You hate the realization but being so obscure in front of a camera doesn’t have to mean he’s pretentious. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe someday you’ll even admit it.

You feel a flash of heat in your face. You are not running to Jung Yoonoh—what an embarrassing thought. If the very core of your being isn’t repulsed by it, there’s something wrong with you.

There’s something definitely wrong with you, love.

You breathe sharply, trying to organize your thoughts. As if the paparazzi wouldn’t have a treat out of this meeting you had with him if they got to know. You’d better limit it to the only one.

You bite your nails out of force of habit. It’s not going to help. You know. But there’s hardly anything else to cool your nerves.

Front row tickets to New York Fashion Week—the most mortifying dream out of all the ones you’ve ever had. The way Taeyong fidgets, you want to believe he’s in the same boat as you—it makes you thankful even.

Even outside of New York, Lee Taeyong is known for booking out exclusively intimate spaces. There are some props for the pre-show photography, including inked sketches on giant vertical banners stuck to the walls and tables with a messy collection of coffee cans, pencils and a sewing machine. Diverse types of fabric roll off the table in long strips, gently lining the floor till they end midway to another table. It’s a mess—a mess you made look good.

You’d left that and the backstage behind now. All eyes are on the sparsely lit runway, your aspirations coating the air in a thick veil. Are you ready? You won’t know till the first model steps out and till you can elicit a response from the audience.

Jaehyun’s at another venue—career before friendship, or, heaven forbid, attraction. You’d seen the fitting, cape skirt doing daringly well with his long legs clad in black pants, and a classy vest over a ruffled white shirt. You hate seeing other designs before a show, but god, were you glad you’d visited Givenchy to meet Johnny.

But you’re relieved even, that Jaehyun isn’t here. You don’t have the strength to face him anyway, all your energy directed into this chasm of whatever you’d call six months of effort. You want to call yourself accomplished. You want to be proud of yourself.

So this time, you remember all twenty-six minutes of it.

God, they look so beautiful up there, when they’re being looked at, seen for what they are—you’ll never get over it. There’s still hardly much to remember, except this time you’re happy to do it all over again. Effort only exists if it’s acknowledged.

It settles in quite a while later, the weight of all you’d done. You could almost cry, but that’s better left to pillows and the unrelenting skies above a midnight-coated rooftop. This is your moment. For once, you’re anything but afraid.

Afterparties are still not your thing.

However, you had your nicest outfit picked out and Lee Taeyong’s fancy, themed afterparties are something notorious among your colleagues. You’ve heard designers tend to go all out, wearing the best things they’ve designed even if it makes them a little embarrassed to be wearing their own work.

You feel a sigh leave your lips as you finally find a place to sit, your earlier conversations leaving you drained of social energy. You don’t feel alien—it’s strange—and their compliments feel almost warm. The music playing over the speakers is something, you’re sure, from a 60’s American movie, and while it has its own strange allure, the champagne gives you a larger dose of relief.

In fact, if you’re not mistaken, it’s quite like the ballroom in Paris, although significantly smaller. Burgundy wallpaper and lit up crystals hanging in hexagonal shapes across the ceiling—it’d look lovely on a dress too.

Taeyong’s speech, of course, gives you a spike of anxiety with the sudden announcement of his label’s future, a brand now. He smiles on the small podium, everyone admiring his radiance when suddenly he gestures at you, the glass in your hand feeling hotter and hotter.

“…I couldn’t do this without the only designer I felt was up to this—the first designer to work under my brand, as of now…”

You try not to blush under all the pairs of eyes that turn to you.

“(name), thank you.”

Success feels good. Gratitude feels even better.

Everything feels natural, as if a dream gone right. You’re no longer afraid of the world you stepped into, or the accumulation of feelings that molded you into the person you are now. The confidence you so chased after as if it were morphine, you’re going to be keeping an eye on it before it can run away again.

There’s still one little problem to your night of triumph, though.

Jaehyun hasn’t taken his eyes off you ever since you entered, a conversation yet pending. You already know he looks good in the plainest of T-shirts, so it might be a no-brainer that he looks absolutely stunning in a suit. The crystals lining the lapels of his coat glimmer amidst the crowd he’s gathered. It’s hard to come in contact, however. He’s magnetic, almost formidable in the way he attracts attention, and you know it’s something that comes with being a man of few words.

“You’re not enjoying the party?” you ask, taking in Jaehyun’s figure on the veranda overlooking the garden. He sits on one of the mahogany chairs, swirling the glass of champagne with a look of indifference coating his eyes and lips.

“I am,” he says, turning to face you. “Needed a short break.”

“I suppose being the most attractive man in the room needs a break,” you say, taking a seat beside him.

A wry laugh leaves his lips, as he lays his eyes on you. “You don’t seem bothered by it though?”

“I believe that pretty is as pretty does,” you say, your lips twitching.

Jaehyun smiles, furrowing his eyebrows yet still. “You think multimillionaire companies are built on things like inner beauty?”

He’s right. What’s inside is beautiful—it’s too idealistic a phrase. You sigh, adjusting your sleeve. It’s a difficult life, walking the runway no one dares to step on.

I think you’d make that cut too, you want to tell him.

“You know the best thing I got told today?” you ask, diverting the stream of conversation. You think he’s a friend. Even if it could be the champagne talking. Even if you want something more than the innocence of friendship.

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “Did Cristóbal Balenciaga’s ghost show up to compliment you?”

“No,” you emphasize, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was this girl. A student. Said she wrote an essay about me.”

Jaehyun hums, dimples marking his cheeks. “I didn’t know a student could get you so giddy.”

You laugh, looking down at your hands before resting your gaze on him again. He leans forward in his seat, strands of hair falling over his face from the rest and a contemplating look over his features. He looks much, much different from when you first saw him, and even handsomer, if that were possible. He’s grown up from the awkward boy you saw in the press release pictures of the Saint Laurent Fall Collection—he looks sharp and valiant on front covers, his shoulders broad and his eyes darling. Jaehyun is still unironically the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. He might even be one of the sweetest, inside out.

You look to his lips, full as ever. Perhaps you have something to confess. Secrets aren’t meant to be kept so long.

“Jaehyun,” you call, bringing his attention before faltering. It’s not like you’re the only one fawning over his smile. You get up instead, excusing yourself. “I’ll see you inside I suppose.”

“You know I like you, right?”

You turn around. “What?”

Jaehyun gets up, brushing his suit and fixing the lapels. The gentle night haze and the contrasting calls of the brightly lit party inside brush over an effect you’ve never felt before. “I…I like you. It’s pretty straightforward, I think.”

You deny it, or rather, some repressed little emotion inside you denies it vehemently. “Jaehyun, really. I admit I was a complete asshole to you and- and...it was…kind of you to accompany me that night but—”

“Stop. Don’t- Don’t call that kind. You’re not seeing the full picture.”

You stand there, unsure of what to do as you feel your chest grow warmer. Jaehyun turns his head upwards, letting out an audible breath. You can see conflict on his face, the struggle of someone still mulling over the perfect words.

“I don’t hate you. I never really hated you even if I wanted to.”

You suppose it wouldn’t be the right time to say that you might have indulged in that.

“I did,” you confess. “I hated you for a very, very long time, Jaehyun.”

“I know,” he whispers, looking straight at you. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging—”

“Jaehyun, I don’t care about that,” you say, your voice rising, “You told me you felt suffocated in bow ties and laughed when I asked if you wanted to run away with me. I just ended up thinking you were a goddamn liar.”

“Fine,” he says quietly in his baritone timbre, sounds of the chatter from inside numbing away. “Then let me be honest.”

“When I met you, I thought there was someone like me doing just the same—so…suddenly in the midst of everything. Even if you were a complete asshole to me. You were still real.”

He phrases it delicately, lilting, as if that hasn’t been your whole purpose here. He’s only a breath away from you, but you don’t want to push him away this time. There’s a moment’s pause.

“Between work and myself, which is more important? For once, I thought I could answer that question.”

Your breaths are soft and shallow as they fall, trying to understand his words.

“And then you just fucking stopped. You stopped flying out and I’d barely see you outside of Seoul like you- like you gave up or something. I didn’t understand—what happened to you?”

Jaehyun looks at you with a hardened expression, ears turning red as if he hadn’t expected this outburst of truth. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It’s not like him to open his mouth and let out words that are raw and honest; it makes you feel the weight even more. You were still kids that night. You’re not anymore.

“Jaehyun,” you whisper before reaching your hand out and placing it against his cheek.

It’s so hard to not take in the details. The prominence of the muscle by his mouth when he speaks, the fine lines by his nose which appear sporadically or the look of complete reverence in his eyes when he’s staring at you like this—everything those runway shots can’t possibly capture. Your eyes trail to his lips, your own drawn to it with a desire you don’t know how to comprehend—and don’t quite wish to, either.

You want to believe he made the first move but you give in so easy, it’s alarming. Your lips move against his in a rhythm new and frantic, his hands gripping you with full strength at the waist and you part your lips to allow a deeper kiss. Your hands are free to roam his perfectly styled hair, tousling it in a fashion that makes him groan, only to push you harder against the wall.

“I should’ve- I should’ve let you kiss me that night,” he mumbles against your lips. “Maybe I…I wouldn’t have made you hate me.”

“Maybe you should shut up and kiss me right now,” you respond, your tongue pressing against his, effectively doing the job.

It’s not difficult to see stars when his hips press against yours, his hand resting on one thigh to pull it up slightly. You feel the impact of it head-on, almost moaning out loud when his fingers press harder against the back of your thigh.

“Tell me- Tell me you want this,” he breathes out when he breaks the kiss.

You respond with reconnecting your lips, your tongue sliding against his in fervent affirmations. You’ve already forfeited your modesty, there’s no reason to stop.

You leave early, getting into the car you’d booked for the night. It would be far more embarrassing were it not for the separation between the front and backseats, when Jaehyun’s hands are up your clothes and his lips rough against your neck. The lip colour has smudged by the side of Jaehyun’s lips, a short giggle escaping you when you notice. It’s not enough to halt the kissing, or feeling each other up —something that feels long overdue. You try to keep your sounds to a minimum but Jaehyun seems to not care about things as worthless as shame, at least for the moment.

“Well, you’re about as graceful as a sea lion when you’re off the runway,” you hiss when Jaehyun’s teeth prick your skin.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” he responds in a low tone, the rest of his retort pushed away by his lips against your mouth.

You don’t have time to take in the details of Jaehyun’s apartment because he’s already carrying you to the bed, your legs around his waist and continuing to kiss you as if making up for something. All those years, you could have been doing this. Maybe you do have some regrets.

The material of his dress shirt feels expensive but clothes are not what you need right now. His phone rings once but he drags a finger over it to reject the call, his mouth still pressing against your collarbone. The only sounds you hear are rugged breathing and you fumbling with the buttons of his shirt as you pull it over his shoulders. The city lights below you reach through the drawn curtains, all the unrelenting complicacies left behind in those faraway streets.

Jaehyun makes a sound of annoyance at the phone ringing yet again. He breaks apart from you, receiving the call while his fingers massage his temple.

“Hyung, I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later—”

“I was just wondering where you disappeared and you don’t even grace me with a hello?” Johnny’s voice rings clear in the all too silent bedroom.

“Hyung—”

“Wait a minute.” There’s a pause within which Jaehyun seems to tense up. “Are you fucking? Like did you leave the party to get la—”

“Hyung. I’m hanging up.”

The coral pink spread over his ears is almost as pretty as the look of pure annoyance over his face.

“That—”

“Didn’t happen,” you complete, giggling. If someone were to tell you’d be seeing Jaehyun like this a few months ago, you wouldn’t know whether to be embarrassed or exhilarated.

You place your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling him into another kiss.

Sex is barely ever beautiful—even if it’s Jung Yoonoh over you, planting kisses from your mouth to jaw, neck to chest and whispering sweet, delicious words against each part. He certainly knows how to use that tongue of his, better than you’d expect from a boy so pristine.

It doesn’t matter if it’s not beautiful, when it’s just like a slow dance—in shared solace and love out of time. You bite your lips to stop smiling too often for it to feel as serious and indifferent as all the other times. Sometimes you feel Jaehyun grinning into the crook of your neck, the giddiness of love taking over the movement of your hips against his. The perfect anatomy of his, paired with his candied words makes you think that maybe you do fit together.

Jaehyun pushes into you at a steady pace, your fingers digging into his back and over his shoulder blades only to draw out sounds more pleasing to your ears. You let someone else take charge for once, his praising whispers of ‘that’s my baby’ or ‘you just look so good’ far too teasing but he follows through, your body barely able to respond apart from shaking and shuddering till you reach your high.

The sound of skin against skin dies down well into the night and you get cleaned, still blissed out from making the summit of all your senses. It’s warm inside, despite turning the air conditioner on.

“Jaehyun,” you call, lowering yourself to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Hm?” He gives you a drowsy smile, arm under his head and hair sticking to his forehead funny.

“Did you really not hate me? Not even once?” You rest your cheek against your palm as you lie beside him.

Even under the dim lights, it’s not hard to spot the blush on him when he positively glows. Jaehyun reminds you of warm auburn and the touch of cool satin—it’s easy to make things, find inspiration in love.

“Oh my god, you were lying!” you accuse, sitting up straight. “There’s no way you didn’t hate me. I called your modeling as good as a coconut’s!”

“As you so love to remind me,” he mumbles.

There’s a brief moment before the two of you crack up, his deep laughter perfectly mismatched with yours. There’s hardly many sounds on the eighteenth floor, but maybe you’ve always been yearning for this privacy—this proximity in shared laughter and warm touches.

“No, I didn’t,” Jaehyun answers your question after it’s quiet once again. “I thought...I think you’re…”

Jaehyun trails off, his eyes flickering over your face before fixing on your lips as his own tug into a smile. He gulps. “I think we’d be in trouble if the paparazzi saw us throwing choice words at each other, don’t you think? You were barely out of school then.”

“Me?” You laugh. “You were thinking about me?”

“And a little bit about me.”

You fall asleep against Jaehyun’s chest with the certainty of kinder tomorrows, a thing he teaches you through whispers against the pillow and fingers playing with your hair. There’s something private in the way he holds your face, something delicate and homely running from his long fingers to his flushed knuckles and the rest of his hand as it presses against your cheek. It’s warm here, and safe, and maybe home is where the heart is, after all.

“Really? You’re not even a little bit sad I’m leaving?” you ask, placing your hand over your heart. “Who’s going to help you when you’re getting bullied in the workplace now?”

Doyoung huffs in annoyance, placing the box down beside the moving truck. “You’re the only one who bullies me in the workplace.”

You adjust the ugly baseball cap on your head, the one Jaehyun had pulled over your head in an attempt to stop you from complaining about his messy apartment. You hadn’t realized you’d worn it all the way to Seoul till the articles about your questionable choice of accessories had surfaced.

“Your boyfriend’s calling,” Doyoung says, making a face as he picks your phone up from the box near him. “I can’t even believe this. All those years of flirting and—”

You snatch it from him, glaring at him for the choice of words. He raises his hands defensively, rolling his eyes at your sudden movement.

“Are you sure you don’t want me flying to Seoul?”

“Unless you’re planning to work in a truck rental.”

You hear Jaehyun laugh on the other side of the line. Is it normal to have blood rush straight from your chest to your ears at the sound of laughter? You hope that doesn’t change.

You’d visited him a day before your flight. It hasn’t been all that long but Jaehyun certainly makes it out to be, just so he can use his cheesy one-liners. You try not to smile thinking about how he had flung his hair band out, immediately tousling his hair back into a pretty mess and struggling to keep a straight face when you’d visited out of the blue. Jaehyun wakes up at one in the afternoon when his schedule is empty and it had appalled you enough to help him out with basic chores before you left. (It didn’t end well. He kept putting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his arms around you while you did the dishes.)

“(name)? (name), are you daydreaming again?”

You sigh. “You can’t wait three more days, Jae? It’s, what, one in the morning there!”

“Do you want me saying something cheesy?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t think I can sleep without waking up to your face.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, unable to grace him with a response. The dreamy languor in his voice is more than recognizable and if you’re not mistaken, he’s going to be saying something highly inappropriate.

“Do you know what dream I had last night?” he asks, the smile almost evident with how suggestive it sounds.

“Jaehyun, no,” you warn before lowering your voice. “I swear if it’s another dirty dream—”

“Come home and I’ll tell you all about it. With demonstrations.”

This time you can’t help the laughter, trying to mask it with a cough only to fail. You push the back of your hand against your cheek in order to soothe the involuntary blush. Your perfume smells just like him, and you realize suddenly why he’d gifted it to you.

“That definitely makes me want to leave faster,” you quip.

“I certainly hope so.”

It’s different now, especially if you remember your feelings just last February. Change feels easy for the first time in your life. You check off your list of items, counting the boxes as they’re lifted onto the truck. It took a good amount of thinking, and a bunch of fights before you could decide. New York isn’t so bad. Not when you have reason to be there. You’d like to call it love.

A list of things you do appreciate: Jung Yoonoh. Jaehyun. Whatever.

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years ago

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Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

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longing-and-heartache-and-lust · 3 years ago

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the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.I

[next] [Ao3]

This is the first chapter of my work for the @geraskierbigbang in colaboration with the incredible @gen-syz-art (also on Twitter) as my artist.

New chapters will be updated five days a week - aside from the weekends - until completion ✨

[When Geralt first comes across the mansion, he comes in because the nearest town is still hours away and he knows Roach is not going to make it that far without rest.

That is when he meets Julian - the only resident of the truly enormous estate that seems to have everything one might dream of within its walls.

When Geralt returns the second time, he tells himself that it’s only because he wants to thank Julian for his hospitality and help, and not because he wants to see him again, feel the warmth of his fingers against his skin.

And when he returns again after that, he learns that both the mansion and his own heart may not be as simple as they seem.]

See the first art piece by @gen-syz-art here

_______________________________

The first time he comes across the mansion, he's returning from a hunt.

It’s long past sunset, nearly midnight, and the pale light of the crescent moon is barely enough to illuminate the path that leads Geralt to the gates.

The town he came from is still no less than two hours away, and Roach is already starting to trip, tired after a long ride. If it wasn’t for that, Geralt would’ve probably ignored his own exhaustion, as well as the wounds on his shoulder, but the mare needs rest, and that's what makes him stop when he sees a flickering light behind one of the large windows of the mansion.

It's hard to tell in the darkness but even so, the building looks immense, as well as the garden around, part of which is separating the mansion from the gates.

Geralt doesn't want to risk it, doesn't want to wander into a stranger's home, especially at this hour, but he knows that Roach won't make it to the town they came from, and he doesn't know any other places they could stop at along the way.

So, against his better judgement, he tugs on the reins and stops the horse, jumping down from the saddle with a pained grunt.

He comes closer to the tall gates, adorned with some intricate design, and pushes on one of the arches, not really expecting for it to give. To his surprise, it does, making no sound as it opens, letting him into the garden.

"Stay here," he says, turning to Roach before slowly stepping inside, his every sense heightened.

The path leading up to the mansion is wide enough for a carriage and Geralt can't help but think who it is that's going to open the door if he gets to it.

Up close, the mansion is even bigger than it seemed from behind the gates, and Geralt isn't sure if he'd ever seen a building that big, even in Novigrad. The Oxenfurt Academy seems bigger when he thinks about it but then again, the Academy is made up out of multiple buildings while the mansion seems to only be one.

There doesn't seem to be any movement inside but the light behind the windows tells him that there is a fireplace burning, and since it's on the first floor, Geralt figures that it must be a living room or, perhaps, a library, so whoever it is that he's about to meet must still be awake.

He's almost half-way through the garden when there is a sound somewhere to his right and Geralt instinctively snaps his head towards it, ready for anything that might be hiding in the tall rose bushes but, to his relief, the creature that steps out of its hiding place is not a ghoul or a foglet but a large dog.

It steps out onto the path in front of the witcher, blocking the way, and growls at him, low and protective, teeth bared and dark eyes directed straight at Geralt. It doesn't seem aggressive and it makes no move towards the witcher but Geralt still knows that he won't be able to make it another step without the animal moving from simply warning him to protecting its owners.

The dog barks at him, high and loud - the way hunting dogs bark to attract their master's attention - and Geralt already raises his hand to cast an Axii, knowing that otherwise, the animal will not let him pass, when the front door of the mansion opens and a man steps outside, a lit candle in his hand.

"Asra?" he calls, and the dog's ears perk up. "What is it, girl?"

He comes closer, head tilted slightly to the side as he studies his late-night guest.

Geralt clears his throat, still making no move towards the mansion or the man in front of him, the dog separating them.

"I apologize for the intrusion," he says, words carefully measured. "My horse is tired and I am unfamiliar with these places, I don't know where it is that we could stop if not here."

The man stops a few steps away from him, and this close, Geralt can see the features of his face. The tentative eyes, sparkling dark-blue in the flickering candlelight, the sharp jawline, the long lashes.

He cannot be older than twenty-five, Geralt thinks to himself.

"If you'd be so kind as to let me feed and water my horse, I'll be on my way before long, and won't disturb you any further," he says, not knowing if he should lower his head or not. "I will pay, of course."

The man in front of him stays silent for a moment, then reaches his hand out and beckons the dog closer, sinking his finger into the long fur on its head.

"You're hurt," he says, indicating at Geralt's shoulder with a move of his head.

Geralt shrugs it off, even though the pain is getting stronger by what seems like every minute. Up in the saddle, it was easier to ignore it.

"I dare not disturb you with that," he says. "I only need to give my horse some rest."

The man hums, averting his eyes and biting on the inside of his lower lip. For a few moments, there's silence, and Geralt already wants to apologise and leave but before he gets the chance, the man stops him.

"I'll open the stables if you let me bandage up those wounds," he says, a glint in his eyes.

Geralt opens his mouth, then closes it. There are a thousand different ways that he can see this going wrong. He could get lured into the house and robbed - or killed - he could get captured and never make it out or there could simply be a price to pay for the intrusion but there doesn't seem to be a choice.

And, he admits halfheartedly, there is something about the host that feels welcoming.

"Alright," he finally says. "If you insist."

The man smiles at that - bright and open, and gestures for Geralt to follow him.

With a little hesitation, the witcher whistles for Roach and, once the mare catches up with them, follows the man deeper into the garden, towards the stables.

"And what shall I call you, wayfarer?" the man asks, holding his hand out for Roach to sniff.

It's something about his voice, Geralt decides.

"Geralt," he says. "Of Rivia."

"Of Rivia?" the man echoes, another smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "I have never been that far South. Heard that the summers there are an absolute wonder."

He stops to bring the burning candle up to the lanterns at either side of the stable doors and turns to face Geralt again.

"I'm Julian."

***

The stables are pleasantly warm after the cold night air. Not even summers in the North are warm enough.

It's dark inside but Geralt can hear horses breathing in their sleep. By the sound alone, he counts five.

"And what is this lovely creature?" Julian asks, extending his hand towards Roach and getting his fingers into her forelocks when she doesn't object.

Strange, Geralt thinks, She usually bites at people she doesn't know.

"Roach," he says, sneaking a look around when his eyes adjust to the darkness. "Like the fish."

Julian hums and opens the door to the nearest stable, gesturing for Geralt to lead the horse inside.

"I'm afraid my stableman is already asleep but there is more than enough food in the feeder and I will get her some water in a minute," he says, patting the mare on the neck and watching Geralt undo her bridle. "She will be at her best tomorrow, you can trust me on that."

Geralt turns to him, hands stilling on the buckles of the saddle.

"Tomorrow?" he echoes.

Julian nods, the corners of his lips curling up in a soft smile.

"Surely, I cannot allow for you to travel through the night if there is a place for you to stay? What a horrible host that would make me!"

Geralt wants to objects, wants to say that it's unnecessary and that they'll be on their way once Roach is fed but somewhere deep in his heart, he knows that they both need proper rest. The pain in his shoulder keeps getting worse and if he doesn't sleep or at least meditate, it will grow unbearable by morning.

"That's very kind," he says finally. "Thank you."

He's still waiting.

Waiting for Julian to take a closer look at him and finally realise that he's a witcher. Waiting for him to say to get out and never come near his estate again. Like everyone always does.

But Julian doesn't, even as he raises his head and meets Geralt's eyes that he knows are glowing in the darkness, reflecting what little light there is.

"Come on," he says when Geralt sets the ammunition aside. "Let's get her some water and head inside, those wounds of yours seem pretty bad."

Geralt wants to say that it's nothing, that his regeneration with deal with it on its own after he gets some sleep but he knows that he'd already agreed to this, so he bites his tongue.

Julian leads him out of the stables and back into the garden, towards a well, the dog following closely at his side. It doesn’t seem to be afraid of Geralt, unlike most other animals that he comes across in towns or on the Path and he would almost question that but then again, it seems like a hunting dog, so maybe it's just used to protecting its master against any danger.

"What led you to these regions?" Julian asks, moving the heavy lid of the well with surprising ease, considering his slender figure. "Especially at this time of night."

Geralt feels like he should offer help with getting the water for Roach but he's not sure if that might be overstepping. After all, he's only a late-night guest.

"Work," he grumbles, tensing when the dog leaves Julian's side to come closer and stiff at him, its long nose reaching all the way to his waist. "I'm a hunter."

Julian chuckles and turns to him, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"A hunter with two swords behind his back and a silver medallion?"

Fuck.

"A monster hunter," Geralt adds quickly, telling himself that now it's doesn't count as a lie.

"A monster hunter," Julian echoes, getting the laces of his off-white shirt out of the way and slapping Geralt's hand away lightly when he finally decides to reach for the bucket full of water. "And what was it that you were hunting? A wyvern I've seen a couple of times in the last months?"

Geralt has not had his hands slapped away from anything in such a long time that for a second, his words fail him and he just stands there, looking at his glove like he's waiting for an imprint of Julian's fingers to appear on the dark leather.

"Nekkers," he finally says when it doesn't. "Uh, got a contract in a town a couple of hours from here."

Julian sets the lid of the well back into place and clicks his tongue at the dog for it to stop sniffing at Geralt's armour.

"Sorry for that," he says, turning to walk back towards the stables, Geralt following him a few steps behind. "She's a little distrustful towards strangers, especially at night. But she won't do you any harm."

Geralt isn't particularly scared of the dog because even if it were to bite him, his armour would protect him from the teeth. And even if he wasn't wearing any armour at all, well, he'd had injuries much worse than a dog bite. But it does feel a little reassuring that he's on the dog's good side and doesn't have to think about that, to begin with.

"You got a contract a few hours away but the nekkers are all the way up in these lands?" Julian asks. "Seems a little far to me."

The witcher hums in agreement and, when the man remains silent, realises that that doesn't seem to be a sufficient answer.

"The baron that hired me has croplands here," he says, even though it's not true and he's got no idea why the people in town needed him to deal with a nekker nest so far away. With contracts like that, questions weren't really relevant, all that went into account was the coin. "Nekkers killed a couple of his workers and he wanted me to get rid of them."

He doesn't even know why he chooses to lie but Julian doesn't seem to doubt his words, pouring the water out into a basin in Roach's stable and running his hand through his mane before closing the door.

"She will be just fine here," he assures, noticing the concern in Geralt's eyes. "Come on, let me take you inside. I don't imagine a nekker wound should be left unattended."

***

Geralt follows Julian to the front door and when the man pushes it open, hesitates for a split second before stepping into the mansion.

The hallway is dark, only partially illuminated by the warm flickering light from one of the rooms to the right - the same light that Geralt saw through the windows.

The dog follows them into the house, brushing over Geralt's leg as it sneaks past him and disappears somewhere in the other end of the seemingly endless hallway. It's almost ominous, how it just gets lost in the darkness despite the winter-white fur.

"Are you hungry?" Julian asks, leading Geralt into the room with the fireplace that turns out to be a library, just as he'd suspected.

Geralt is hungry, though it's only now that he realises that. The last time he ate was just after the break of dawn, when he'd just set out and all the tavern was able to offer him was a loaf of pumping bread because it was still too early and the breakfast wasn't yet ready.

"I'm not," he says, still.

This is already too much, he knows. All he needed was food and water for Roach but now he's staying in the mansion overnight and all of that is already more than he's comfortable with. Asking for anything else would be even worse.

"Stubborn, aren't you?" Julian says, narrowing his eyes at the witcher like he wants to see if he's going to break under that gaze.

When Geralt doesn't, the younger man just nods with a soft smile.

"If you change your mind, let me know."

In the warm light of the fireplace, he looks even younger than he did outside, and Geralt catches himself looking at Julian for a little too long as he moves the logs in the hearth to light the fire a little brighter. His eyes turn out to be bright-blue rather than dark, like cornflowers.

"I can wake my majordomo up for him to take a look at your shoulder," he says, indicating at an armchair for the witcher to sit in with a move of his wrist. "Or I can do that myself. If you don't mind."

Geralt really doesn't know why he even cares but if all he has to do is sit still and let the man bandage him up, it's not a big price to pay for the opportunity to sleep in the safe warmth of a home rather than outside, waking up from every little noise.

"It's your call," he says, finally.

Julian nods, resting his hands on his hips and giving Geralt a nearly evaluating look.

"Stay here for just a minute," he asks. "I will get a clean cloth and be right back."

The witcher hums an affirmative and Julian disappears in the hallway, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

It feels strange, being here. The expensive carpets on the floors, the paintings and tapestries on the walls, the endless rows of books on polished shelves that climb all the way up to the ceiling, not to mention the overall size of the mansion.

Geralt feels like he doesn't belong here, like as much as a touch from him, bloodied and dirty after a long hunt, is going to ruin the soft leather of the armchair he's been pointed to along with everything in close proximity.

There is a very big part of him that wants to leave, just meditate somewhere in the garden while he waits for Roach to have her rest but there is also a part of him - smaller but persistent - that wants to stay.

It's something about Julian, he decides. Something about the ease that he holds himself with, like he's not afraid of the witcher. Not something that Geralt sees very often. Especially after Blaviken.

He gets so lost in his thoughts that he almost fails to notice soft footsteps from somewhere behind him and when he turns, he's greeted with a wet press of a dog's nose against his palm. It sniffs at him thoroughly and with interest, and Geralt allows for it, keeping still as not to scare the animal away. It seems a little strange to him that the dog is inspecting him again but what does he know about dogs, really.

It also seems to be bigger, somehow, because back in the garden its nose could only reach his waist but now it's sniffing at the buckles that go over his ribcage. Or maybe it just seems like it and it did the same exact thing back in the garden.

"Ah, I see you're making new friends," Julian smiles, reappearing in the room, a towel in one hand and a deep dish filled with water - in the other.

"I suppose, she likes me more now that I'm not an intruder in your garden," Geralt chuckles and he's surprised to learn that he means it.

"Oh?" Julian breathes, gesturing for the witcher to sit down. "Oh, no, Asra is upstairs. This is Lucio, her brother. They look identical, I know, he's just a few inches taller."

Fuck, Geralt thinks, Of course, he's got two dogs and not one but fucking shapeshifting.

Reluctantly, he lowers himself into the chair, watching Julian place a stool beside it to sit down himself, all of his appliances laid out on the nightstand by the chair. Aside from the towel and the dish with water, there are also bandages and a curved needle for stitches along with some thread.

"You know how to stitch wounds?" Geralt asks before he can stop himself.

Julian hums an affirmative, waiting for the witcher to undo the buckles of his armour and set it aside. The left sleeve of his worn black shirt is torn where the nekker's claws had slashed against his arm and the fabric is soaked with blood.

Julian wrinkles his nose but remains otherwise unperturbed.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take the shirt off, too," he says softly when Geralt makes no move to do so for some time. "Promise I won't look."

To reaffirm his words, Julian puts a hand over his eyes and Geralt can finally feel some of the tension bleed away from his shoulders. He tugs the shirt off over his head, wincing when the fabric, trapped in the wounds with dried up blood, rips away from them, re-opening the cuts. Just before Julian opens his eyes again, Geralt casts a Quen over himself to partially stop the bleeding.

"Not as bad as I thought," the younger man says, examining his shoulder before gently pressing a towel, warm from the water, to the wounds.

Geralt watches the white fabric turn red and bites his tongue.

"I should have a shirt that will fit you," Julian adds, wringing the towel out over the bowl before bringing it back where it was.

"That won't be necessary," Geralt replies quickly, averting his eyes to look into the fire because if he doesn't, he feels like it's going to get overwhelming again. "I've put you through enough trouble."

The younger man sighs, amused rather than annoyed, his warm breath ghosting against Geralt's damp skin. The witcher expects to feel his eyes on him, lured in by the scars, just like it always is when someone sees him shirtless but Julian remains concentrated on his task, paying to mind to anything else. And it's somehow both worse and better at the same time. Geralt used to people staring - some with interest but most - with disgust - used to them nitpicking at every scar, every mark left on him by claws or fangs or swords, re-opening them again and again but Julian doesn't seem interested in them. His eyes don't flick over Geralt's chest and abdomen once.

"The guest rooms are in the West wing, on the third floor," Julian says, apparently having decided on letting the shirt go. "I will take you there once I'm done with your shoulder and leave you to rest, unless you've changed your mind about dinner. Would you prefer a room with the windows facing the garden or the forest?"

Geralt wants to say that he's going to be happy with anything he's given but Julian looks at him expectantly and that makes him feel like that answer will not be considered enough. Perhaps even impolite.

"The forest," he makes himself say.

And then, after a moment:

"Do you live here alone?"

It's not that he necessarily wants to talk but he doesn't want to sit in silence, either. It feels strange not to say anything. Rude, even.

Julian shrugs with one shoulder, flicking his eyes up for just a second to look at the witcher.

"Depends on how you look at it," he says, setting the blood-stained towel aside and reaching for the needle and thread. "My majordomo lives here, in the mansion, and a little further into the garden, there is a house where the gardeners, the housekeepers and everyone else that works for me resides. So technically, no, I don't live here alone. But if you mean family, then yes."

Geralt winces when the needle pierces his skin for the first time but the warmth of Julian's fingers almost makes up for it.

"Hm," he grunts, non-committal.

He almost wants to ask why, ask how does he even live in a place this big with only the servants and the dogs to keep him company but once again, he bites his tongue.

"It's not as lonely as it seems," Julian says after a moment, like he'd read his thoughts. "I have quite a lot of guests. Some of them are friends, some of them are just wayfarers, like you. You're the second witcher that I've had here."

Geralt perks up at that without even realising.

"It was a couple of years ago," Julian goes on, the interest on the witcher face clearly not hidden well enough. "He'd been hunting a griffin and, sadly, lost his horse in the process. As you know, the nearest town big enough to sell horses is hours away from here, and though he knew the general direction of it, making that way on foot wasn't something that could be done in one day, especially with a griffin head strapped to you. So when he stumbled across the mansion late at night - just like you - what could I do but let him in?"

Geralt chuckles, low in his throat.

"It's not very wise to let strangers into your home like this," he says because he cannot help himself. "Especially at night. And especially witchers."

The younger man just waves at him dismissively, a smile softening the features of his face.

"Yes, well-" he says, flicking his eyes up once more before going back to his stitches. "I'm still alive, am I not? And currently helping you stay that way, as well."

His warm fingers ghost over Geralt's skin as he tightens the last stitch and sets the needle aside, studying his work critically.

"Besides," he adds, bringing the towel to the witcher's shoulder once again to wipe off thin trails of blood before reaching for the bandages. "He was very nice. Named Aiden. He was the one who taught me to stitch wounds."

The name doesn't ring a bell, so Geralt takes a guess:

"A Griffin?"

Julian chuckles and shakes his head, wrapping the bandages around Geralt's shoulder with admirable precision. The voluminous sleeves of his chemise keep getting in the way but he doesn't roll them up. Geralt chooses not to mention it.

"A Cat," the younger man says. "I know, I know, I had the same reaction when I saw the medallion."

He tucks the ends of the bandage under one of the layers and pats Geralt on the arm, reaching for the towel to wipe the blood off his hands.

"There you go," he says, getting up. "Good as new."

Geralt rolls his shoulders and, to his delight, the bandages stay just as they are. He gets up, reaching for his shirt, ignoring the blood and the tears on the sleeve.

"Thank you."

Julian's eyes flick over him just once, from the waist of his trousers and all the way to his shoulders, and then he's averting his eyes with a warm smile.

"Of course."

It's getting very late, probably closer to dawn than it is to midnight and when Geralt think that he could've still been on the road at this time, there is a little shiver that runs up his spine.

"Are you sure I can't offer you something to eat?" Julian asks, blinking a little owlishly.

He's clearly only half-awake now that he's done with Geralt's shoulder and so is the witcher, so even though some food would've been nice, he still shakes his head.

"Alright," the younger man agrees, though he doesn't seem particularly thrilled about it. "In the morning, then."

***

Julian takes him through the long hallways of the mansion, illuminating the way with a flickering light of a candle, Lucio following him closely, his white fur brushing against Julian's thigh.

When they get to the wide staircase, Asra appears from behind it and joins them.

"Do they follow you everywhere?" Geralt asks, because in the silence, he feels like the mansion is never going to end.

"Oh?" the younger man breathes, turning to look at the witcher. "Oh, the dogs? Yeah, they're always somewhere close."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Geralt thinks that those dogs are probably worth hundreds of crowns each, maybe even thousands. When the cold moonlight touches their fur, they don't even look real.

In some strange way, the entire mansion feels that way.

But Geralt tells himself that he's just tired and in the morning, it's going to feel different. New places always seems strange the first night, he'd spent enough years on the Path to know that.

They make it up the stairs onto the third floor and turn into the West wing, walking down yet another endless hallway until they get to the very end of it, where Julian stops and opens a door to the right, inviting Geralt inside with a move of his hand.

"I do hope you find this room comfortable," he says, staying in the hallway and keeping the dogs at his side. "Join me for breakfast in the morning?"

Geralt knows that he should leave as soon as he can, knows that this is already so much more than he'd initially asked for but before he can stop himself, he already agrees.

"Would love to."

Julian shines with a smile and somehow, he almost looks relieved.

"Alright," he nods, handing Geralt the burning candle and turning to leave. "Goodnight then, Geralt."

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier big bang #geralt of rivia #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #the drug the dark the light the flame #my writing #calton writes

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a-master-procrastinator · 3 years ago

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Long ass post about the Eternal family not being a copy-paste from ATLA (aka I like the memes but my god can you please stop)

Because some people truly think that Vaylin is off-brand Azula, Arcann is Zuko and so on.

It's. Called. A. Trope. (I mean how often do we come across abusive manipulative fathers in media? Mothers who couldn't much to change anything? Children, desperately looking for their parent's approval no matter what?)

Of course, you have to consider the fact that the writing of ATLA is simply better than of KotFE/ET, so this might have been one of the reasons why people say that.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Last Airbender, Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne expansions!

Okay, so here's my unprofessional, maybe biased, not super deep take.

(not going to mention that all of them are members of royal, ruling family, kinda obvious)

What roles do they play in their stories? Well, both Valkorion and Ozai are main antagonists, but their presence throughout the story is very different. Ozai is rarely shown in first two seasons, we don't even see his face until season 3. He doesn't have a direct connection to the protagonist, they only meet at the very end of the show, and Ozai's role is to pose a threat to the world, while Aang's is to save it. Valkorion, on the other hand, is constantly on the screen, interacting with the main character, challenging their viewpoint and influencing them directly. His end goal is similar to Ozai's (destroy everything and be the only ruler of the his nation), but with one major difference - he's trapped in Outlander's mind, so to achieve his goal Valkorion attempts to take control of the main character. Their interactions play important role in the story, and we spend a lot of time with Valkorion.

In addition to that, their relationship with children are also not exactly the same. It seems like Azula is Ozai's favorite and Zuko is a failure in his eyes until he meets his expectations, and the same goes with Vaylin, Arcann and Valkorion, right? Well, partially. Indeed, Valkorion and Ozai's treat their sons in similar ways (are disappointed in them until they meet their expectation by doing something that goes against their morals), but when it comes to Vaylin and Azula, it's not that easy. See, Valkorion claims that Vaylin was always his favorite creation (even though we know it's actually his empire), and he certainly seems to take pride in her potential in the Force. But her power is the very reason he's afraid of his own daughter, and in this fear Valkorion literally locks Vaylin away and allows to put her through physical and mental torture just to make sure she won't become a threat, won't overpower him. Maybe he thought of her better than of Arcann, but she wasn't his favored child for sure. I don't want to say that Azula hasn't experienced abuse from Ozai, but for the most part he clearly favored her over Zuko. He has never shown fear of Azula's power and abilities (or at least I haven't noticed), quite the opposite - allowed her to do a lot, as long as she brings results.

I could also mention their slightly different characterization (mostly that we get more characterization of Valkorion, get to learn his motivations, views, philosophy and all that, also he's portrayed as more nuanced, even if he not really is) and role in their respective governments (ozai is one of many Fire Lords and arguably not the greatest, while Valkorion is a god to citizens of Zakuul, their only Immortal Emperor), but those are details, and I think you get the point.

What's similar: role of the main antagonist, manipulative and abusive father, goal of destruction of everything that isn't their nation/empire, relationship with disgraced son.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with the main character, relationship with daughter, role in their societies.

Senya and Ursa are even less similar. Yes, they both are mothers who love their children, but have to leave them, but these are probably the only things they have in common. Just as with Ozai and Valkorion's presence throughout the story, Ursa is only shown in flashbacks (for obvious reasons), and Senya is one of major characters in KotFE and (a bit less major) in KotET. Ursa leaves because she has to kill Azulon in order to save Zuko, and later isn't present in the story (I'm aware that her fate is told in comics, but we aren't talking about it). Senya leaves because when she tries to take children with her, they refuse, and she understands that she can't force them to, nor she can help them to break free from Valkorion's manipulations. For a long time she's absent from Arcann ad Vaylin's lives, but at the time of game events she attempts to save her children and stop the madness and destruction they've caused, and it isn't a small part of the story.

I also want to add that their relationship with Ozai and Valkorion are also different, but can't say much about Ursa. I heard that she didn't choose this marriage and suffered emotional (and maybe physical???) abuse from Ozai. I can say with confidence, though, that Senya genuinely loved Valkorion, and strangely enough, he seems to at very least respect her. But, of course, this wasn't the best marriage either.

Plus, we see more of Senya's relationship with Vaylin than Arcann or Thexan, but with Ursa we see her more with Zuko than Azula. Just a detail to remember.

(also Senya is simply a better character but that besides the point, moving on. in this house we stand Senya)

What's similar: role of loving and caring mother, abandoning their family at some point.

What's different: presence in the overall narrative, relationship with husband, characterization in general.

Boy, where do I even begin. Vaylin and Azula are similar in that they are both extremely powerful (one is firebending prodigy, the other is potentially stronger than Valkorion), both are cruel "craaaaazy" (i hate that cliché), both are younger sisters, have serious mother issues (seemingly more so than father issues), both go through betrayal of people they could always rely on, which eventually leads to their downfall. But when I took a look at their personal arcs, it became clear that they aren't the same (unfortunately, Vaylin's arc is very rushed and underdeveloped, but we'll have to go with what we have and my personal view, sorry).

There's a really good video about writing corruption and madness, and I'm going to base my thoughts on it. To summarise it: a good corruption arc should have 4 components:

- the character has a specific goal (or a goal and subgoals);

- in pursuit of said goal they become the cause of a significant event that brings serious consequences;

- as the result of these consequences, character abandons their morals, ideals or a code in pursuit of goal;

- character either will not achieve their goal or will succeed, but it won't be enough to satisfy them.

And then the author brings Azula's arc as one of the best examples of compelling story of corruption (so basically, she represents it perfectly). In short, Azula's main goals are perfection and control, and subgoals help achieve the main ones. In pursuit of these goals, Azula causes Mai and Ty Lee to betray her (by pushing them too far to do something they wouldn't do), which then causes her to become paranoid, which makes her to attempt controlling everything and everyone around her, *breathes* which makes her lose control over herself and ....

Now, I thought if Vaylin's arc could fit into a corruption one, and next part will be based a lot on my assumptions and personal view of her character (plus rushed writing doesn't help), but I think yes (or at least mostly). The difference is in goals, ideals and details.

While the story strongly makes us think that Vaylin's goal is freedom (or control over her life and everything around her) or power and destruction, I think it's actually self-determination (which was said by Tenebrae in 6.2) and feeling safe. Let me explain (and here I thought this would be a short comparison). Sure, when Valkorion caged Vaylin on Nathema, he took choices and control over her life from his daughter. But let's not forget whom Vaylin blames for this (even more than Valkorion): her own mother, and I think this details tell us that the most important thing that Vaylin lost on Nathema is feeling safe. Then, after Arcann brought her home, I assume Vaylin still didn't feel safe enough under Valkorion's rule, still too afraid that he'd simply send her back to that hellish place.

It's when Valkorion is struck down Vaylin finally has a feeling of personal safety, even if she isn't the one on the throne. Why? Because back on Nathema there were two people who haven't turned on her - Arcann and Thexan (yes, this is also a huge assumption, bc the game states that only Thexan visited her, but it doesn't make much sense).

I've always noticed (and I'm not alone in this) that her behavior in Fallen Empire is different from the way she acted in Eternal Throne. Most likely bc of rushed writing, but I see a character driven reason here. In first of these expansions, Vaylin is the second person in power on Zakuul, and with Arcann being in charge, person she can trust more than any other living being, she feels safe - she can test her power, and now Valkorion won't prevent it, she can do pretty much everything she wishes, and the most Arcann will do about this is mildly complain (without blaming her). Really would be nice if we got to see any normal hobbies of Vaylin (like wasn't there something about books or art?), but I digress. She might have some questions about Arcann's tactics, but they get along just fine. The important thing to note is Vaylin not seeking to hunt the Outlander personally, to rule or conquer the rest of the galaxy, or trying to achieve absolute freedom or power. She's kinda there.

This, however, changes when Arcann doesn't allow Vaylin to kill Senya. Their relationship was getting somewhat worse towards the end of KotFE, but this is a turning event Vaylin caused by attempting to strike her mother. By saving the person Vaylin blames for all the trauma from sending her to Nathema, Arcann threatened her feeling of safety. And now Vaylin starts to believing that to achieve safety she now needs to kill people who hurt her (that's why she's so determined to find Senya and Arcann), take the throne and hunt down Outlander (she was manipulated by SCORPIO to these subgoals).

(The following is the weakest, I'll admit, but I hope I can at least express what I see). So, in trying to achieve goals she didn't want before Vaylin loses in self-determination, being either driven by overwhelming anger or manipulated by others (SCORPIO or Commander on Odessen), desperately trying to accomplish anything, or even goes against her morals (like by erasing GEMINI's free will protocols, when earlier she agreed that freedom to choose is important; or breaking the deal on Odessen). All of these result in her downfall.

But even this isn't the end. The key difference between arcs of Azula Vaylin lies in it's resolution, or that Vaylin have a chance to overcome corruption in the main narrative (and Azula doesn't. again, not including comics here, sorry). After death, Vaylin is again controlled by Valkorion in Outlander's mind. First time physically (she can't resist it), second time mentally. This is where Vaylin has to choose - kill brother who betrayed her and Commander who killed her, or go against Valkorion, person responsible for almost all of her pain and trauma. She has t choose by herself, and I think it's a good start.

Now, before 6.2 we all thought Vaylin was dead for good, but that story update hinted at possibility of her coming back to life. What I like to think is that now that she dealt with people responsible for her trauma (helped defeat Valkorion and actually for once listened to Senya), Vaylin can now have a different life, finding herself with support of someone she doesn't hold a grudge against and who treats her well (Satele, I mean).

I'm so sorry for going into details, but I needed this long explanation to present the point (and I suck at explanations). As said before, this is my version of her arc, and most likely wrong interpretation, but even with personal freedom of choice, Vaylin character differs from Azula a lot.

Need I mention that Vaylin relationship with Arcann and Valkorion are drastically different from those between Azula, Zuko and Ozai?

(Also a little detail - with royal family of Fire Nation, Azula is the golden child, while with Tiralls it's actually Thexan, not Vaylin).

What's similar: role of extremely powerful, emotionally damaged daughter with little to no regard towards others, close people betraying them, resulting in their downfall.

What's different: characterization, role in the narrative, relationship with father and brother.

Arcann and Zuko is the most difficult part, but I still believe that calling Arcann just a cheap copy of Zuko is incorrect.

So, they fall into role of less successful son, always getting disapproval from father, being in shadow of more talented sibling, both obsessed with capturing the main character but ending up helping them end the war after going through a redemption arc with help of caring family member. Even both have scars on left side of face. Yeah, seems similar. I still think they are different characters.

Let's start with their relationships with family. In Valkorion section I said that his attitude towards Arcann is similar to that of Ozai towards Zuko, so not going to spend too much time here. However, there's slight difference - Zuko didn't kill his father even he had a perfect opportunity (bc it wasn't his goal), Arcann did (bc it was one of his goals), which says something about their characterizations.

Zuko and Ursa were shown to have a good mother-son relationship, and it played a role in Zuko's character. With Arcann and Senya, we don't really know (not much was shown in expansions). We know Arcann didn't hate his mother, but possibly didn't have warm memories of her either. The reason is most likely, like Senya said, her children wanted nothing to do with her (which is a bit untrue about Vaylin, but okay) and leaned more towards Valkorion. We need to remember that on Zakuul Valkorion isn't just one of many great leaders, he's the greatest, and seen as a god by most citizens, so safe to assume the same would apply to his children as well.

Zuko and Azula's siblingship (i'm out of words) is a bit similar to Arcann and Vaylin's in way of brother knowing that his sister isn't good, but still caring about them (even if not showing). At least it's what I saw. What's different is how Azula treats Zuko, compared to how Vaylin treats Arcann. I think Azula showed compassion or concern for Zuko maybe twice, but I'm not entirely convinced that it was 100% sincere. Vaylin, on the other hand, seems to trust and care about Arcann (with bits of sass and questioning his life choices), and switching to complete opposite after him saving Senya. Also, I don't she ever called Arcann a failure in their father's eyes.

Now I want to say that their roles in stories aren't the same either. Sure, both are introduced to us as antagonists, but in reality, Zuko was never a true antagonist (we get to learn this somewhere mid-season 1), when Arcann remains the main antagonist for whole of KotFE. Zuko didn't start a war and didn't participate in conquest of other nations too much, his main goal was to capture the Avatar so to restore his honor (and deserve his father's forgiveness). Honestly, I think it's safe to say the Zuko is one of two main protagonists of ATLA. Why does Arcann want to capture the Outlander? Solely because his father's spirit still lives inside this person's mind, and the best solution to keep Valkorion away from the galaxy is not letting the Outlander free (hence the carbonite freezing). And Arcann doesn't want or need Valkorion's forgiveness when he attempts to kill him (or kills him, depending on your choice. anyway, his action directly leads to Valkorion's "death"). And right after that he becomes a ruler of Zakuul and begins the conquest of Republic, Sith Empire and everything he can reach (the reasoning behind this is still unclear to me though; maybe because he was raised with ruling Zakuul in mind and he didn't anything else, idk). Point is, he's responsible for war and main's character imprisonment, which makes him the main antagonist of KotFE. They have it the opposite ways - Zuko starts as disgraced prince, supported by a little group of people, and in the end he's recognized and appreciated by his nation, and Arcann starts as respected by his empire, later becoming less and less loved, until some groups start rebelling his rule, and in the end he doesn't get to rule Zakuul again.

This leads me to their morals. See, Zuko didn't have the worst morals in Fire Nation, even more, he expressed care for loyals soldiers of his nation before getting punished by Ozai. During first season (and about a half of second one) his views on other nations are what he was taught before. However, these views are challenged by travelling in Earth Kingdom, witnessing people suffering from war Fire Nation started and hating its people (you already know all of this), and with this he comes through final stage of redemption when he's back home. Unfortunately, Arcann doesn't go through this, and he's shown to be more ruthless.

Alright, when it comes to their redemption arcs, well let's say they are different (both in quality and the way they go through it), I'm just a bit tired of long explanations at this point. Zuko's arc is one of the best ever put on television, and Arcann's... well, it definitely has potential, but is criminally underdeveloped (there are other people who will explain it better than I ever could).

What's similar: role of disgraced son, living in shadow of their sibling, serious injuries on the left side of face (though with different meanings), obsession with capturing the main character, having a redemption arc.

What's different: role in the narrative, role in their society, characterization, relationship with sister and mother, different end goals (before redemption), paths to redemption.

#ah. ofc it didn't show in the tag bc of the youtube link. ofc. gonna be down bc of this)#hey look at me rambling about something only maybe 2 people take seriously #also i noticed that parental characters are better in swtor and children characters are better in atla. do what you want with this #it's 3:30 am i should be sleeping but here instead writing this #(forgive if i have some spelling mistakes. brain shutting down but i won't be at peace if i don't post it right now)#okay so if you have thoughts on this... you really don't have to waste time on this #i really only wrote this because i was annoyed by some peeps on reddit claiming vaylin is off-brand with a straight face #(and then posted this on tumblr bc i don't want to suffer those people on reddit)#what am i doing with my time #(not gonna tag atla bc it's not really about it)#swtor #arcann #vaylin #valkorion #senya tirall #kotfe #kotet #pauletta's babbling #pls send help #(or oc aks to give me some free serotonin but no obligations ofc)

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moonstarinfinity · 3 years ago

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✨TXT Group Astrological Chart Analysis✨

What is TXT like as a group? How does their group astrology affect their music, their relationships within the group as a whole, and how they harness success and popularity?

Lets explore their group chart, and find out!

💫 Chart Patterns

First their chart patterns: TXT has a bundle chart concentrated in the Western Hemisphere of their chart and basically this means that they have a very focused and intense energy around them. This energy is likely felt when they perform on stage and helps them attract opportunities for their group. They tend to be exceptionally resourceful and talented, and reap a lot of awards. This can be seen in things like being the highest charting debut group at their time of debut, and their exceptional amount of award nominations and wins as a rookie group. Most recently their comeback is scheduled for May 31st, 2021 and it was reported that they sold more than 520,000 pre-orders for their new album within just 6 days of it being announced. No doubt they will continue to reap rewards and be successful based on their chart patterns alone.

💫 Personal Planets

Sun in Pisces - 6th House

Let me preface this with: Holy heck this placement makes a ton of sense. TXT has a tendency to create other worlds and they are fantastic story tellers. They use metaphors and imagery to connect to their fans, and Pisces Suns are all about being in the world, but not necessarily of this world.

They literally have a song about imagination called "Blue Hour" and Pisces is all about imagination. This placement is the heart of TXT and you can see it's influence heavily in their music and concepts.

Pisces Suns tend to connect to alternate dimensions and explore them to bring back information and understanding. This allows them to connect and help humanity heal, and I know this is more on the metaphysical side of astrology, but I agree that TXT uses their bring colors, stories, and imagination to help people feel understood and to help others see things in a different way.

Now Sun in the 6th is all about routine and health, and this placement displays in their desire to improve the world around them. Pisces is a very nurturing energy in this space, and the Sun is about illumination. It's a very selfless placement and can indicate a massive desire to help others and is also seen as a spiritual placement. One could say they connect to people on a spiritual or soul level through their music.

Within the group this placement helps them to work together well and they all are very caring and helpful with each other. It helps to form a stronger bond between members, and they often times help each other heal while performing and creating. It's a very team oriented placement, and very selfless, which is great for a group. They tend to put work first, which makes sense...because this is a chart for their group.

Moon in Aquarius - 5th House

UNIQUE. That is the definition of an Aquarius. In the 5th house this is especially noticeable because this is the placement that expresses their uniqueness. There's just something about TXT that makes them seem so different...and this placement is part of that.

Aquarius in the 5th can be a rebel, and often times is not afraid to do what feels right for them, even if it feels out of the norm, or is somewhat of a risk. We can see this in TXT's unique sound and dualistic approach to their music.

The 5th house is also about creativity, and there is ZERO lack of creativity for TXT. The Moon being here allows for them to use creativity to express their emotions, as well as help others feel their emotions that are placed into these creative outlets.

The moon in Aquarius loves to be around friends. There is nurturing in feeling a part of the team for each member of TXT, and this is a tight knit friend group that is much more than just coworkers. They feel free and comfortable amongst each other, and this vibe also makes their fans feel cared for like they are their best friends.

This placement can be seen as a trailblazing and independent placement that allows for freedom of expression and emotions in unique and vibrant ways. It creates that friendly, bring, and sometimes even hilarious nature to TXT as a whole.

Ascendant in Virgo - 1st House

Organized. Reliable. Grounded. This is how the group operates. They tend to be very good about making sure that they are doing what is needed, when it is needed. They also are a support system. Not only for their fans, but amongst themselves as well. This creates a really strong foundation. Virgo generally rules the 6th house of routine, health, and coworkers. This really helps ground and bring a down to earth vibe to the team. With their high energy and placements that can tend to be in the clouds a lot, this helps to bring their ideas back down to the ground.

Sometimes the group can have a hard time with trying to maintain their expectations of perfection with this placement. Virgo tends to be perfectionistic and almost too structured when it's in the first house. Thankfully their sun and moon placements DEFINITELY balance this out. They often times have to lean more into those placements to offset the stress that this ascendant can bring.

They are likely VERY hard on themselves when schedules don't go as planned, mistakes are made, or they are in a rut. Time is really important to this placement, but thankfully it also helps them create plans and stick to their schedule.

They are honest and extremely stable because of this placement, which sets them up to be around for a long time. Which is exactly what we like to hear and see when we look at group placements. They also LOVE to work with this placement, and because they are living their passions it's a very harmonious placement as a group.

Observant, intelligent, and love to share knowledge and wisdom. This displays in their music. They are clever with their lyrics, concepts, and sound. This placement really supports their Moon's need to create new things, and creates a stable feeling when experimenting.

Mercury in Pisces - 7th House

This is the placement that shows what their content is about and how they like to communicate, and what they like to communicate about. First of all let me just say this is the 7th house. Mercury in the 7th is all about communicating love, commitment, partnership, and beauty.

Mercury in Pisces as a group expresses through lyrics and sounds that are soulful, deep, intuitive, and compassionate. In this case extremely compassionate.

Pisces is DEEP and it's usually about your inner world, so as a group they have a deep understanding of the inner workings when it comes to relationships, love, and beauty.

This is a naturally artistic placement and is SUPER conductive for art and music. It's like a supercharge for their sound. This creates melodies, lyrics, and visuals (music videos, concepts, art, etc.) that are extremely attractive. Think about how "Runaway" was so catchy right out the gate and how the music video was super aesthetically pleasing.

This is why their music videos and concepts are so visually stunning. This is why their songs are so catchy. This is why you can listen to the same song over and over.

As a group they also may be less likely to be direct with their lyrics (hence why they use storytelling and metaphor) because Mercury is technically muted in Pisces. I don't really see this as a negative for a musical group though, because honestly it just makes them that much more magnetic.

Venus in Aquarius - 5th House

ENERGY. This is a placement that exudes energy, and we can see this reflected in their upbeat and catchy music style. They love to make songs that are high energy, and that you can dance to.

This is a very good placement for love and in Aquarius this is the love of a team, of the group, and a love for their fans. It's all about love and living life to the fullest.

They have a HUGE desire to create ultimate happiness. They use their music as a way to spread positive vibes, and to help people feel pumped up, or cared for.

This also brings a very playful nature to the group. This placement can be seen in songs such as "Cat & Dog." Bright colors, childlike wonder, humor. It's all a part of this placement.

They love to work as a team, and they find that in their team they are more inspired and create more freely than when they are on their own. It brings them energy and drive and passion to work together.

This placement also makes sense with how young they all were at debut, and even as they get older, their music will continue to draw in people that are younger than them. They are fresh and playful. Think the flirting with a crush vibe, and that's what this placement is for them.

Mars in Taurus - 8th House

Mars in Taurus is all about strength and stability. But in the 8th house this can almost come off as overly aggressive. Sometimes their passion can be very strong and this can cause there to be a lot of fire under them.

This is actually good for the most part because it can help them be expressive, and they actually have a great outlet for all of their passion. It simply means that as a while they have a lot of passion and as long as they channel it into their music and art, then it's a powerhouse placement.

They do need to make sure they are keeping any materialism and greed in check, but thankfully it's not really just their choice as a group when it comes to what they do. Ultimately since this is a group placement they are less likely to give in to the shadow sides of this placement.

It can actually benefit them to communicate about struggles with materialism, drama, and their outspoken nature through their music. They generally HAVE to share these things, and they will find that the more that they grow the more that they transform, and this is something that they find is necessary to communicate.

They can be influenced by those around them, so pressure from society or other groups can be a little hard to navigate at times, so there is a challenge to stay true to themselves, and to let go of styles, and people that aren't meant for them.

This is another HIGHLY spiritual placement. They love to explore the occult, mysteries, puzzles, paranormal, and the spiritual world. Just look at their entire collection as a whole and you can see these influences playing a HUGE part in their work.

They are led to follow their instincts, and their instincts are usually right. Their purpose as a group is to live authentically as themselves and to use their power as a way to live their fullest potential. To follow their passions and to let themselves transform as a group over time. This is what will keep them going and will give them the greatest success as a whole.

Jupiter in Sagittarius - 4th House

This is so lucky. Like I'm jealous of this group placement honestly. Jupiter is at home in Sagittarius and it is the planet of luck, abundance, and expansion. Think BIG. They attract luck, opportunities, and abundance.

Confidence, positivity, enthusiasm, optimism. This brings all of those things too. Yet another placement that helps them with that energetic, upbeat sound.

The 4th house is all about family, and this means that they value family and with this being Jupiter and Sagittarius they see the whole world as home. They see their fans as their family, and their music as their creations.

Speaking of creations they are aspected to have a LOT of creations. They probably are constantly creating, even when they are not having a comeback. These creations tend to also continually bring more and more people to them.

This placement makes them appealing among a worldwide scale and for large crowds because they make people feel like they are a part of their family. They love seeking the largest scale of possibilities for outreach, and this is part of why they are recognized around the world.

They have boundless energy, and this is wonderful for them, but they also need to make sure that at times they are taking a step back and looking at the big picture. They need to respond to their intuition, but they also need to make sure they are taking calculated risks.

Saturn in Capricorn - 4th House

This is all about ambition and making your mark. Saturn is not necessarily happy in the 4th house, and it can feel overbearing sometimes for the group to go the traditional route.

This placement directly conflicts with their needs and desires to go against the grain and be unique. It can be very difficult for them at times to ignore what other people expect of them, and they may feel like the weight is on their shoulders as a group sometimes.

This is a challenge in the sense that they often have to break away from making things appealing based on what they already know. They need to challenge this placement and be nurturing towards their creations. At times they may find that they are drawn to play it safe when it comes to emotions and their stability.

A challenge for them is definitely to go with the flow, and to not give in to their perfectionistic ways when it comes to safety. Things in life constantly change, and playing it safe will often times make them feel trapped or uninspired if they let it.

Saturn is helping them to build maturity, a foundation, and a "family" with their fans slowly over time. We will see their music develop and mature as they get older, along with them as people.

They will always have a sense of responsibility, and they need to make sure they don't take that feeling too seriously. It's about learning to be responsible, while still staying nurturing and loving as a group.

All of this development is also seen on a global scale, as far as they will continue to grow in fan base size, and this will increase their feelings of responsibility, and continue to challenge them as a group. (This is due to Jupiter being here.) Thankfully they have so many lighthearted and loving placements to lean into, that this is a beneficial grounding force for them as a whole.

One piece of advice for TXT: You are already loved and appreciated and successful. Allow yourselves to be children at heart. Keep expressing your inner children in your music, and know that your fans are here to support you. You are not responsible for the world, or for everyone else. Find happiness and fulfillment by continuing to express your hopes, fears, dreams, and emotions through your creations.

💫 Transpersonal Planets:

Uranus in Aries - 8th House

This is a boss placement! This is the placement that drives them to go where nobody has gone before. They are visionaries as a group. They are instigators of change, and they love to blaze their own path as a group. They may partake in using new technologies, diving into projects that have never been seen before, and creating new ways of doing things.

They NEED their freedom. They are courages, brave, daring as a group. They don't fear much when it comes to change and being different.

They have strong view points as a group and sometimes can be a little stubborn when challenged, but ultimately it's because they are meant to go their own way and be different. They are meant to defy tradition and go against the grain.

They may at times break taboos or traditions, and this can be a challenge for them if they either let their Saturn placement stifle them, or on the other end, if they don't observe before acting. Their impatience could potentially cause them to jump too soon, or to do things in a rush, so they need to make sure to slow down sometimes, but to continue to chase the new.

Neptune in Pisces - 6th House

"'Cause imagination, in that moment. Can you feel the rush? Freeze this moment." - Blue Hour. This is exactly what this placement is about.

Neptune in Pisces blurs the lines between imagination and reality. They have a way of bringing dreams and imagination to life. Really this is their entire chart basically. Like it's just part of who they are.

This is what brings the magic to their music. It allows them to really infuse their music and work with imagination and dreams. It's an ideal placement for working in art, music, emotions, and the subconscious. It's another spiritual placement, so again they may speak on metaphysical things or show imagery related to the spiritual side of life and the inner world.

They will not likely create music that has to do with normal life things. They don't generally do the "normal" stuff and their topics will always be very deep and transformational.

As a group when relating to their careers as a whole, they need to make sure that they take care of the practical stuff sometimes. Thankfully they have managers and staff that help them with this, so they have a lot of freedom and less challenges when it comes to the more difficult parts of this placement.

Pluto in Capricorn - 4th House

This is a beautiful placement honestly. It gives them the drive to be efficient and bring their ideas to life. This is the placement of determination and achievement. This is resourceful and will give them an organized approach to success.

The downside is that they may tend to clash with authority and control. They may need to find ways to slow down, and build over time instead of trying to do everything at once. They need to be careful not to cut corners, and they need to make sure they are doing things one step at a time, instead of trying to rush to the finish line on projects.

They can find that they have exceptional focus and are able to harness their ideas and energies and emotions and use them to propel their group. They have always, and will continue to, skyrocket in success, especially if they can continue to ground their ideas while allowing themselves to be creatively and emotionally free.

Their music will help people break free from societal norms when it comes to control and power. It encourages people to be free, childlike, and to express their own viewpoints and feelings.

💫 Aspects:

Cancer North Node - 11th House

For group astrology this tells us the group's impact on the world and what the purpose of the group is.

This placement tells us that TXT has a destiny to nurture themselves and their fans and to help people to trust their intuition. To express their emotions and dreams, and to find a place within themselves that feels like home.

Let go of control and know that the earth is still beneath your feet, even when you allow yourself to fly. Believe in wonder and imagination, encourage your inner children and don't always try to be the responsible one.

They encourage people to soften and be playful and loving. That's their ultimate purpose. To create a safe space and help people heal and connect to themselves emotionally, and to be their own home regardless of what is going on in the world.

Finally they teach the world about loving, and authentic friendships, about what real community is, and how to find your tribe of people.

Aries Chiron - 7th House

Basically with this chiron placement the group gives people a place to feel a sense of inclusion. They help people feel as thought they have a purpose. To make those who feel like outcasts, feel like they belong. As a whole the group is inclusive and has a childlike energy. This energy attracts the inner children. This can attract other people with Chiron in Aries in order to help them heal. This is how they use this placement to their advantage.

Now as a group they may also seek approval at all costs, and they rely a lot on MOA to support them. They are very sensitive to bad feedback and criticism and would have a hard time if their group took a hit in any way via media. They may get discouraged sometimes as a group if they don't feel like they performed well, and this can cause tension within the group, but if they channel this into their music it will give them the boost they need to move forward.

Aries is very upbeat, so their music is naturally upbeat to offset the Aries and 7th house Chiron wounds that they attract. This can help people by getting them to dance and expend energy that is no longer needed, and their lyrics are usually about growing up and fitting in, while learning how to be yourself, which is exactly what the Aries Chiron needs.

They also have Chiron in the 7th house which means that they attract the energy of people who feel like something is missing. Which means that TXT as a group treats their fans like their best friends or relationship. MOA literally is TXT's significant other. that's what completes them and allows them to continue making music and helping others heal these wounds.

They have a strong focus on friendship (see North Node in the 11th, and their Aquarius placements in the 5th) and this can also help those with the 7th house Chiron to feel included and to fill the void they feel just a little because it shows that someone else understands them, and their need to feel included in a personal relationship.

Midheaven (MC) - Gemini

It should come as ZERO shock that this placement indicates a career in public influence.

They are meant to drive others and inspire passion when it comes to their world views and interests. They are meant to communicate their thoughts and feelings and emotions on a large, public scale.

Global change through their music. Their lyrics, sound, and aesthetics reach on a global scale in order to inspire and change the world.

💫 SUMMARY:

Hopefully this gives you an idea of who TXT is as a whole. They are a transformative, upbeat, passionate, and impactful group. They connect to childlike, playful, and energetic personalities. It's their purpose to help people become inspired, imaginative, and to connect to their inner worlds on an emotional and transformational level. They are extremely talented and lucky as a whole, and as long as they keep following their passions and hearts they will continue to grow and be a game changing group. We've attached their group natal chart below for anyone who is curious as to what it looks like.

Now go Stan TXT, listen to all of their albums, and enjoy their new comeback: "0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You.)"

youtube

🎶✨💜

#TXT #TXT Astrology #Kpop #Kpop astrology #Astrology #Tomorrow by together #Group astrology #event astrology #Group chart #MOA #TXT MOA #Tomorrow by together astrology #yeonjun #soobin #heuningkai #beomgyu #Taehyun

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thepageofhopes · 3 years ago

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Undertale Multiverse Classpects Part 1/??

It’s inevitable once I get super into something that I do this.

I will most likely do more characters but for now I started with just some of the biggest characters of the multiverse/underverse specifically.

Explanations will be under the cut. Long, long, explanations. (Almost 3k words!)

Error: Bard of Time Ink: Rogue of Space Nightmare: Knight of Doom Dream: Page of Life Cross: Witch of Blood XChara: Prince of Heart XGaster: Thief of Light

Most of this was done using the theories of 0pacfica, whose amazing classpect theory posts can be found on Ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960270

Though this was also cross referenced with bladekindeyewear’s older theories (particularly on the roles of the classes and active/passive pairs) and a sprinkling of the extended zodiac.

So this is another classpect where it’s actually easier to do in pairs for a lot of the characters due to how intertwined they are.

Error: Bard of Time

Ink: Rogue of Space

When starting with these two, it really was a giant debate between me and my friends about whether Ink and Error were time and space or hope and rage. It was very hard to move away from Hope/Rage when it represents unchecked creation and destruction which...is pretty much the entire backbone of underverse, but after lots of back and forth we found Time and Space fit better overall.

It’s useful to think of Space as Beginnings and Time as Endings. Ultimately what Ink does is facilitate a bunch of new beginnings. Ink is also all about the growth of the multiverse, which is the closest analogue we really have to Skaia. Hope may be creation, but it is creation as counter to the greater narrative, and often counter to Skaia and the reproduction of the universe. On the flip side, Rage, while being destruction, is generally destruction of anything non-fundamental. Error, by contrast, does not care what is being destroyed. His goal is ultimately the end to the multiverse itself; the end of the narrative. Time and Space are also the main building blocks of the universe and without them sessions become void. Ink and Error ultimately represent the core of the multiverse and are also key in most of the big multiverse spanning stories. As well, there’s really no escaping how similar Error and Caliborn act in both personality and actions.

Finally, looking at the extended zodiac, even their personalities fit decently well, though mostly Ink and Space. While classpect is actually much more about narrative arcs and roles than personalities, it’s still useful to look at the most personality based descriptions of the extended zodiac. Space has the description ‘They are patient, masters of the art of 'wait-and-see', and are inclined to take things as they come. That isn't to say that they're pushovers or willing to let injustice lie-they just choose their battles wisely, understanding that sometimes you have to let something burn to the ground in order to build it back better and stronger than before. To this effect, they tend to be innovators, concerned with creation and redemption.‘ and if that doesn’t describe Ink in underverse at least, then nothing else does. Time is a little less fitting personality wise for Error, but these few bits are pertinent: ‘Their lives are often marked by struggle, not so much because fate has it in for them, but because they are fundamentally incapable of just accepting things as they come.’ ‘At their worst they are ruthless, defensive, and impulsive.‘

So now that Aspect is out of the way, I can explain classes. Let’s start with the easy one first. There’s no way we could have Error as anything other than a destroyer class, so Bard or Prince had to be one of the titles. Then from there it comes down to whether Error is active or passive. While it may be easy to say ‘well he actively destroys things’ it’s useful to remember someone's powers can look very similar even if active or passive. My go to for this is Roxy who despite being a passive void class, ultimately can still actively steal nothingness from concepts.

And I have to ask- does Error really actively use his aspect? Because I don’t think so. There’s a popular fan concept of Error as a ‘Forced god of Destruction’ that I think really cements this. Time as an aspect tends to also represent Fate, and if there’s a character who has been actively fucked over by Fate, it’s Error. Even from his time as Genos, Error has been the butt monkey of terrible circumstances. 0pacifica talks about ‘Student’ classes (Thieves, Seers, and Bards) as one where the aspect changes the player, and if that doesn’t describe Error just.

Also it gives Error a codpiece and isn’t that just fucking perfect.

So onto the harder class to explain- Ink being a Rogue. Unlike the Destroyer class, there’s no ‘Creator’ class to nicely fit Ink into (although some suspect that the Heal class of Sylph and most likely Maid class can double as both Heal and Create) but even then, Ink doesn’t really actively create. Rather he tends to try and inspire creators to create. For Ink it made more sense to use 0pacifica’s chart to lower down the class, and then make sure the powers still fit from there.

To start with, there’s no way Ink is anything but a mutualist class. Both Ink and the multiverse benefit from Ink’s role in the multiverse. But even more telling that Ink is a mutualist class is the line in the flowchart ‘The story is not complete until I have accomplished what I have set out to do or found another way to satisfy my initial impulse.’ From the start of Underverse at least to now (though I also suspect to the end of Underverse) the story has been driven by Ink’s actions and motivations. There wouldn’t be a story without him, for good or ill.

From there using the chart, it was easy to lower it down to Rogue or Knight. Ink really isn’t changed or used by their aspect, unlike Error. So it really comes down to does Ink use his aspect or change his aspect. From here I really like 0pacifica’s one sentence descriptions. Rogue is ‘I change my aspect to a more useful form’ while Knight is ‘I use my aspect like a tool’. Eventually we decided on Rogue because Ink doesn’t really actively use his aspect- he’s much more about inspiration- allowing others to steal his ideas, if you will ;P. He ultimately changes other beginnings in service both to the multiverse and himself- squeezing them for paint so he can keep feeling.

Also Rogue just kind of fits Ink’s aesthetic with that cute little bandit mask

What’s really cool is these two classes are also on opposite ends of the ‘Reinvent/Change’ segment of the class chart.

Hopefully this is the longest segment..

Nightmare: Knight of Doom

Dream: Page of Life

Here’s another pair we really had to decide between Hope/Rage for and Doom/Life. But honestly there wasn’t actually a lot of debate. If Doom is Stasis and Inertia, then that fits Nightmare’s ultimate goal to a T. If Nightmare gets his way, the entire multiverse will be plunged into negativity, and with no contrast, everything would just be mired in the same. In contrast to both Nightmare and in particular, Ink, Dream is all about growth and making things better. Joku has specifically stated that Dream and Ink had a falling out due to this- Dream doesn’t care about creator intentions or their story. If there is someone suffering, Dream wants to fix it.

Another way these two fit is in something 0pacifica observes regarding Doom and Life players- Life players come from ‘the top of the pile’ with every advantage behind them, while Doom players come from the ‘bottom of the heap’ with everything working against them. From their beginnings Dream has always been put upon a pedestal, with the love and adoration of the villagers surrounding them, while Nightmare was always hated, always considered as a problem before he has any type of sway over negativity. In actuality, they were born equal, but the circumstances of which side they happened to represent tilted them in their respective directions.

For the extended zodiac, since Nightmare is such a terrible person, even more so than Error in a lot of ways, means that it’s not as useful. The descriptions ar emeant for people to identify with after all, and no one is gonna self-identify with being told they are a monster. There is a bit of the extended zodiac we can use though, and that’s Nightmare as a commiserator. In underverse he gains Cross’s trust by empathizing (in a way) with his negativity, and he surrounds himself with crew that have been in as bad circumstances as he has been. Life however, has a great section that fits Dream perfectly: ‘ Those bound to the aspect of Life are the universe's healers. They are concerned with the betterment of themselves and those around them, as well as the onward march of positive progress. Deeply empathetic, they have an intuitive understanding of other's suffering and the best way of righting those wrongs.’

When looking at classes, we considered the Commensalist sections for both Dream and Nightmare for a while. But we ultimately decided against that specifically with the line that ‘my accomplishments and failings are purviews of the fringes of the narrative’ which just can’t be true for two beings so fundamental to the multiverse. Indeed, you’ll actually see none of the characters in this post fall under this side specifically because I started with the most ‘important’ characters. We ultimately decided on mutualist for Nightmare- despite his ‘bottom of the heap’ status, he ultimately tends to take control of the narrative, and much of underverse and even a lot of fan works are centered around his actions, much like Ink. Dream, by contrast, is constantly fighting an uphill battle and for most of underverse is more a pawn than any true figure of movement in the story. Parasitic fits quite well for poor Dream who no matter what ending of Joku’s story you go by, always dies.

There really is no other character who quite wields their aspect and powers to their advantage like Nightmare. I really can’t find a lot to add here, it was a pretty unambiguous choice and had very little debate in our classpect talk. All his manipulations are steeped in death and decay and well, negativity, all which fall under Doom. Knight is theorized to be the active Exploit class which fits nicely into 0pacifica’s class descriptions. So, for Dream, looking under parasitism, Dream doesn’t really change his aspect, he’s pretty much defined by Life. This lowered it down to Prince and Page. Dream, unlike Nightmare, isn’t really an active manipulator of his aspect and of his positivity. It’s more a part of him, and thus Page, who in the flowchart literally uses the line ‘I am defined by my aspect’ seemed to be the perfect fit.

Like Ink and Error, these two are also opposites on the ‘manifest’ side of classes, and even better, Knight is the active Exploit class while Page is the passive exploit class.

Thank god this section was actually shorter

Cross: Witch of Blood

XChara: Prince of Heart

While these two characters aren’t opposites in aspect or class, it’s useful to talk about both of these two at once both because of how closely they are tied together, but also because how similar their goals and narrative journeys are in general.

Basically with aspect it came down to Blood and Heart for both of them. The more material aspects really have nothing to do with either of them, both of them are much more focused on narrative meaning. Light/Void is out of the question as when it comes down to it, through all their posturing, they ultimately are much more focused on themselves than any kind of big picture or big over-arching questions on the nature of reality. This also phases out Mind for both of them. And finally, this sentence on Breath is about as anti Cross/XChara as it comes: ‘what’s meaningful and important is discovering something new, expanding that perspective, broadening the meaning-horizon and rising above the mere material of the world until ‘tradition’ is a speck of dust on a marble’.

Ultimately we went with Blood for Cross over Heart. Cross is primarily motivated by the past in a way XChara really isn’t. Hell, one of the main reasons Cross decided to fight against Frisk and XChara in Timeline X was because the timeline they were currently in was a happy place for him and the rest of the monsters. Cross is also shown to utilize bonds- it’s a vision of Cross that stops XChara in his fight against Swap/Blue. XChara, on the other hand, is much more focused on the idea of control and being in control, because they know what’s best better than anyone else. Heart is appropriately labeled as ‘egoism’ in 0pacifica’s chart and if there’s one thing XChara has, it’s an ego. There’s also the line ‘Heart is the reading into and reading out of, the situating of what’s been read in the personal and the familiar, the reshaping and reinterpreting of the text outside of the author’s hands.’ If we see XGaster as an author, then what better describe’s XChara’s role?

Honestly the extended zodiac isn’t really great for these two, once again due to the fact they are largely negative and corrupted characters. Most of what’s there isn’t truly yet in the text but implied in the opening to Underverse Season 2 (Cross being a leader through inspiration) or something that I’ve basically already covered (Heart being self-obsessed). This is long enough already so lets just move on.

There’s no way either of them are anything other than a parasitic class. ‘I could beat myself bloody against the bars of the narrative and still get no closer to the form of success I personally desire’ describes both of their experiences in XTale and Season 1 perfectly. (’All my efforts were for nothing..’) As well, for how much these characters were corrupted and damaged throughout the course of Underverse, what changed them was much more outside forces than anything having to do with their aspect- they both tend to own their aspect.

XChara is pretty definitively a Prince- He is incredibly talented at utilizing his own personal potential and even his own ego to advance his own agenda, even as it actively fucks him over. And how do his overwrite powers manifest? A complete domination of others personalities and identity. He destroys others identities and personal narratives. Cross is a tough one because most of what we’ve seen of his powers and actions have been actively manipulated by XChara whose very aspect dominates identity. But one thing that we very much see in Underverse is how Cross actively forces other people to team up and form bonds to stop him. This forwards the narrative while being actively detrimental to Cross himself. And finally, one of the last moments we see with the new Cross at the end of season 1 is him actively changing his bond/deal with Nightmare to save Dream, which gives Dream the determination and ability to escape to the Omega Timeline with the other survivors. Unfortunately most of what is in the actual text isn’t super concrete but there is enough foreshadowing and implications of where Cross’s character is going to go that Witch just ‘feels’ like the right fit.

Whew I was afraid this was somehow going to be as long/longer than the first segment

XGaster: Thief of Light

This one should hopefully be fairly short as if there was a classpect title there was the least amount of debate and back and forth on, XGaster was it.

There’s no way XGaster isn’t Light. The literal second I saw the sentence of Light that says ‘There is one answer’ there was no way he could be anything else. XGaster’s entire storyline is about finding/creating the one true perfect universe. Essentially, in classpect and narrative terms, his entire narrative is about the Search for truth and meaning. Which is literally the sentence used to describe Light in 0pacifica’s writeup.

In the interest of wrapping. this. shit. up. I’m just gonna post this section from the Light part of the extended zodiac. It feels fairly self explanatory. ‘The Light-bound will go after knowledge with a fierce intensity that others may find distasteful. They aren't overly concerned with laws or norms, either. They often take rules as simple suggestions, instead searching for loopholes or work-arounds.’

Class is where I will probably actually have to explain a little more. I don’t think mutualist is anything I really need to extensively justify- the narrative of Underverse bends to accommodate the goals of Ink and XGaster, basically everything I said about Ink also works with XGaster with how closely they are tied.

The fundamental shift of XGaster’s narrative arc and even personality is all based around knowledge. He learns from Ink that other multiverses exist and in that instant it sets him on a new path. Thieves are all about acquiring more of their aspect to change and benefit themselves, and XGaster literally gathers ideas and knowledge from other universes to create and enrich his own. I know it’s cheeky to not have just one but two canon titles, but they undeniably fit.

Also he sure does have all the irons in the fire *shot*

Aaaaaaaaaaand we’re done! Look how fast that last segment went.

#undertale #utmv #underverse #homestuck #undertale multiverse

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writingonesdreams · 3 years ago

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Hey! I was looking around your tags for any information on how you planned to link music to your magic (perhaps it's me being illiterate with tumblr not being able to find much)

Could you ramble about some rules and abilities that your music magic has? you connect the elements of water and air, which seems logical, but I wanna grill you for more 😂

can you ramble about it and give us an example(s) of how it works, and what it can do? (:

- @bloodlessheirbyjacques

Technically you could use music to address any of the five elements, but air and water tend to be the easiest.

I will talk about songs as one of the ways to use music for magic control, since it's the one focused on through Adele :D.

Songs are special, because there are melodies and songs that always provide a response, that are the "classic" proven tunes that always work. Mages have paved their way to magic through these songs, so they are the first ones learned, the ones an art mage is always supposed to remember and fall back upon.

Art mages of any element spend their first 15 years not just strengthening their connection to magic but also by training their voices and hearing like any singer wanting to go pro. Certain degree of talent is also needed here.

Next five years are spend training the classic songs, about 100 of the most universal ones and then other 1.000 in the focus they want to aim for. There are weather, art, combat, agriculture and other various directions the art mage can choose.

Then comes the phase at uni where they learn to make their own songs. Original songs tend to be very specific at first. The more personal and honestly open the song's lyrics and melodies the more powerful the effect can be - ofc under consideration of the concrete place, time and aim going for.

So it really comes to these factors: skill of the singer + originality + emotional honesty/identification with the song + specific conditions of the place and situation + the aim. It also takes physical energy. The more the mage is trying to change natural state of things, the more energy is needed. Like if you wanted to make already strong going wind stronger it will cost less energy that completely stopping it or changing its direction.

New songs are really hard cause the magic is very choosy and unpredictable in response :D. Mages never know why which melody works and why certain of them can become classics that can be used by others and others don't. Also using a song of someone else doesn't have to work or more precisely doesn't work if it doesn't personally fit you & you misunderstand the message behind the song.

But it is proven that original songs can have much much more powerful effect that the classic ones. They can also stop working from one day to another, when the message of the song doesn't fit the mage anymore/their emotions change.

Thank you for the question & feel free to tell me if it makes sense :D

#writeblr #wip: sky of shards #magic system #art magic #music magic

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

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Hello! So, something that always intrigued me is the concept of “reverse aus,” and I’ve been thinking about that in the context of Cobra Kai for a while now. How do you think it would go down if Demetri was the one to get roped into Cobra Kai? Obviously, I don’t think he would be as into as Eli canonically was (probably due to it becoming a special interest for him), but I’d be curious to hear your take on it. Would Eli end up going to Miyagi-Do like canon Demetri did, or would Demetri and Eli sort of become the new Evil Karate Husbands™️? And possibly, how do you think Demetri and Johnny’s dynamic would go? (I’m just going to awkwardly add that this is cc-tinslebee, coming to you live from my main blog because I don’t think Tumblr let’s sideblogs send asks-)

So this is actually the SECOND ask I’ve gotten about this scenario--Cherry sent in another one!--so I figured I’d give it a stab. Took me a while to work out how I think it would go and how everything would play out different if Demetri and Eli’s roles were reversed, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I tried to make it more interesting than just “Demetri does all the stuff Eli does and Eli does all the stuff Demetri does.”

Also I lowkey LOVE the idea of Evil Karate Husbands and even though that isn’t the direction this particular AU goes in, I might do a divergent spin-off AU to explore that too??? Because man...the thought of Miguel desperately trying to save his two best friends who have fallen to the dark side...*cries*

Fair warning that this AU is gonna get dark as shit--I fully belive things would’ve gotten equally fucked up between them in a role reverse AU, just, ah...in slightly different ways. A lot of this will not be Happy Times later on, much like their canon relationship XD

OKAY TIME FOR PAIN, LET’S GOOOO

Longboi post so be warned!!!

Season 1

After getting his ass handed to him--for trying to stick up for Eli, no less--Demetri was pissed. Why the hell was he paying some guy to beat him up for daining to have a problem with him bullying his best friend? Going home in a rage, he nearly texted Miguel to tell him he was quitting--but something stopped him just before he hit Send.

He remembered the look on Eli’s face just after Kyler shoved him away. He remembered seeing Eli stiffen when Kyler grabbed him by the chin, practically feeling the terror emanate from his friend’s body. He remembered how completely and infuriatingly helpless he felt.

It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. But maybe if Miguel was onto something--maybe if karate really could protect him and Eli from the bullies--it could be the last.

Mr. Lawrence (or Sensei Lawrence, as he obnoxiously insisted on being called) hardly let up on bullying Eli. Even at Eli’s request not to call him “Lip” and the pleading of his star student Miguel Diaz himself, the man only seemed to crack down harder--in some sort of twisted effort to “toughen Eli up,” Demetri guessed. Demetri defended Eli every single time, not mincing any words mouthing off at Sensei Lawrence. It got Demetri punched in the face, flipped on the mat, saddled with much harder drills than the rest of the class, but he didn’t give a shit. He wasn’t about to let anyone treat Eli like that, no matter what pain he had to endure for it.

Johnny, meanwhile, is immensely annoyed by this obnoxious, sarcastic kid who just can’t stop running his mouth--but working him twice as hard as the rest of the class is proving to be fruitless in shutting him up. But, Johnny’s finding, Demetri constantly antagonizing him doesn’t have to be a hindrance. Anger like that can be weaponized--the more he provokes Demetri, the more he insults and belittles that Eli kid he’s so attached to, the harder Demetri punches. The quicker he moves when he fights. The stronger he kicks. Johnny sometimes comes home after training covered in nasty bruises, almost entirely from sparring Demetri--they’re enough to make Carmen and Rosa Diaz worry he’s getting jumped on the way home.

One day Johnny takes his ribbing of Eli just a little too far, hoping to get an especially vicious reaction out of Demetri. Eli, pushed to the end of his rope, runs out of the dojo, barely holding back tears. Demetri starts to go after him, but Miguel puts a hand on his arm and stops him, saying they can both check up on him later.

When Demetri finds Eli after practice, Eli’s sobbing. “I can’t do this anymore, Deme. No matter what you say to him, he just keeps picking on me. It never stops.” Demetri winces, because Eli isn’t wrong--Sensei Lawrence really hasn’t stopped bullying Eli at all, and while Demetri was busy letting himself get riled up by it, he didn’t actually think to see how it was affecting Eli. “Well, I know it sucks now, and Mr. Lawrence is a huge asshole, but we’re learning to be tough,” Demetri reasons. “We’re learning to be intimidating. A few more months here, and the bullies will never touch us again! Just like Miguel!” And Eli just scowls, uncharacteristically angry for his timid self, and says “Well, it’s not worth it if I have to feel like shit the whole time! If every time I step in here I get everything about me picked apart, over and over again! I’m done with this, Demetri.”

And just like that, Eli is out of the dojo. Demetri can’t help but be disappointed--he’d looked forward to them training together, and seeing Eli become a badass, fearless fighter who could hand Kyler’s ass to him after all those fucked up things he said to Eli. And to make matters worse, Sensei Lawrence doesn’t stop using Eli as fuel to rip out Demetri’s rage long after Eli’s gone. “Oooh, Loudmouth, feeling sad today? Missing Lip the Quitter?” “You keep throwing punches like that, and you could get beat up by that loser with the fucked lip you were so enamored with. Although knowing you, you’d let him win anyways.” And Demetri can’t help but hate the man, but damn, if it doesn’t feel good to land an especially good hit on him, or jab him in the thigh with a powerful kick.

But things aren’t bad--Demetri still has Miguel, and their new friend Aisha. Eli still hangs out with them outside of practice, and indulges Demetri in his ever-increasing ramblings about martial arts, no matter how nervous and uncomfortable karate tends to make Eli. If Demetri likes it that much, maybe he should make an effort to show interest in it. The four of them crash Yasmine’s birthday party, and Demetri even finds himself smooth-talking them into getting alcohol with his newfound confidence. After all, if he can land punches faster than a snake can strike, how difficult can it be to weasel his way into getting a little beer?

Meanwhile Moon, feeling understandably unfulfilled in her popular clique, takes an interest in the Cool New Karate Gang in town, and after apologizing to Aisha at the beach rager, the two strike up a friendship. She comes to hang out with their group more and more, and Eli finds her surprisingly easy to talk to. Moon constantly makes an effort to include him when the others get to wrapped up talking about karate, and he appreciates her kindness and sincerity. It’s odd, really, how easy it is to have a conversation with her, considering how nervous he tends to get around her. But Eli doesn’t think too much about it.

When it comes time for the tournament, Moon and Eli go together to support their friends. Eli finds his gaze flickering back and forth between Moon and Demetri, lingering on each of them longer than he would care to admit--and he can’t quite explain why. Something about Moon’s wide, excited smile, the smell of cherry shampoo in her hair...but also Demetri’s smug, triumphant smirk when he pulls off an especially impressive move, the way his wiry arm muscles ripple when he fights. They’re both just so...captivating.

Demetri, for his part, is ruthless. Much more so than Eli has ever seen him be. He’s always been sarcastic and cynical, but resigned to his fate--at the tournament, Demetri lashes out in vicious ways the old Demetri would never have had the courage to pull off. He talks shit to the other contestants far beyond what’s considered “sportsmanlike”--and Eli can tell he’s not holding back, with the theatrical body language channeling every awful thing he’s saying.

Demetri fights like lightning--he weaves and maneuvers and strikes at breakneck speed, a limber, flashing form hitting all across his opponent’s bodies before they have any idea what’s happening. He dodges hits and jumps aside like he has some cosmic sense of when and where they’re coming. And it scares Eli, seeing a viciousness and relentlessness in Demetri that he’s never encountered before--but somehow, he finds, he just can’t look away.

Season 2

After the tournament, Demetri’s life has never been better. At the summer’s start, he’s still riding the high of the Cobra Kai tournament win. He didn’t take home the trophy, but suffice to say he got much farther than anyone believed a scrawny, lanky nerd ever would, and he is incredibly smug about it. He realizes, at the end of the day, he’s gotten what he always wanted after all--the bullies don’t come near him and Eli at all, and he can rest easy, knowing Eli is finally safe. However, he’s so busy embracing his new skills that at times, he almost forgets that was ever even an issue. His newfound fighting prowess has caught the attention of Yasmine, of all people--maybe someone who can throw kicks that good isn’t as much of a loser as she originally thought.

She finds out after her family’s plans to go to France for the summer fall through, and she finally patches things up with Moon after their fallout at the beach party. Moon can’t stop gushing about how amazing Demetri was at the tournament--both she and her new friend Eli (who Yasmine definitely thinks seems like a weirdo, but hey--maybe if Moon thinks he’s worth her time, he can’t be that much of a loser) were so impressed with him. Interest piqued, Yasmine joins their little but ever-growing group. She finds herself quickly drawn in by Demetri’s ever-growing confidence, intelligence, and surprisingly enjoyable (if somewhat annoying) sense of humor, and before long, the two are dating.

Yasmine and Aisha are...cool. Kind of. Yasmine doesn’t quite apologize, and the two aren’t friends by any stretch of imagination, but they tolerate each other, and Yasmine refrains from making awful comments and picking on Aisha in front of their friends. Aisha, for her part, does her best not to lash out or be mean to Yasmine either, keeping the peace mainly for Demetri’s and Moon’s sakes.

Meanwhile, it would take an idiot not to notice the rather starstruck looks Eli’s been shooting in Moon’s direction. Moon, for her part, is either entirely oblivious or simply doesn’t even think to consider a shy, timid, nerdy kid as a romantic option, even if she does consider him a friend.

Oddly, Demetri finds himself extremely bothered by Eli’s doe-eyed crush on Moon. He really can’t place why--he has a girlfriend already, so it really shouldn’t bug him so much that Eli is finally growing noticably interested in girls too, now that they tend to be in closer proximity. And it’s not even like Moon seems to be at all interested in reciprocating. Maybe, he figures, it’s the fact that Moon never would have even looked their way if it weren’t for the fact that he and Miguel and Aisha were the “Cool Karate Gang.” The same karate gang, of course, that Eli quit. That Eli didn’t have it in him to fully be a part of. And yet here he is, reaping the benefits still.

Interestingly, Yasmine also seems bothered by Eli’s affections for her friend. Demetri feels her stiffen beside him and sees her shooting disapproving looks whenever she catches Eli staring at Moon. Demetri isn’t sure why she seems to take issue with this too--perhaps she thinks Moon is too good for Eli, and her friend deserves better than a shy, awkward nerd.

Something about this mindset very much rubs Demetri the wrong way, but he pushes the feeling aside. Maybe he should count his blessings instead of being so inwardly critical of his girlfriend. After all, not everyone gets to date the hottest girl in school.

The day of Valley Fest arrives, and Yasmine goes to support her boyfriend. Moon and Eli tag along, eager to support their friends as well. Caught up in the thrill of the blaring music, the bright, flashing lights, the audience cheering, Demetri feels a wave of pride as he looks at his little group of friends that came for him, yelling and whooping and jumping up and down. For some reason, he finds his gaze drawn specifically to Eli, wearing a grin bigger than Demetri’s seen in months and eyes absolutely glowing.

Suddenly Demetri feels an overpowering urge to wrap Eli up in this world he’s fallen in love with, immerse him entirely in the karate that’s made Demetri feel so much more happy and free in the past several months. Grinning, he strides forward and reaches down, using the absurd upper body strength he’s built up since he’s started karate to yank Eli up onto the stage. He hands his best friend a wooden board and steps back, racing forward and snapping it in half with a jumping roundhouse kick. For a few seconds, Eli can do nothing but stare at the broken board, something shifting inside of him.

After that, Eli decides maybe it’s time to give karate another go. Something about the way Demetri positively shone onstage--how genuinely happy all of it seemed to make him--makes him thing it can’t be so bad, even if he does get taunted for his lip again.

He stops by the dojo the following week, gathering up every ounce of courage he has to ask that mean blonde man how he goes about joining the dojo again. He’s hoping against hope that maybe, after all these months of teaching students and a tournament win under his belt, the edge of his pathetic cruelty will at least have been taken off.

No such luck. Upon seeing Eli walk into the dojo, Johnny greets him with “Hey, Lip is back! Real world not treat you as nicely as you thought?” The two are, regrettably, completely alone in the dojo. Eli sucks in his breath--Demetri isn’t around, so if anyone is going to defend him, it’ll have to be him himself.

“Could you please not call me that?” His voice shakes as he says it, but nonetheless, he finishes the statement. It occurs to him that not once in his (admittedly brief) stay in Cobra Kai did he simply...request that Sensei Lawrence not call him Lip. Demetri’s approach was always to get angry about it, go off on the sensei about how wrong it was to mock someone’s appearance, but Eli himself had never been the one to make a case for Sensei Lawrence to treat him better.

It hardly helped. Sensei Lawrence just claimed that if he didn’t want him to call him Lip, he shouldn’t have a freaky lip, and then went on to claim whoever did his cleft lip surgery must have done an awful job. Eli attempted to move away from the topic, but Sensei Lawrence didn’t let up. “It’s hard to when it’s right in front of me. Hard to believe Demetri was so willing to defend you like some knight in shining armor or some shit. You’re pathetic.” Having heard enough, Eli storms out, anger overtaking him. How could he have been so stupid, to think this was going to go any better? Why did he think that just because this man had been willing to help Miguel and Demetri (who were normal) become badass meant he would extend the same treatment to the freak with the lip scar?

Eli calls Demetri in tears. “I don’t know how you can train with someone like him,” Eli spits out. “He’s a shit person, Demetri. I--I don’t know what you and Miguel are thinking. It’s like he gets some kind of...I don’t know, sadistic pleasure out of bullying people. He’s not any better than the people he claims he’s trying to help you fight.”

Demetri, to his horror, reacts only with scorn, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “God, all this drama because he was mean about your lip again? Jesus christ, grow a backbone, Eli. I hate to say it, but I think Mr. Lawrence was right--if you can’t even handle someone making some insensitive comments about your scar, how are you going to handle an elbow to the teeth? Or any training more intensive than a slap on the wrist, anyway?”

Eli can do nothing but just stare at him through the screen. Demetri, the one person who he has always been able to count on to not comment on his scar, the one person who has always comforted him or talked him through it when he cried, is brushing him completely off--being an asshole about the one thing Eli was certain he never would be. Why is Demetri, of all people, not taking his side on this?

All Eli knows for sure is that he doesn’t like this new version of Demetri one bit. What happened to the best friend who was always willing to fight for him, no matter what it took? Now, he seems more concerned with looking cool and tough and upkeeping some kind of ridiculous reputation than Eli’s own well-being.

Over the next few days, a rage he didn’t know he even had in him bubbles up inside Eli. He decides if Demetri’s going to play dirty, so is he. And maybe, if Eli plays his cards right, the old Demetri will come back.

Despite his long-standing frustration with the way adults treat him--delicately, condescendingly, like a Thing of Pity--Eli figures he can get some use out of it for once. If this is the only way they’re going to see him regardless, he might as well use it to his advantage. And so he goes crying to his mom, who he knows for a fact other adults talk about being a “valued member of the community” and probably has some influence and some strings she can pull. He bawls to her about how his best friend has turned into an unrecognizable jerk, all because he’s training with a middle-aged man with the mindset of a high school bully who has no issue verbally abusing his students. Sure enough, discussions are had with the Neighborhood Committee, phone calls are placed, and Eli overhears his mother vowing to shut down that degenerate karate place if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Meanwhile, back at the dojo, Kreese makes an announcement. The elderly, intimidating man has recently teamed up with Johnny to teach--and he gives Demetri the creeps, if he’s honest, but he seems to know his stuff when it comes to karate, so Demetri goes along with this new addition to the sensei roster. However, when Johnny goes off to visit his high school friends and leaves the kids alone with the new Sensei, Demetri can’t help but feel uneasy.

“Now, the dojo’s been getting some concerned phone calls,” Kreese says, arms crossed and expression difficult to read. He doesn’t seem to be angry--if anything, he looks faintly amused. “Parents of the local teenagers are worried. They think Cobra Kai is full of bullies. Think our methods are...abusive, even. They want to shut us down.” Worried murmurs start to echo around the room, but Kreese silences them as he goes on. “Oh, don’t worry. It won’t be a problem. I have my ways of talking people down. We know better, anyhow. They’re just...intimidated by us, because we’ve honed skills here they couldn’t even dream of having. But nonetheless...” Kreese smirks in a way that makes Demetri feels ever-so-slightly unnerved. “If you run into one of your little peers whining to your parents about getting rid of us, well...show them Cobra Kai can’t be messed with so easily.”

And suddenly Demetri’s seething, because he knows exactly who made sure those phone calls got made.

Eli, for all his timidness, is notoriously smart. Demetri knows this intimately. He’d hardly put it past Eli to be this cunning, to manipulate the pitying adults around him to get what he wants.

When the Cobra Kai kids take a trip to the mall later that day, Demetri knows exactly where Eli will be. Every Wednesday, a new issue of Dungeon Lord comes out--they used to go get it together, but since getting into karate, Demetri hasn’t been keeping up. Demetri would figure someone like Eli wouldn’t have the balls to go out in public alone, if not for the fact that he knew how invested Eli was in the current plot.

And so Demetri heads to the comic book store, a group of reluctant Cobra Kai “pledges” in tow. Maybe it’s a bit sadistic, but he likes having someone to be able to boss around--it feels nice to be at the top of the food chain for once. Lord knows it’s the first time that’s happened. And if he isn’t going to milk that tournament win for all it’s worth, then what even is the point?

When Demetri arrives, Eli turns to look at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?” he says, lip curling slightly. “I figured you were too tough for this kind of stuff now.”

Demetri just scoffs and crosses his arms. “Well, Mr. Kreese said the dojo’s been getting some calls from weepy parents concerned we’re bullying their poor kids. Saying our Senseis must be some evil, abusive monsters twisting and corrupting the neighborhood teenagers. So I think you know exactly why I’m here.”

Eli just looks at him with a doe-eyed innocence that makes his blood boil. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Demetri advances on him, eyes flashing. “Don’t bullshit me, Eli. I know you’ve been meddling.”

To his surprise, Eli looks up to meet his gaze evenly, pretense of naiveté completely gone. “And what if I have? I don’t like the influence they’re having on you.”

Well, Demetri doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like it. “What is it about Cobra Kai that’s got you in such a tiffy, huh? You’re jealous I found a way to fight back and actually protect us? You don’t like that I’m not a pathetic loser you can look down your nose at anymore?”

Eli just looks at him in bewilderment. “Jesus, no, that’s not it at all, dude. Just...do you even hear yourself? You’ve turned into such an asshole since you started all that karate shit. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. You walk around thinking you’re hot shit and everyone has to bow down to you all because your dojo won some stupid tournament. Well, news flash, Demetri--nobody cares.”

The callous way Eli, of all people, says it can’t help but throw him off. Is that really what his best friend thinks about him now--that he’s just some arrogant prick strutting around flaunting his success?

And then Demetri remembers how he got here--what it was that pushed him to be such a hard-assed fighter in the first place--and he feels a wave of venom coarse through him so powerful that he nearly chokes on it. Before he knows it he’s grabbing Eli by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall.

“You fucking ungrateful brat,” he spits out, his words poison. “I did it all for you, you know. Everything I did was so that I could finally protect you. And this is how you thank me? After I’ve been getting my ass kicked over and over again so you wouldn’t have to worry about bullies anymore?”

Eli is surprisingly unfazed. “And where was I when you were learning to be such a good protector, Demetri? Getting shit on as a tool to motivate you? Nobody bothering to check how I felt about that? A real good bodyguard you turned out to be.”

“And yet Kyler and his little posse haven’t bothered you once. Who do you think that’s thanks to?”

“Miguel too. You don’t get all the credit. And anyhow, not like it matters when your Senseis would just as soon take the same cheap shots.”

Demetri just curls his lip. “Don’t get mad at me because you were too weak to survive Cobra Kai. Because...what, a middle-aged karate teacher hurt your feelings? I’d like to see how you go about taking a real fist to the jaw.”

Demetri raises a fist as if to demonstrate. Eli flinches, anger and defiance suddenly completely gone as his eyes widen in horror.

“You’d actually hurt me?” he asks softly.

Demetri slowly lowers his fist, realizing the answer as soon as he sees the terrified look in his friend’s eyes.

“Consider this your warning, Eli,” he spits out, with as much venom as he can manage. “Don’t mess around with Cobra Kai, or things are going to get ugly.” He smirks--a little sadistically, he has to admit. “You saw the tournament. Well...you’d better believe that’s the least of what I can do.”

When a downtrodden Eli shows up at Daniel LaRusso’s front door, timidly requesting to learn karate, far be it from Daniel to turn away a new student. Eli’s sob story about how he’s being bullied and threatened by his best friend only makes the new sensei more determined to take him under his wing--Daniel is no stranger to bullying, after all.

The next time Cobra Kai goes on an outing to the mall, Demetri catches Eli in the food court, eating with Samantha LaRusso and that kid whose ass he kicked at the tournament--Robby Keene, was his name? Mr. Lawrence’s kid. This seems...odd. How would Eli have met them?

An unexpected wave of jealousy rips through him. How did shy little Eli manage to make other friends? Let alone with an ex popular girl, of all people. Nonetheless, he figures this might be a good time to make sure his ex-friend isn’t trying to start any more shit with Cobra Kai.

He catches Eli in the deli line, sliding up behind him and purring, “Oh, I hope you haven’t been poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, have you, Eli?”

Eli turns and glares at him with a venom Demetri didn’t know the other boy had in him. “Why, Demetri? Scared your precious Cobra Kai is going to lose all its coolness cred if it gets out how shitty you all are?”

Demetri seethes with anger again, and before he knows it, he’s shoving Eli out of the line and ramming him up against one of the pillars on the edge of the food court. The crowd of eaters around them “Oooooh”s, but Demetri ignores them. He raises a fist again, fully prepared to follow through this time. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

Eli just curls his lip, more defiant than Demetri’s ever seen him. “You don’t scare me, Demetri. I know who you really are.”

The Cobra Kai pledges start to loom behind them, ready to provide Demetri with backup if needed. Eli notices and scoffs. “Wow, siccing your goons on me too? Way to set up a fair fight, Demetri. You’re so badass.”

Struck by a sudden desire to prove him wrong, Demetri socks Eli in the jaw before he can think better of it. He pauses afterwards, momentarily shaken by what he’s done.

To his dismay, Eli’s horrified shock is short lived before he laughs darkly. “Well, you’re not the only one who knows karate now. I joined Miyagi-Do.”

Demetri just scoffs. Ah yes, a little karate training and Eli, of all people, is going to kick some major ass. “All right then. Let’s see what you got.” He takes a step back, allowing Eli to try and get a hit in.

When the fight breaks out in full force, it’s vicious. Eli throws the first hit, but it’s weak--he’s out of practice since abandoning Cobra Kai. Demetri has him on the ground in seconds, throwing punches and kicks with a speed and rage he had no idea he had. Eli barely has time to get up before he’s getting his ass handed to him.

What Demetri doesn’t count on is Eli’s new dojomates coming to his rescue, getting the smaller boy behind them and executing a near-perfect synchronized fighting routine. Even with his lackeys helping him, Demetri is completely annihilated--nearly unconscious on the food court floor within minutes. The last thing he sees before he passes out is Eli staring down at him, blue eyes wide with horror.

When word of the incident at the mall gets back to Moon, shit hits the fan--to put it lightly. Yasmine is with Moon when she confronts Demetri, but she doesn’t say anything--just stands glaring with her arms crossed while Moon goes off at him. “How could you treat Eli like that? He’s your friend!”

“Not anymore.” Demetri curls his lip. “He joined Miyagi-Do. He’s made it pretty clear where his loyalties lie now, and it’s not with me.”

“Who cares about Miyagi-Do?” She retorts. “He’s still your friend! Our friend! And I don’t like the way you’re bullying him.”

Demetri scoffs. “Don’t you get it? He’s just a pathetic nerd who can’t handle the fact that I’m cooler than him now. All he wants to do is drag me down to his level again, I guarantee it.”

Moon’s gaze is more poisonous than he’s ever seen it. She turns to Yasmine. “Tell him, Yas,” she says, her tone dangerously quiet.

Yasmine sighs. She says--with notable hesitation, Demetri notices--“If you don’t stop bullying Eli, we’re through.”

Thrown off, Demetri laughs harshly. “What do you care? You don’t even like Eli! I see those...disgusted looks you shoot in his direction, when you think we won’t notice.”

Yasmine bites her lip. “That doesn’t matter. Moon is my best friend. If she’s not okay with this whole...thing, then neither am I.”

“You’re not fucking serious. You’re dumping me because your bleeding-hearted friend told you I wasn’t being nice enough to a guy you can’t stand?”

Yasmine pauses, but ultimately stands her ground. “I’m sorry, but if it’s between you and Moon, it’s going to be Moon. So her word goes. So either stop with this whole stupid feud with Eli, or we’re finished.”

“I...” Demetri can only stare at her, shocked. He never could have imagined getting this ultimatum...and yet here he is.

He must have hesitated a second too long, because Moon grabs Yasmine’s arm and starts to pull her away. “I think that’s all the answer we need,” Moon hisses.

“Wait!” he called helplessly after them. Yasmine turns around once as she walks away, but only to spit “It’s over!” over her shoulder. As if for good measure.

Kreese finds Demetri circling a punching bag in the back of the dojo, spinning around it and throwing kicks and punches faster than cobra strikes. Seizing his opportunity, he advances. “What’s wrong, son?”

Demetri turns, tensing. He’s still wary of the man, but to hell with it--it’s not like he has anyone else to talk to. “Fight broke out with Miyagi-Do, and we lost. Pathetic, I know. Please don’t rub it in.”

“Cheer up.” Kreese smirks. “The fight isn’t over until you say it is.”

Demetri just sighs. “No use going in for a rematch. They’re strong. I couldn’t take them again on my own.”

Kreese’s smirk widens. “You’re a smart kid. There are other ways to fight back, you know. You don’t always have to beat them into the ground.”

As he leaves, Demetri lets that sink in.

Well, Demetri is nothing if not tech-savvy. May as well make some use of that Yelp Elite status. He spends hours setting up dozens of sock puppet accounts, programming them to post terrible review after terrible review blasting everything he can think of about Miyagi-Do. The encouragement of violence in youth (Eli had technically punched first, hadn’t he?). The weak, subpar fighting style that broke down as soon as it was challenged by serious fighters. The pretentious, culture-appropriating sensei. Daniel LaRacist indeed.

During the Coyote Creek excursion, Demetri finds himself pitted against Miguel, fighting in the world’s most intense game of what essentially boils down to Capture the Flag. Demetri, about to get the better of Miguel, finds that he can’t help but gloat about his little online attack. Can’t be long before a one-star dojo goes out of business.

When Miguel seems to take issue with it, saying the whole thing is mean-spirited and over the top, Demetri can’t help but scoff. Miyagi-Do has been plenty clear in declaring war--their little battalion at the mall proved that. Demetri wishes Miguel wasn’t still too caught up in pining over Sam LaRusso to realize that.

Miguel, meanwhile, decides this dojo war of sorts is getting out of hand. It turns out Demetri isn’t the only tech-savvy student in Cobra Kai--Miguel designed their website, after all. With a little bit of basic internet coding and some rudimentary hacking, he manages to access the sock puppet accounts Demetri made and take the bad reviews down. He even goes so far as to go over to the Miyagi-Do dojo and personally apologize for how Cobra Kai has been acting, telling Robby Keene that he found out who blasted the bad reviews and took them all down. “We’re not all assholes.”

Come Moon’s end-of-summer party, Demetri is surprised to get an invitation. He hasn’t seen her or Yasmine since they both chewed him out, and Yasmine ended things. But perhaps this is a show of good faith. Maybe Moon wants to be friends again--and maybe that means Yasmine’s come to her senses too, and might be willing to talk things out.

Moon welcomes him when he arrives, previous animosity gone for the moment. “Hey, thank you for inviting me. I’m...sorry,” he starts. “Of how we left things off. I was an ass to you and Yas.” “It’s alright,” Moon replies cheerily. “I invited you because...well, I’m hoping that before school starts, we can stop all the fighting and be friends again.”

His heart sinks as he sees Sam LaRusso lead a stream of kids through the door, Eli trailing at the end, and he realizes exactly what she means. The Miyagi-Dos are here.

He sits forlornly on a couch with Mitch and Aisha, thinking about how much worse this night just got. He brightens, however, when he sees a shock of blonde hair at the door not long after. So Yasmine came after all.

Moon grins in delight, calling over to her. Taking a breath, Demetri stands up and approaches the two girls, determined to smooth things over with them both.

He’s not surprised to see Yasmine make a beeline for Moon, not noticing him for the moment. What he isn’t expecting is for Moon to sweep Yasmine into her arms, kissing her full on the mouth.

Demetri stops in his tracks. The girls turn to him a few seconds later, seeming to notice him for the first time. They look at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to finish walking over to them. Or say something, and not just stand there gawking stupidly.

“Uh...are you two...um...like...uh...” All he can do is shuffle closer and gesture abstractly, not able to find words. Yasmine blushes and looks away, while Moon tucks a hair behind her ear, her smile strained.

“Yeah. It’s new,” she admits, laughing nervously. “We’re, um...”

“Girlfriends?” Yasmine offers, looking up and smiling at Moon with uncharacteristic shyness. Demetri can’t help but bristle--shyness she never showed him.

Well, far be it from him to be judgmental. Even if Yasmine broke his damn heart just now, Moon is still his friend. He gives them a strained smile. “That’s...that’s great! Happy for you two. No shame in uh...trying out something like that.”

Demetri excuses himself and sulks back to the now-empty couch, mind racing as he sits down. Is that why Moon was trying to encourage Yasmine to break up with him? Was it even about Eli at all? Did Moon just want Yasmine for herself? It seemed unlike Moon, but who could say?

And Yasmine...had she always wanted Moon, too? Is that why she seethed every time she saw Eli shooting lovestruck glances at her friend?

...had she even ever liked Demetri at all, or was he just a cover-up for the fact that she was...lesbian? How was someone as feminine and fashionable as Yasmine a lesbian, anyways? All the lesbians Demetri saw on tv cut their hair boyishly short and had about 5 nose rings and walked around in leather jackets and combat boots.

His thoughts are interrupted by the last sweatered boy he wants to see taking a seat at the other side of the couch, glancing nervously at him with darting eyes. What did Eli want? And why was he so nervous? He’d been unduly bold as of late.

“You seen the new Doctor Who trailer?” Eli mutters.

Something about the nonchalant way he says it--like this is the olden days, when Demetri always felt like shit about himself and had no one who tolerated him but Eli--makes Demetri’s blood boil. He scoffs. “I have better things to do than watch nerd crap like that.”

A short silence. “Capaldi regenerated,” Eli offers finally. “I know you weren’t big on 12.”

No more Capaldi? Demetri turns to look at Eli, interest suddenly piqued.

“What’s the new doctor like?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Eli grins. “She’s a badass.”

“She?” Demetri finds himself grinning back. “How progressive of them. Welcome to the 21st century, Doctor Who.”

A sudden giggling catches his attention, and Demetri looks to where Yasmine and Moon are sharing a chair across the room, tangled up in each other’s arms and trading soft kisses like they don’t have a care in the world. He tenses.

Eli seems to sense his discomfort, and sighs. “Hey, I’m sorry, man. If it helps at all, I liked Moon a lot, too.”

Demetri just scoffs. “Yeah, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. They just have to be gay, right?”

Eli gives him a strange look. Demetri shuffles uncomfortably, realizing what he’s probably thinking about. The...incident, 4 years ago. Demetri glares at him, hoping to banish the thought before it arrives. None of that meant anything--they were just dumb kids. Dumb kids doing dumb shit that didn’t matter.

“I don’t know, I mean...if they’re happy together, shouldn’t we just be happy for them?”

Eli reaches out and squeezes his shoulder, and Demetri hesitates. Their special touch. Eli still remembers, even after everything that’s happened.

For a moment he’s overcome with longing, wishing things with Eli could just go back to how they used to be. Back when he knew no matter what hell he went through at school, Eli would always be there to pick him back up again. But then it sinks in what Eli’s really trying to say.

Be happy for them. What a bunch of Miyagi-Do bullshit. Just accept his sad little lot in life, just like he used to do. Go back to nerdy little Eli at the bottom of the food chain, doomed to spend the rest of his youth admiring pretty girls from a vast distance.

He never wants that to be him again.

“Oh, fuck you, Eli,” he spits, grabbing Eli’s hand and yanking it off of his shoulder. Eli freezes, looking like he’s just been slapped.

“What, so I’m supposed to do like you, moping and pining and hoping a pretty girl will look my way if I wish hard enough and just sucking it up when she doesn’t? Well, I’ve had plenty enough of that--I’ve been on the top. And I’m going to be on the top again. But you? You’ll always be pathetic--you and your entire sorry excuse for a dojo.”

He gets up and walks away, bristling with an anger he can’t even fully place anymore.

As Eli watches Demetri go, he realizes he’s finally had enough. Demetri doesn’t want to patch things up? He just wants to keep being an arrogant shithead? Fine. But Eli’s not about to take his prodding and insults anymore.

Eli makes his way over to Moon--still his friend, despite the unreciprocated feelings--and Yasmine, strikes up a conversation with them. Yasmine, he notices, is being notably nicer to him--probably at Moon’s request. They get to talking about sexualities, and Eli accidentally lets a little something slip about Demetri.

When they were 12 years old, they had kissed. It was Eli who suggested they practiced kissing, to get ready for all the girls they would inevitably date. However, a bit of choice wording and it sounded like Demetri had planted one on Eli out of nowhere...and Eli, of course, hadn’t liked it one bit, because he was totally straight. “You can’t tell anyone, though,” he pleaded the girls, big sad eyes every bit as convincing as he had hoped. “Demetri doesn’t want it to get out that he’s...you know. Gay. He’s worried it’ll ruin his reputation.”

Moon nods sincerely, but Eli can tell from the almost imperceptible smirk on Yasmine’s face that she has other plans. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Demetri’s ex over the last few months, it’s that even trying to be a better person, she can’t resist a good bit of juicy gossip.

And from what Eli gathers...two girls dating? No problem, as long as they’re hot and popular. At least creepy guys can fetishize it. But guys liking other guys? Now that...Eli has a feeling that won’t go over well.

As soon as Eli excuses himself, Yasmine gets to work. A few whispers at the snack table when Moon isn’t looking, and news of Demetri’s supposed orientation spread like wildfire.

Demetri, meanwhile, is determined to prove Eli wrong. So what if Yas doesn’t want him anymore (or never did, the mean voice in his head keeps prodding)? He’ll find another hot girl to have on his arm. He’s a top Cobra Kai fighter, after all--it’s not like it’ll be difficult.

He saunters over to a group of girls, leaning up against the wall in what he thinks has to be a very suave way. “Hey ladies,” he says. “Name’s Demetri. I’m sure you’ve heard about me--seasoned Cobra Kai fighter, finalist in the All-Valley tournament. But no need to be intimidated--if any of you beautiful ladies ever need a hand with anything, I’ll--”

“Take it off of the nearest dick to help us out?” one of the girls cuts him off. They all break out in snickers. “No thanks.”

Demetri freezes. Why would they think...?

Then he realizes there’s only one person who could have made them think he was into that sort of thing.

He tenses. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but--”

“We’ve heard all we need to,” another girl says, eyeing him up in disgust. “Not interested in getting it on with someone who’s probably had his cock up another guy’s ass, to be blunt. Gross.” Before Demetri can say another word, the girls are gone, turning and slinking hurriedly off into the crowd.

Every time Demetri tries his luck with another girl, he gets similar rebuffs. And every time, he seethes a little more. Fucking figured--timid little Eli couldn’t take the fact that Demetri had worked up the confidence to win over a girl and he hadn’t, so he had to ruin Demetri’s chances with every other girl so he’d feel better.

Besides, Demetri remembers that day from 4 years ago. He remembers that Eli was just as into...all the stuff they did.

Unfortunately, before Demetri has a chance to go over and confront Eli about the whole business, the cops show up. He’ll just have to wait until school, he figures.

Meanwhile, word gets back to Sam that Miguel showed up at her door, apologizing and promising he took all the bad reviews down--apparently Robby didn’t relay any of this to her. When Miguel admits to Demetri about the drunken kiss, Demetri chuckles, slapping him on the back. “My man! Trying to build up a whole harem here, are we?”

Miguel sighs, looking sullen. “I cheated, dude. That’s shitty.”

And then comes the PA announcement. Tory Nichols is starting shit, and Demetri can’t pretend he’s not intrigued to see where this goes.

As soon as the fight breaks out, Demetri is overcome with adrenaline. He whips through the crowd, spinning and throwing kicks and punches like explosive flashes. All he can think of is Eli, Eli, little Eli...oh, when he finds him, there’s going to be hell to pay.

And it doesn’t take long--of course Eli is the one who tries to pull a teacher in to stop the fight. The fucking wimp.

When Eli makes a run for it, Demetri can’t help but smirk when he leads him straight to the computer lab. How very typical, for someone whose hero is Steve Jobs. He grins, something frighteningly sadistic bubbling up inside of him.

For a second it almost scares him, how badly he wants to drive his foot into Eli’s chest.

“Little Eli Moskowitz!” he taunts, before he can stop himself. “Cowering away in the computer lab, just like the little nerd he is. Can’t hide forever, outer. I know damn well what you told them about me.”

He tries door after door, continuing in a singsong voice as he goes. “Oh dear me, what would they say if they knew you enjoyed it too, Eli? Well, I guess they won’t believe me now. But I know. I know you’re no better than me.”

Ever since they were kids, Demetri has been the speedier one. They used to race across the playground at recess, pretending to be Quicksilver and the Flash, but Demetri always came out ahead. Long, gangly legs tended to do that. So when Eli turns to see Demetri in the doorway, and he makes a run for it, he doesn’t get far.

Demetri grabs Eli around the waist and throws him against the wall, whipping kicks and hits into his stomach and thighs faster than he can block. Demetri hardly notices the bruises forming, or the bleeding cuts.

It’s then that Eli does something Demetri doesn’t expect--flips the script, as it were. As Demetri reaches out to strike again, Eli surges forward and grabs him by the shoulders, flipping him around and pinning him against the wall. Maybe Miyagi-Do specializes in defense, but they still taught him how to throw a good hit or two. He throws defense to the wayside and starts raining punches down on Demetri--sloppy, uncoordinated, but something the “Strike First” Cobra Kai student is entirely unprepared to defend.

When his chest is stinging and his head throbbing, Demetri can’t take anymore. Eli was a lot more...well, powerful than he expected. At his first opportunity, he turns and books it. Maybe this isn’t a fight he can win after all.

Eli doesn’t chase. As angry as he still is at Demetri, he can’t stop thinking about the mars and bruises and cuts that appeared across Demetri’s face and skin as he punched him, mirroring his own, and he feels sick. He can’t hurt Demetri anymore, no matter what Demetri thinks of him now.

Demetri just makes it to the staircase when he sees Miguel motionless on the floor, Robby Keene looking over the railing. Sam LaRusson hovering over him. He runs to Miguel’s side, world crumbling around him.

Turns out he showed mercy, just like Mr. Lawrence always said to. And look where it got him. When John Kreese offers him a place in a new Cobra Kai, determined to make the Miyagi-Dos pay for hurting Miguel, Demetri isn’t about to say no.

In his grief, it seems like the only option.

Season 3

On the first day back at school, Mitch is quick to remind Demetri that there are other girls in the world besides Yasmine. Surely it won’t be too hard to work his charms on some of the freshmen--after all, word about that little incident with Eli when they were 12 can’t have gotten across the entire school, can it?

“Well, hello, ladies!” he purrs to a passing group, leaning against the wall in the most nonchalant way possible. “Welcome to West Valley High. I know freshman year can be intimidating, high school classes and new people and all, but if you ever need help with anything, I’m--”

“--the scrawny little gay kid who ran his pussy ass away from the world’s easiest fight?” one of the girls finishes scornfully. “Yeah, we know.”

As they walk away, he notices one shoot a flirty smile at a passing Eli, surrounded by his squad of Miyagi-Do losers. “Ooooh, you’re famous now, E!” he hears Chris say, and his blood boils all over again.

Ah. So everyone knew about Eli’s little triumph.

Mitch saunters over, and Demetri follows his lead. “Got something to say?!” he snaps.

Demetri’s eyes lock with Eli’s, and he glowers down at him. Eli’s face is tight, expression almost...sad.

Not like he’d expect anything less from that little crybaby.

“Oh, little Eli,” he chides. “I’d like to see you try and hide behind security.”

“I don’t need to,” Eli mutters, not breaking eye contact.

“Everything all right here?”

At the sound of the counselor’s voice, Eli does something unexpectedly bold. He sidles up to Demetri’s side and presses into it, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “No, Counselor Blatt, we’re all friends here!” he says, offering that shy little Eli smile that made every adult in a nearby vicinity go mad with protectiveness.

Eli’s arm is tight around his neck--like a chokehold. But, Demetri notices after a few moments, it’s shaking--the grip almost frantic. Like he’s scared of when he’ll have to let go.

Odd.

Demetri turns, and his and Eli’s eyes lock. He tries to give the shorter boy the most intense, seething glare he can under his forced smile, but Eli returns the look with equal intensity. Demetri jostles his backpack his backpack and thumps him on the chest, feeling an odd compulsion to touch his old friend right back.

Maybe he missed feeling Eli’s body underneath him. But that wasn’t a thought he could afford to spend a lot of brainpower on right now. “Yeah!” he says. Of course we’re still friends! Of course you didn’t fuck up my love life and humiliate me to the entire school because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting some and you weren’t!

When the counselor chides them about having somewhere to be, Eli just nods, murmuring, “Yeah, of course, Counselor Blatt. Sorry.”

As Eli pulls away, he pats Demetri’s shoulder a couple times. Small, almost imperceptible, but there.

Demetri can’t tell if it’s serious--if Eli still cares--or if it’s just a cruel mockery of their old touch. He’s not sure he wants to know.

When Demetri runs into Samantha LaRusso in the hospital and she insists she wants to help, he hardly expects a whole fucking fundraiser gleefully using Miguel as their poster child. As though the Miyagi-Dos weren’t the ones who put him in the hospital in the first place. When he catches a glimpse of the carwash while driving Mitch to practice, he decides he’s going to do something about it.

Beating up the kid is an easy fight, getting the money with Mitch and the others a sinch. Maybe at some point he would’ve felt bad for this--pummeling some short kid and then taking his charity money. But all he can think of is Miguel, his best friend, lying in a white gown and hooked up to wires. Because of this kid and his stupid “peaceful” dojo.

Peaceful, Demetri’s ass.

When Demetri walks into the cafeteria the following Monday, he’s not sure what he expects to see at Yasmine and Moon’s table, the place where he would be sitting, under different circumstances--but it definitely is not Eli Moskowitz with his hair dyed bright blue and spiked up. Miyagi-Do blue. Apparently all that coolness cred he felt he got from “scaring” Demetri off in the school brawl has gotten to his head, and he’s playing out his new “badassery” up to 11. He’s showing something to Yasmine and Moon, and they’re smiling and giggling. Yasmine, of all people, is smiling at nerdy little Eli’s antics.

Demetri squints, and sees that Eli’s showing the two girls a comic book--he recognizes the copy. It’s Eli’s limited edition Captain Marvel comic book, signed by Kelly Sue DeConnick herself. Demetri remembers standing in line with him at a con to get it a few years back--he’s pretty protective of the thing.

And now he’s using it to impress girls? Because apparently Yasmine and Moon are into that kind of thing? Oh, but of course Yasmine couldn’t be into nerd shit when DEMETRI was dating her, could she?

And those gooey eyes Moon is giving Eli, her little giggles--Demetri doesn’t like them one bit. What, now Eli’s worth her affections--now that his “nerdiness” is cool? Aren’t she and Yasmine a stupid item, anyways?

Deciding he’s going to put a stop to this, Demetri saunters over, lunch tray clutched so hard his knuckles are turning white. Before the group can react to his presence, Demetri picks up his chocolate milk carton and dumps it all over Eli’s stupid blue hair, making sure to get plenty on the rare comic book in front of him.

“Oh, I hope that wasn’t important, was it Eli?” he taunts, voice thick with mock sympathy. “That sure would be a shame.”

Eli turns to look at him, eyes wide with heartbroken shock. For a moment, the anger doesn’t set in.

“I had to wait in line 5 hours to get that,” he says quietly. “You know that.”

“Sure do.” Demetri smirks. “And it took all of 5 seconds to completely ruin. How tragic.”

Eli tenses, eyes darting around for a couple seconds. Demetri starts to walk away, his point made, when he feels an iron grip on his wrist. He turns to see Eli smirking at him, clutching his arm with more force than he ever thought possible from the once-timid boy.

“Careful there, Demetri,” Eli sneers. “Coming all the way across the cafeteria to bother me when you’ve got your cool Cobra Kai friends to hang out with? People might think you’re a little...obsessed with me.” Yasmine and Moon snicker, and Demetri bristles as he realizes the implication.

“Although I shouldn’t be surprised since you love obsessing over other boys, don’t you?” Eli goes on, like his point isn’t clear enough. “Y’know, I feel bad for Yasmine. I mean, any idiot could tell she used you as a beard, but I had no idea it was a mutual thing.”

Demetri tenses, willing himself not to lose his cool. “Really letting that little victory get to your head, aren’t you, Eli? Honestly, I was going easy on you. Now I know not to next time.”

It’s at that moment that Sam LaRusso decides to show up, sliding up next to Eli and glowering up at Demetri. “There won’t be a next time if I have anything to say about it,” she retorts.

Demetri can’t help but scoff. Of course Sam LaRusso would be all too eager to defend her little pet nerd now, even though she was all too happy to laugh at him with her mean girl friends a year ago. “I’m not scared of you,” he says. “Like you’d start any fight daddy couldn’t bail you out of. Or that doesn’t end with your ex boyfriend getting thrown over a railing because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

It’s a low blow, but Demetri doesn’t care. It’s hard not to look at this girl and see part of the reason Miguel might never be able to walk again.

Sam LaRusso shoves him just as the godawful counselor is sauntering over, but to hell with it--maybe Demetri could spin this to his advantage.

“She hit me, Counselor Blatt!” he cries out, pointing at Sam. “Attacked and physically assaulted me, completely unprovoked!”

“That’s not true,” Eli mumbles, eyes darting. Flawlessly slipping back into the poor little Eli role in a way that never fails to make Demetri seethe. “It wasn’t unprovoked. He started all this by destroying my limited-edition comic book for no reason.”

Demetri puts on his most convincing remorseful face and sighs. “Look, that was an accident. I just tripped while I was walking and my milk spilled. Anyhow, if your book’s that valuable, you probably shouldn’t bring it into a school cafeteria where people are more than likely going to spill food on it.”

He’d like to see the dumb counselor argue with that.

“Look, I don’t want excuses. I just want you all to respect each other.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Demetri turns to give Eli a forced smile. “Nothing but 100% respect in this environment going forward, I assure you. Sorry if we caused any problems.”

Please, just anything to make her leave.

With one last warning to Sam LaRusso, the counselor is gone. Demetri turns to the two Miyagi-Dos and smirks.

“To hell with respect,” he sneers. “Your lot hardly deserve it.”

It doesn’t surprise Demetri when Eli and his little gang of Miyagi-Do losers decide to start shit in gym class. What he isn’t expecting is for Eli and his stupid blue hair to start running next to him--right after he’s tried and failed to catch Yasmine’s attention after scoring a goal.

He’s been thinking about her all morning--was Eli right about her? Did she only use him as a cover-up?

...would no one ever want to date him for him?

Well, maybe if he won Yasmine back, he could disprove that. If Moon was going to be hanging off of Eli’s arm before too long, chances were her and Yasmine’s relationship’s days were numbered.

Whatever Eli is about to say, Demetri can already tell it’s not going to help.

And it doesn’t. “Wow, Demetri. Few guys are so bad in a relationship that they manage to turn their girlfriend gay. I hope you feel accomplished.”

Demetri balls his fists. “Say that again. I dare you.”

“You really did have a good thing going with her,” Eli sighed, voice laced with condescending pity. “It’s a shame she decided she could do better than some belligerent Cobra Kai douchebag.”

And then suddenly Eli lunges for him and tackles him, knocking him to the ground just as easily as Demetri once did to Eli at the mall.

Not that it ended up mattering all that much--Demetri was able to talk the Cobra Kai’s way out of trouble in the principal’s office, just as he so often could. Nonetheless, it seemed Eli was hardly turning out to be as much of a pushover as he thought.

When Mitch and the guys invited Demetri to go to Golf N Stuff--fuck around for a bit, cause some mayhem--he wasn’t about to say no. The thrill took over, running around, snatching tickets and prizes away, throwing them in the trash--he almost felt as powerful as Kyler must have, all those months ago when he tossed the lesser kids’ backpacks in the garbage. Is this how it felt, to be on top? To have everyone else too scared to mess with you?

Because Demetri loved it.

What he wasn’t counting on was Sam LaRusso and her little posse arriving to confront them in the laser tag arena--including Eli, face hardened and ready to fight.

Things seemed to be going pretty poorly--that was, until Tory Nichols and the backup arrived. That reduced Sam LaRusso to a sniveling mess, and finally it looked like this would be an easy finish.

Demetri found himself only stalling for a second when the way cleared for him to go at Eli. Something about the sudden terror on the other boy’s face made him hesitate, but not for long. Eli threw a weak punch, and Demetri quickly flipped him onto the ground, pulling his arm up behind him.

“No, please, stop, Deme, stop! It’s me!”

Deme...

Eli’s old nickname for him.

Demetri pauses, and suddenly he feels sick. Deme...Eli’s nickname. Eli.

Wasn’t all of this for Eli? To protect Eli?

And now here he was, about to hurt him. The one thing he swore he was going to stop everyone else from doing.

And then comes the goading cries from Tory, Mitch, and the others. Do it! Finish him! He deserves it!

He deserves it.

And then Demetri remembers what happened to Miguel when he didn’t take his chance to finish the fight with Robby Keene. Suddenly Demetri’s running out of the end of a hallway again, seeing Miguel’s motionless body lying on the stairs, and the rage and horror and mind-numbing devastation hit him all over again.

“Demetri, finish him!”

In a split second, Demetri makes his decision. Eli’s arm snaps in half.

All it takes is one terrible, pained scream from Eli for Demetri’s entire world to come crashing down on him. What the fuck did he just do?

He can’t even hear the other Cobras, gleefully congratulating him and sneering at the “pussy” on the floor. All he can hear are Eli’s pained sobs.

He’d seen Eli cry before, but never like this. Never thanks to him.

When everyone congratulates him next practice, Demetri barely hears. He’s just numb. All he can see is Eli, curled up and crying on the dirty cement floor. When Tory tells him she didn’t think he was going to do it, all he can manage out is that Miyagi-Do had it coming for hurting Miguel.

And as if his week can’t get any worse, here come Kyler and his goons sauntering into the dojo like they own the damn place. Demetri does his best to convince Mr. Kreese this is by no means a wise idea, but the sensei will not hear of it.

When Kyler and Brucks realize who he is, it only makes Demetri more livid. “Oh shit, it’s the yogurt backpack kid! Lip’s little friend! I thought he moved away!” When a fighting ring is formed, giving the new recruits a chance to “earn their spot,” Demetri is all too ready for combat.

He’s horrified at how quickly Brucks takes down Mitch, how quickly his friend is ushered out the door. It was bad enough to see Bert go, but this...this is different.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alone.

When Kyler steps forward, looking for an opponent, Demetri volunteers before anyone else can. Mr. Kreese shoots him a surprised look, but he doesn’t care. This fucko has been making his life hell for years--he can already tell this is going to be therapeutic.

Demetri doesn’t hold back. The fight has barely started before Kyler’s had enough. A few fast hits and his lip’s already bloody, and he’s backing away. “No...please stop...”

And suddenly Demetri’s back in the library, on that afternoon that seems like an eternity ago, watching Kyler grip Eli by the throat. Hearing him sneer “who would ever want to kiss THAT shit?” like Eli was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen. Feeling absolutely powerless, hand clutching the back of a chair as he burned with rage that had nowhere to go.

Well, he wasn’t powerless now.

And before he knows it Demetri has Kyler pinned to the ground, landing punch after punch to his face. Because, he realizes, at the end of the day, who gives a fuck if Eli’s on the other side?

That’s still his Eli, even after everything. The same Eli he stood by for over 10 years, the same Eli who he wished so long that he could protect from everything, the same Eli who felt like he had to constantly hide a tiny red line on his face because his peers collectively decided--for no good reason at all--that it was ugly.

And maybe he couldn’t make those people hurt the way he wanted to then, but right now...well, he could hurt at least one. And that was enough.

He doesn’t stop until Kyler is practically pulverized and his hands are drenched in blood. After throwing his last punch, he smirks, leaning down to whisper into Kyler’s ear.

“Now who’d want to kiss THAT shit? That’s right, asshole--I remember.”

Demetri kicks Kyler’s limp form as he walks away. He shoots Brucks a glare as he falls back in line--just for good measure.

When Miguel comes back to school, Demetri’s one of the first to greet him at the door. “Cobra Kai’s still going strong! It’s going to be great to have you back!” He’s a little confused as to why Miguel seems so hesitant, but he doesn’t worry too much about it--they can sort through all that later.

Miguel’s certainly taken aback by the clunky cast he sees on Eli’s arm when he runs into him in the hall--but perhaps even moreso by the fact that he has both shamelessly dyed his hair blue and spiked it up in a mohawk and is currently walking the school hallways with Moon on his (unbroken) arm. As it turns out, once word got back to Moon that Yasmine was the one who had shamelessly whispered around the school about Demetri being gay, she had broken things off with her. And, with his new “coolness” upgrade, she’d taken quite a liking to Eli.

Not like she had any way of knowing he’d been planning on Yasmine’s cruel gossip, after all.

But the cast, Miguel quickly learns, has a much darker backstory than anything he could have expected.

He wastes no time confronting Demetri about it in the lunchroom. “I heard what happened with Eli. How could you do that?”

Demetri’s stomach clutches. He scowls, determined not to show his discomfort.

“Wow!” He scoffs. “We go to all the trouble of getting payback on those assholes for getting you thrown over that railing, and this is the thanks we get?”

Miguel shakes his head, horrified. “Dude, who cares what dojo Eli’s in? He’s our friend! And in any case, it’s not his fault what happened to me. What the hell were you thinking?”

I don’t know. I don’t know. Demetri’s face hardens. He can only imagine how angry Mr. Kreese would be with him if he caught him showing any kind of weakness. Any kind of second-guessing.

But he can’t help it. Glimpsing Eli in that cast for the first time...

“Look, the Miyagi-Dos were the ones who picked a fight with us,” Demetri retorts. “We just had to do what we had to so they’d back off and leave us alone. We had to finish the fight.”

Miguel pauses, looking pained. “This isn’t...this isn’t you, Demetri. You’re letting Kreese get in your head. He’s trying to manipulate you, get you to...obsess over revenge so you’ll hurt people. But I know you, and I know you don’t want to. Eli, or anyone else.”

Demetri clenches his fists. “What would you know about how I feel about Eli?”

“Look, I can’t claim I know what’s going on between you two,” Miguel amends. “But you have to believe me--Kreese is dangerous. He’s using you. He doesn’t care about you, Demetri. Just...come to Sensei Lawrence’s new dojo. Please. Things can be like they used to. You don’t have to be in this...this war.”

This gives Demetri pause. “He...made a new dojo?”

Okay, so he’s still not Mr. Lawrence’s biggest fan--the man is an asshole at the best of times. But to be able to train with Miguel again...to be able to be badass without being expected to be some soldier...

He can’t finish speaking before Brucks’s voice rings out through the cafeteria. “Look everyone, Lip’s got a dick in his hand!”

Demetri looks up to see Eli being held by the cast, eyes darting around as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Involuntarily, Demetri bristles.

And there it is again, that feeling of being the helpless kid in the library as Eli’s taunted. And even after all this time...he still hates it.

Miguel turns to him, shaking his head. “So these are your friends now? I thought you were better than that.”

And just like that, Miguel’s gone. Gone from the Cobra Kai table, gone from Demetri’s life.

It makes him wonder if he’s making a huge mistake. But he knows he can’t back out now--not when he’s this far in. Who would even want to take him back? Probably not Miguel and Mr. Lawrence--despite what Miguel said, Demetri knows there’s no way he’s going to forgive him so easily for hurting their other friend. And certainly not Eli.

What makes it even worse is seeing Eli later that day, curled up against some lockers with Moon. Moon is tracing over his cast in colored sharpie, slowly transforming the dick pic into a beautiful landscape and night sky. Eli is bragging about how the arm-breaking didn’t hurt that bad.

Demetri remembers when that soft little smile was reserved only for him, and a pit starts to form in his stomach.

Well, no use bitching. You did this to yourself.

It seems like the world is out to just make Demetri’s existence in Cobra Kai as shitty as possible these days. Mitch and Bert are gone, Miguel isn’t coming back, Brucks is being a royal douchebag like always, and perhaps worst of all, Robby Keene shows up at the dojo. Demetri tries his damndest to appeal to Mr. Kreese about how outrageous this is--this is the kid who paralyzed Miguel in the fucking first place, what’s the point of dojo-wide revenge if they just take in the main culprit like an old buddy? But of course Mr. Kreese spouts some nonsense about how they need all the help they can get for the All-Valley, and sometimes you have to be allies with people you aren’t the biggest fans of, blah blah blah. To make matters worse, Tory--not a friend exactly, but probably the closest thing Demetri’s got to one left--is getting far too chummy with Robby for Demetri’s taste.

Maybe Demetri’s insane, but it seems like more and more ridiculous shit is being handwaved in the name of...what? Winning a karate tournament? Getting revenge for a kid who’s already recovered, and doesn’t even seem to want it?

When word gets back to Cobra Kai that Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang are teaming up, Kreese sends the students on a special mission: Show the other dojos that even with their combined forces, they’re no match for Cobra Kai. It seems like a waste of time to Demetri--why antagonize other dojos just minding their business? It’s not like there was anything worth fighting for in this dumb war anymore, considering Miguel was on his feet again (literally AND figuratively). Nonetheless, Demetri finds he’s itching for a good fight--it’s been way too long since he’s charged into a full-fledged battle.

Maybe this will help him get it out of his system, if nothing else.

When the fight breaks out at the LaRussos, it doesn’t take long for Demetri to be overtaken by the thrill of it. Just like he was at the school fight. Just like he was at the tournament. He’s zipping through the house, landing kicks and punches left and right. And it feels good. With everything having been so awful lately, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt more alive.

And then he lands a fierce kick, and Brucks chest-bumps him. “Hell yeah! kick some ass! Dumb losers never had a chance.”

Brucks. The same kid who laughed when he saw Eli starting to cry about the comments he made on his lip. The same kid claiming Kyler tossing his backpack into a yogurt-filled trash can was “brute.” And now here he was trying to be buddy-buddy with him.

Everything comes crashing down on Demetri at once.

Miguel’s speech, saying Kreese is manipulating him. Saying Kreese doesn’t care about him. Kreese cherry-picking what does and doesn’t count as vengeance--hurting Eli, someone who had nothing to do with Miguel’s fall, does, but teaming up with the kid responsible for said fall apparently does not. Demetri’s friends being booted from Cobra Kai one by one, just for not being strong enough.

The sound of Eli’s screams and sobs in a dark laser tag room.

Miguel was right, wasn’t he? Kreese never cared about getting payback for him. He only cared about starting a war for his own sadistic pleasures.

Demetri hears grunting and whimpering, and he looks up to see two of the other Cobras kneeing Eli in the chest over and over. Pinning him into an arm bar.

“Yo, ‘Mete!” one calls out. “Free shot!”

Eli looks up, gaze full of fear and pain. Bright blue irises glinting with welling tears.

Once upon a time, Demetri made a promise to himself that he would stick with karate, aggravating as it may be, so he would never have to see that look on Eli’s face again. It’s time, he figures, that he finally made good on that.

His face contorts into a snarl, and he runs to Eli. Eli closes his eyes and scrunches his face, bracing for a pain that never comes.

Demetri kicks one Cobra to the wayside and smashes the other into a glass table with perhaps more force and adrenaline than he’s used all night.

When he turns to Eli, the other boy backs away, eyes still wide with terror. Demetri feels sick to his stomach, and the tears come before he can stop them.

“God, Eli, I’m so sorry,” he splutters. “I’m so fucking sorry, for everything. I don’t know what I was thinking, and it was all so fucked up, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I’ll never hurt you like that again, but if you don’t want anything to do with me now, I totally understand, and--”

“Demetri.”

“--I was so awful to you, and I didn’t listen to you, and I should’ve been there for you, and I’m such a piece of shit friend and--”

“DEMETRI!”

Finally Eli raises his voice enough that Demetri pauses. “...yeah, Eli?”

“Please stop talking. I forgive you. Now are you going to shut up and help me finish this?” He raises a hand, as if to initiate their old handshake. An olive branch.

Demetri grins so wide he thinks his face is going to break, and he grips Eli’s hand like a lifeline. Something to finally pull him out of the darkness. “Yeah.”

They’re a lethal fighting team. Between Demetri landing speedy hits and Eli protecting him and shielding them both with his bulked-up form (where did he get all that muscle? Demetri wonders), they dispatch half the Cobras in minutes. Whatever rush Demetri was feeling fighting when he first got here is nothing compared to fighting with Eli.

When they stop the fight between Tory and Sam, Tory wastes no time voicing her disdain for the ex-Cobras. “You’d better watch your back,” she spits at Demetri, and he feels a chill run through him. Turns out this girl is terrifying when she’s not fighting on your side.

Eli intercepts her as she leaves, staring her down defiantly in a very un-Eli-like manner. “You’d better watch yours,” he growls. “Touch him, and I’ll end you.”

Demetri glances over in surprise. When did Eli get so bold?

Well...he thinks he could grow to like it.

Season 4 (because fuck it)

Demetri is hardly expecting Mr. LaRusso and Mr. Lawrence to forgive him, never mind let him into their new dojo. But life has a lot of pleasant surprises in store for him, it seems, after the shitshow it recently put him through. It’s also possible Eli (and maybe Miguel too) but in a good word for him.

Demetri can’t stop apologizing to Eli. Seemingly every day, he finds a new thing to apologize for. Eli gets aggravated with it before long, having to reassure Demetri at least 50 separate times that he forgives him for everything. Nonetheless, Demetri refuses to stop--because he’ll never stop being sorry.

Or trying to find new ways to make it up to Eli. Going easy on him during sparring. Buying him lunch after practice. Helping him perfect some of the most badass Cobra moves.

Things end between Eli and Moon. Eli can’t fully elaborate on why--he just tells Demetri something didn’t feel quite right. The spark died out, like Demetri’s adrenaline rush slowly seeping away toward the end of a fight. That, and, Demetri gathers, something seems to have been distracting Eli from his girlfriend as of late.

Most likely the approaching, high stakes All-Valley. Karate is Serious Business, as they’ve both embraced now.

Rumor has it Yasmine and Moon are trying again, Yasmine realizing for seemingly the first time how awful she’s really been and making an effort to be better. Moon makes her want to be better--more than Demetri ever did, he realizes. And maybe that’s okay--he and Yasmine probably just weren’t right for each other.

Then one day, after yet another one of Demetri’s long-winded apologies, Eli offers something other than an exasperated. “It’s okay. Seriously.” There’s a pause before Eli quietly says “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?” Demetri blurts out, baffled. Everything Eli’s done has paled in comparison to his own atrocities.

“For outing you,” Eli says simply. “That was fucked. And it wasn’t my place, even if I was mad at you.”

“It’s all right.” Demetri shrugs. “You were right, anyways.”

Eli gives him a strange look. “I was?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Demetri laughs dryly. “I don’t...like girls. I pretended I did, because I felt like I was supposed to. That’s what people expect you to do when you’re a top athlete and all that. But dating Yasmine, chasing other girls, it always felt...empty. Like I was just acting out a role in a play or something. And at the end of the day, I think...” He pauses. “I think I was always looking at you.”

Because the last few months have made him realize something. Training with Eli, teaching Eli how to protect himself, watching Eli step up and defend him from the mistrusting stares and the scornful whispers...

Just how much of the person he’s become is thanks to wanting to protect Eli. The fact that that was always how all this started.

“I love you,” he blurts out, before he can stop himself. “I know I did a shitty job of showing it, and I know you were with Moon and you’re not like that, but I need you to know, and I understand if you don’t feel--”

Eli cuts him off with a fierce kiss, pinning him up against the dojo wall with unexpected aggressiveness.

When Eli pulls away, he’s smiling softly. The same smile he gave Moon in the hall as she drew on his cast--the smile that’s once again all Demetri’s.

“I love you too,” he murmurs. “Why do you think I broke up with Moon? Every time I was with her...I couldn’t stop wishing it was you. She’ll never know me like you do.”

And Kreese had better look out because Miyagi Fang’s next big power couple is a force to be reckoned with--the snarky, frighteningly fast-attacking ex-Cobra, and the buff, blue-mohawked Miyagi-Do with more inner peace than anyone would expect.

SOME RANDOM SIDENOTES ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I DIDN’T FEEL LIKE PUTTING THIS ALL IN THE TAGS

~I’m sorry if anyone is OOC in this--I know Johnny is kind of a fuck, but he genuinely WAS pretty crappy to Eli at first and who knows if he would’ve treated him any better if he didn’t “flip the script”??? ~Dark/Evil Demetri is so fun but also so awful to write--I hope you like him being an absolute fuck because the Corruption Arc is REAL ~Yes, I DO in fact fully believe Demetri would go on a crazed revenge quest just like Eli/Hawk did out of his grief for Miguel--the boy absolutely loves Miguel and arguably would want vengeance as much as Eli if their roles were swapped!!! Because Demetri cares about Miguel SO FUCKING MUCH even if it’s not as obvious as it is with Eli but that’s a rant for another post ~I included YasMoon because fuck it, I thought it’d be interesting. That and, unlike the Cobra Kai writers, I am not at all afraid of what conservative audiences will say, so I am not afraid to make things as gay as possible. ~There’s a good chance I swapped Kyler and Brucks’ places near the end solely so I could have Demetri beat the fuck out of Kyler because I just really need that ~Yes, even without formally becoming “Hawk,” Eli could learn how to be a conniving manipulative little shit if he wanted to be. Look at some of the shit he pulls with the counselor in canon Season 3!!! Boy sure as hell knows how to play the victim. ~Honestly not sure if being outed as gay is better or worse than being outed as a bed-wetter, but I had to think of something that would pack the same kind of emotional punch. In Eli’s feeble defense, the West Valley High kids don’t seem like the types to be like...especially violent against queer kids (otherwise NO WAY would Moon and Piper have been able to be that open about their relationship), they’d just be assholes about it. So Eli wasn’t putting Demetri in legit danger here so much as just opening him up to a lot of ridicule. Which is still fucked, but hey, I DID warn you this would be kind of fucked up XD ~Maybe short, concise apologies work for Eli, bUT NOT FOR DEMETRI THE RAMBLER ~Dark Demetri chasing Eli through the school like a goddamn serial killer = 10/10 gave myself a big Spook writing ~Yes, Eli does still have (and always had) his “Hawk” traits, even without the formal “transformation.” I just think his “Hawk” side would be a little more subtle and subdued if he were in Miyagi-Do, but it’s still there for sure.

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rallamajoop · 4 years ago

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The Witcher: The Games vs the Books part 2 – Characters and Accents

So, I've already talked at length about the relationship between the Witcher books and games, but how well they captured individual characters is its whole own subject – and you’d better believe I have enough thoughts on it for a whole extra post.

Andrej Sapkowski's skill for creating vivid and engaging characters really is so much of what brings the books to life, and no matter how much work an adaptation might put into worldbuilding and plot, it's the characters you've really got to nail to get the long-time fans on board. Especially when you’ve done what the games have, framing themselves as a direct continuation of Sapkowski's story. Nothing invites comparison to your source material like basically forcing fans to read the original novels to understand even half the backstory alluded to in-game.

So how did they do? I can only offer my opinion – characterisation is necessarily going to be a lot more subjective than just telling you what plot points the games contradicted outright – but like any fan, I have opinions in plenty.

Of the main cast, I feel Yennefer is the character they've captured the best. They've done just as well with some supporting players – I have no real complaints about Dijkstra or Phillipa, for example, who are favourites of mine in both games and books. For the main players though, Geralt and Regis seem to be the ones who's differences I'm most inclined to forgive, whereas I don't feel like they've done Ciri justice at all. Book!Geralt is much less of a smartarse, for one thing, whereas Book!Ciri is much more of one. But if we're talking about the differences, I’m afraid we really need to start with Dandelion.

Dandelion

For all the genuinely good work the games do with characters, old and new, I don't think I can overstate what a disservice the they've done Dandelion, who I could not stand in TW3, but is now one of my favourite book!verse characters. Alas, Dandelion is a prime example of something the Witcher games really don't do well: camp. Being the archtypical bard, Dandelion is about as flamboyant as any enthusiastically-heterosexual man can be: you should be able to spot this guy by body language alone, he should be flouncing around and he should talk like a spoiled noble auditioning for Shakespeare. Book!Dandelion is over-the-top and ridiculous and just so much fun, and I loved him well before I'd even really gotten into the rest of the books around him.

Here's just a bit of dialogue from one of his first appearances, to give you a sense of how he and Geralt play off each other.

The bard seized the fingerboard of his lute and plucked the strings vigorously. ‘How would you prefer it, in verse or in normal speech?’ ‘Normal speech.’ ‘As you please,’ Dandelion said, not putting his lute down. ‘Listen then, noble gentlemen, to what occurred a week ago near the free town of Barefield. ‘Twas thus, that at the crack of dawn, when the rising sun had barely tinged pink the shrouds of mist hanging pendent above the meadows—’ ‘It was supposed to be normal speech,’ Geralt reminded him. ‘Isn’t it? Very well, very well. I understand. Concise, without metaphors. A dragon alighted on the pastures outside Barefield.’

Though TW3's Dandelion certainly looks the part, you have to go hunting through art from the Gwent cards to find much that comes close to really capturing his personality (see left pic below – though even there, a Dandelion who'd voluntarily break his treasured lute is a very hard sell). Though a lot of fanart does better (right-below – credit goes to Tatiana Ortaliz).

But as poorly as the games capture his flamboyance, they're not that much better when it comes to taking him seriously. TW3 left me thinking he was all talk and no substance; the books make abundantly clear that he really is renowned enough to be welcome in courts across the continent. Though he often overestimates what he can talk himself out of, he isn’t stupid either: he's lectured at Oxenfurt, spied for Dijkstra, and then there are the moments where the frivolous playboy mask slips and you realise he's sometimes much better at understanding people and relationships than Geralt will ever be (which is honestly kind of funny considering how many of Dandelion’s relationships end with plates being thrown at him from an upper story). He's not at all above mocking Geralt when he deserves it either (and especially his personal and relationship issues) – Geralt will happily mock him right back.

We never do learn how they became friends (I'm pretty sure the incident listed in the wiki is just the date of their first expedition together, not their first meeting), but Geralt just doesn't form lasting friendships or romances with anyone he can't have an intelligent conversation with. And Dandelion is a damn good friend to Geralt – one who, despite being a helpless, squishy little bard, will keep Geralt's secrets under torture, or will follow him into Nilfgaard in the middle of a war simply because you don't let a friend make a trip like that alone. (Seriously, I don’t ship it nearly as much as some, but hot damn there is some material in here if you do.) In short, it's basically inconceivable that he'd leave an amnesic Geralt wandering around Vizima alone, as he does in the first Witcher game – which is the kind of thing I can mostly forgive as a gameplay conceit, only it doesn’t really get better from there.

He’s also supposed to be blond, something I don’t think is technically specified until fairly late in the novels, but 100% what I’d been picturing since his first description as a man in a colourful bonnet with cornflower-blue eyes (let’s face it: Dandelion’s hair isn’t the only thing about him that screams ‘blond’). It’s a shame no-one from the games to the show to the novels’ cover artists seem to have noticed – but at least there are some fanartists out there who were paying attention (credit for these goes to Asphaloth, Ghostcupdraws, Hvit-ravn (tumblr deleted), 94355 and itsmespicaa).

As for the games? Well, I cannot speak to how Dandelion came across in the original Polish, but I think it speaks worlds about the priorities of the English version that they didn’t even bother to cast someone with a halfway-decent singing voice as their master bard. There are isolated moments of dialogue that come close to sounding like book!Dandelion– mostly in Witcher 2, which comes closer to capturing the spirit of the books than either 1 or 3, or his attempts to convince his captor he's a disguised noble when you rescue him TW3 – but his voice actor is just painfully ill-suited to the role.

Geralt

Geralt fares much better than Dandelion, though he’s still a little hard to square with the Geralt of the books. Book!Geralt spends a lot more time sulking, just to begin with: he sulks because his job is complicated and gets him no respect, and because the world is unjust and unfair – and, most of all, he sulks because Yennefer has dumped him again. He also gets mocked for sulking, and usually deserves it. Book!Geralt is generally a lot more taciturn and a less prone to making smart comments just to have something to say – arguably because in book!Geralt's world, making smart comments often ends at the gallows, or at least with some corrupt official making your life much harder. Book!Geralt's world kind of sucks, and he's just got to put up with it.

As much as he often plays into the expectations of being an uneducated monster hunter, he's also got a more of an intellectual streak than you’d guess. He may prefer to stay out of politics (because damnit, his job is to save people from monsters, not people who are monsters), but he attended school at Nenneke's temple and has even taken classes at Oxenfurt academy, and there's a lot of thoughtful nuance to his opinions – his speech to Ciri about why he can't in good conscience take a stronger stance against the Scoiata'el contains a wealth of historical perspective, just for one example. Even his smart comments tend to be, well, somewhat smarter in the books.

Book!Geralt’s explicitly a lot younger than Yennefer – around 50 is the usual estimate, falling far short of the 100-ish the games suggest (the scandal of having a man fall for – gasp! – an older woman clearly didn’t bother Sapkowski one bit). You don’t see nearly as much "I'm getting too old for this" from book!Geralt, who's really not that old by witcher standards, and is apparently still hunting monsters long into his future. I'm also a little annoyed by the way they play off his hatred of portals like he's a grumpy old man who doesn't like mobile phones, when his distrust originally came from having seen the gruesome deaths that result when portals go wrong. This is not to say Book!Geralt lacks other ordinary human flaws, however – twice in the last two books of the main saga, he gets severely sidetracked after his ego gets the better of him (in the adulation he receives after being knighted, then after arriving in Toussaint), and it's quite some time before he properly gets back on track for that whole rescuing-Ciri thing again. He’s also pretty hopeless when it comes to romance and relationships – breaking things off gracefully is really not in his skillset.

So why does game!Geralt not bother me more? Well, he's the main player character of a game franchise, and one who has to carry the experience largely solo. Some adjustments for genre are pretty much inevitable in that position. He's certainly fared better than Meve, for example, who's been softened far more from her book characterisation for her PC role in Thronebreaker. Then there's the whole amnesia thing – it's easy to believe that sort of experience would change a man – and if he doesn't sulk so much as he used to, maybe he's grown up a bit. Geralt's also in many ways the straight-man of Sapkowski's Witcher universe – there largely as the reliable centre for other, louder personalities to play off. But I expect the real bottom line here is that I do still like game!Geralt enough to forgive him a lot of what he lacks.

The books never do describe Geralt as being very attractive – something book-based fanart often tries to reflect. The point has been made before that the rather-alien-looking Geralt of the first game (left pic above) is probably a lot closer to his book-description. However, the main distinguishing factor you’ll see in book-based fanart is probably the ubiquitous headband, which genuinely is what book!Geralt wears to make his hair behave (the example on the right above comes from Diana Novich).

All that said, if Sapkowski really wants me to believe that nearly so many women are eager to jump into bed with him, I’m going to have to shallowly assume our witnesses are unreliable on this front, and Geralt is at least as attractive as Witcher 3′s take on him. Nothing else makes sense. *g*

Regis

Regis varies mostly in that book!Regis is a lot more smug, sometimes verging on obnoxious – and a lot keener to make fun of Geralt (who generally deserves it). But then, Regis is old and wise and superpowered enough to dance rings around most everyone else – can you blame him? By Blood and Wine, Regis' overconfidence has been recently smacked down hard after his near-death-experience at the hands of Vilgefortz, and that kind of thing could knock some chips off anyone's shoulder. Throw in the fact that with Dettlaff, we have a situation not even Regis could make light of, and the changes to game!Regis make a certain amount of sense.

I do feel it's a bit of a shame that the vocal direction didn't work just a little bit harder to capture some of Regis' smugger side, or emphasise that his long-winded philosophising on human behaviour is supposed to sound a bit pretentious. This is actually something I suspect they were going for a few times in the script, but which didn't come through in the dialogue quite the way it was meant to. Still, again, I'm sure I'm biased by the fact that I like game!Regis far too much to find much fault in what they've done with him. They've done a lovely job capturing his friendship with Geralt too.

Looks-wise, there's a tendency in book-based art to portray Regis with long hair (even some pre-Blood-and-Wine Gwent art did so – see the two pics on the left above, from Gwent and early B&W concepts. The right-most pic is cover art from the books). I couldn't rightly tell you where long-haired-Regis comes from, though – perhaps it's described more explicitly in the original Polish, or perhaps it comes up in passing in some passage I've forgotten, though it may just as well just be a fannish meme.

The books do describe him as looking rather like a tax collector, slim, middle-aged, with an aquiline nose, prone to wearing black, and his hair as 'greying' or 'grey streaked', so presumably somewhat younger-looking than the game would have it. The hammer-horror-esque sideburns are likewise a game-verse addition, though I do like the look they went with – it's distinct from Geralt in a way that making him another long-grey-haired man wouldn't have been, and that's probably the point.

Being the hopeless Regis fan I am, I have quite the folder full of different fanart takes on book!Regis, so have a selection – art here is by gellihana-art, justanor, greysmartwolf, Nastyaskaya, NatalyLanier, beidak, natalliel, ellaine and afternoon63. For what it’s worth, I feel beidak’s (bottom pic, second from the left) comes the closest to what I’d have pictured personally, based on how he’s first described.

Ciri

I find it much harder to rationalise the changes to game!Ciri, who I didn't exactly dislike, but found stuck too close to the role of generic-macguffin-girl-who-just-wants-to-be-normal to be very interesting. Having read the books, not only do I much prefer book!Ciri, I'm not sure I can emphasize enough how much the game did NOT prepare me for utter gauntlet of whump and misery that girl survives in the last four titles. Book!Ciri is a character who works for me mostly because of the same flaws the game mostly strips her free of – TW3 makes some token noise about how you can't tell her what to do, but she’s an utter little royal brat when we first meet book!Ciri, and it’s so much of what brings her to life. She throws herself into her witcher training with the enthusiasm of a kid going completely native, but still revels in getting to be girly for a change when Triss first arrives at Kaer Morhen. She hates Yennefer at first, but soon bonds with her just as strongly as she ever did with Geralt, picking up some of Yennfer’s haughty mannerisms along the way. And then she gets thrown through a portal and lost in the distant wilderness, and the whole world comes down on her head.

The build up to the first time Ciri actually has to kill someone is intense... and things only get worse from there. Steadily. For another couple of novels at a stretch. Seriously, a major caveat that pretty much has to go into any rec for these books (and I will absolutely rec these books) is that Ciri's story gets heavy. So heavy one finds oneself using phrases like, "that time that one guy died of his wounds on top of her while semi-consensually feeling her up was honestly one of the less traumatic incidents in the period."

By the end of the novels, Ciri has nearly died of thirst, been beaten, tied up, dragged around the country as a prisoner, run with bandits and killed innocent people for the fun of it, done fantasy-cocaine and got a tattoo, fought off more than one attempted rape, been drugged, lain for multiple nights next to an impotent elf who completely fails to impregnate her, watched the bodies of her friends and girlfriend being mutilated in front of her, and did I mention where she got that scar? She has survived hell, and it is absolutely a testament to her own strength that she somehow comes through it and puts herself back together at the end. When Geralt finally arrives to rescue her, what matters most isn't that her ordeal is over, but that she finally knows she hasn’t been abandoned by everyone who’d ever loved her after all.

The Ciri of the books is fierce and wild and arrogant, but she's learned her morals from the best, and she holds onto them until she can't, then picks them back up again when she can, and above all she survives. For all that her story turns arguably too much of the last two books into a slog of misery, oh boy does it pay off at the end. And that's probably about as much as I can say about her Big Moment in the last book without spoiling too much, so suffice to say that by the end of the saga, Geralt has pretty much become a supporting character in Ciri's story, not the other way around. (Seriously, you’d be surprised how few chapters of the last two books he’s actually in.)

Finding art which captures the aspects of Ciri’s character and history which are missing from the game has turned out to be pretty hard, though the fanart above from her bandit phase takes a decent crack at it (credit to Loles Romero and NastyaSkaya). I do rather like that one shot of her on horseback beside her girlfriend too, which comes from Denis Gordeev’s illustrations for the novels (below).

How much of this does TW3 get across with her portrayal in the game? Well, she's still pretty headstrong, I guess. And they let you give a 'sorry, I like girls' answer in one bit of dialogue, so they remembered her girlfriend existed. That's nice. But game!Ciri still has a kind of wide-eyed innocence that book!Ciri lost years ago, while book!Ciri is a little force of nature in ways the games hardly even hint at, and that's a really shameful loss.

You'd think, with a character so young, it ought to be easier to imagine she's simply grown up since we saw her last, but so much of what's changed about Ciri feels like a step back rather than forwards. I can shrug off Geralt and Regis' differences and still enjoy their game-verse-selves, but Ciri leaves me genuinely disappointed.

I’d say the official art that comes closest to capturing book!Ciri is that one portrait of her as a very grumpy young child (right above). Some of the early concept art (left above) feels a little more like it has her attitude, though she’s rather too yellow-blonde – not to mention too pretty. I think it also bears pointing out that Ciri isn’t really supposed to be the kind of beauty she is in the game – even before she gets what’s meant to be a seriously ugly and disfiguring scar. (Fanart below by justanor and bobolip)

But of course, the male gamer fanbase can’t be expected to give a fuck about a girl they wouldn’t want to fuck, so game!Ciri must be generically gorgeous. Le sigh.

Triss

I suppose I should at least touch on Triss, too, though she's a very odd case. She's so out of character in the first Witcher game that I am wryly amused that the biggest thing they arguably do get right is that taking advantage of Geralt the moment he showed up with amnesia is... pretty well in-character for her (look, I gotta be honest here, I'm not much of a fan of Triss in any of her incarnations).

The second game does a much better job with her – she actually feels like book!Triss, she has some good dialogue, we're finally dealing with some of her conflicted loyalties to the Lodge and to Geralt – though by the third, her characterisation has been so softened into “the nice one” that none of that potentially meaty conflict is ever resolved, or even really mentioned. Perhaps there's more buried in the Triss-romance path, which I've never bothered with, but the writers seem to have just given up on dealing with anything that might make her look less than wholly sympathetic. Heck, we hardly even get a clear statement about why she and Geralt broke up between Witchers 2 and 3.

Even speaking as such a not-a-fan of Triss, I promise there is more they could've done with the character the books give us. There's her ongoing trauma in from the Battle of Sodden, where she was injured so badly she was memorialised as one the dead: the 14th of the hill. There's her furious impatience with the neutrality of both the witchers and the Lodge: Triss has fought and died for a cause, and is ready to do so again. The second game sort of gets into this, but by and large, the games really aren't up to tackling the moral complexity of having such a theoretically-sympathetic character as Triss, who was still broadly willing to go along with the Lodge's plans to pair Ciri off and get her pregnant as soon as possible – her own wishes be damned. No, instead, Triss has conveniently left the Lodge before the rest of them go spiraling into abject villainy in the second game, clearing all that messy grey stuff out of the conflict.

Of course, the really big unresolved plot point still hanging over book!Triss is how badly she needs to terms with the fact Geralt's just Not That Into Her, and never has been – but since the games want Triss to be a serious romantic option, that's definitely not getting the resolution it could've used.

Book!Triss also pointedly avoids any outfit with a plunging neckline because her chest is covered with the ugly scars she received in the Battle of Sodden, something the games did not have the guts to reproduce. In a more confusing note, the books do consistently describe her hair as 'chestnut', which we'd usually think of as meaning 'brown' – though it turns out the games actually may not have been wrong to make her a redhead, since in Poland 'chestnut hair' apparently mean dark red hair (google some pictures of actual chestnuts, and you'll see why). Still, the firy-red-haired Triss of TW3 who wears nothing but plunging necklines remains a bit of a stretch, however you slice it. Once again, TW2 gets her best (and I must say, gave her the nicest outfit) – though even here she's conspicuously unscarred in all her sex scenes.

(Leftmost pic above is official Witcher 2 art, whereas Triss-with-scars fanart comes to us – once again – from nastyaskaya)

Shani

Shani sort of falls into a similar category as Triss as someone who isn't terribly well-served by any of her appearances, given that both exist in the first game largely to compete for Geralt's attentions. But I can't honestly say I find Shani’s portrayal in the Hearts of Stone expansion to be much better – the degree to which either version exists solely to fall all over Geralt is a bit painful, especially given that their relationship in the books is limited to a single, undramatic hook-up. Book!Shani really only appears in a couple of chapters: we meet her as a medical student friend of Dandelion's, who's been surreptitiously selling pilfered university supplies to fund her degree, then later see her again in the final book, where she proves herself as a battlefield medic during the climactic Battle of Brenna. She's pragmatic to a fault, and I really can't see her as the type who needs Geralt to point out to her that her patient is dead, for example, or who'd subject a guy with Geralt's problems to such an extended feelings-dump as you'll get out of her during the wedding.

Shani is a reasonably logical book-character to bring back, if only because she’s one of those who explicitly survives the ending, but for my money, "serious contender for Geralt's affections" is just not a role she works in.

Anna Henrietta

The duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta, is another case who differs more from her book counterpart than you might think. In the books, the duchess is by far the least competent of the (pleasantly many and) various female leaders and rulers we meet – she comes across as rather young and naive, and every bit as absurd as everyone else in the ridiculous fairy-tale duchy she rules. She is, for example, most displeased to learn that Nilfgaard's war against the north is ongoing (something her courtiers have carefully avoided mentioning in her presence), because she'd long since sent the Emperor a stern note demanding he brought it to an end. She promptly has one of her ministers sent to the tower for misinforming her, and demands the others prepare an even sterner note for the emperor, which will surely do the job.

After Dandelion (inevitably) cheats on her, she has him repeatedly sent to the gallows, only to change her mind and send him a reprieve at the very last minute each time. Picture yourself a much younger and prettier version of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, and you've about got her general vibe.

Blood and Wine sort of waves at this part of her character when she first speaks about Dandelion, and again in suggesting there's a widespread feeling she lacks compassion, and once more as she proves utterly immovable on the subject of her sister. But the generally sensible and insightful woman you deal with for most of the main story is a far cry from her book-verse characterisation. That’s a bit of a shame, because I feel like there's a lot more they could have done to blend the two versions of her. Still, it’s hard to argue the duchess we get suits the story being told around her.

Other characters

Much as I love Yennefer, Dijkstra and Phillipa, I don't really have much more to say about them because I feel the games have done such a good job. The Yennefer of the books gets to show a lot more depth and complexity simply because she has more scenes and more space in which to do so, but when ‘there isn’t more of her’ is your biggest complaint, the game is officially doing pretty well. I could certainly gripe her about how “dresses in black and white” seems to have been taken as “dresses in black with maybe a trace of white trim”, or how Yennefer and Triss seem to be the only sorceresses in the world capable of wearing pants, when Phillipa (just for one) is in sensible men’s clothing the very first time we meet her, but that’s getting into serious nitpicking territory.

(Not that Yen can’t look amazing in outfits with more white – art by Emily Caroll, theclashofqueens, BarbaraRosiak, and cosplay by greatqueenlina)

Vesimir, Lambert and Eskel, Geralt's fellow witchers from the School of the Wolf, fall into a similar category for me – though we spend far less time with them in the books, everything we see of them in the games feels like a fairly logical extension of their book-roles. Vesimir is somewhat over-played as the old fogey, and his death is painfully cliched, but the impact on the characters and Kaer Morhen still hits home – and the games do some especially great work expanding Lambert into a much more complex character. To my mind, the only shame is that more of the book-original characters didn't get the same treatment.

Who have I missed? There's Avallac'h, of course, but I think I've got him pretty well covered by that last post. Zoltan, perhaps inevitably, has had his personality largely flattened into 'generic dwarf', with nothing better to do than hang around Geralt and Dandelion. You wouldn't know Book!Zoltan was apparently incapable of turning away women and children in need, for example – even human women and children with the chronic inability to say thankyou for his help. Or that he eventually admits to Geralt that the luggage he and his friends are carrying comes from a decidedly unsavoury source for such a supposedly charitable, upstanding guy. Yes, even Zoltan gets to be a morally complicated character in the books – who knew?

Speaking of dwarves, pleased as I am that Yarpen Zigren gets remembered in TW2, he's an odd one to talk about, since even in the books, he appears to have had a substantial personality transplant between his two main appearances. Yarpen’s a largely comedic figure in The Bounds of Reason short story, where he cheerfully admits to having considered letting his men knock down a particularly pompous aristocrat and piss all over him to teach him a lesson, but he’s evolved into a studious voice of reason against the scoiata'el by Blood of Elves. TW2 doesn't do a particularly good job of capturing either version, which I suspect probably bothered me more than most people – I liked the later book-incarnation of Yarpen immensely (and not even just because he's one of few ever to really call Triss out on just how much she needs to stop misreading Geralt's friendship as anything more than it is). His chapter in Blood of Elves packs a hell of a punch.

On the subject of accents

I do have to wonder if I'd have warmed up to characters like Triss, Shani and Dandelion (or even Letho) more if they'd only had halfway decent voice actors. It's not just that none are exactly leading the talent at the acting part of the job, it's that their American accents stick out in TW3 like a sore thumb.

Geralt mostly gets away his own US accent by dint of being the very first character we meet, so we've gotten used to the way he talks long before we notice how he stands out – hell, maybe that's just how they talk down in Rivia (hilariously, book!Geralt eventually reveals he's not even from Rivia, but simply picked the place and taught himself the accent so he could feel a bit less like the abandoned foundling he is, which only gives us yet more excuse for why his accent might sound a bit weird). More importantly, Geralt is meant to stand out, to be the outsider wherever he goes, so having him sound like no-one else fits the character.

But neither Triss or Dandelion are "of Rivia", and by the time they show up we've had dozens of hours in a game where literally everyone else sounds British, or Scottish, or Irish, or vaguely-eastern-European in the case of the Nilfgaardians. So why do these weirdos sound like no-one else on the continent?

The short answer seems to be that every character with an American accent in TW3 is someone who had an American accent in at least one of the previous games, which were way looser with their casting and had enough incidental American accents around that they didn't stand out. Clearly, by TW3, consistency with prior games has been prioritised over consistency with literally anything else we’re hearing.

Gaetan is an exception to the rule as the only new character (at least that I caught) with an American accent – presumably because between Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, Berengar, and Letho (and cohorts), some sort of 'witchers have American accents' rule has been pretty well established (another random American-accented witcher shows up in Thronebreaker, just to underline the point). We're going to mostly ignore Jad Karadin here, since his British accent is presumably a recent affectation to go with his new identity, and so makes sense.

This still doesn't really work though, since Letho’s school is all the way down in Nilfgaard (land of the Eastern European accents), while the oldest witcher from Kaer Morhen (Vesimir) is the one guy with a British accent. He sounds nothing like any of his students, despite the fact he's logically the guy they ought to have learned their accents from. So the logic falls in a heap however you slice it, and I'm thrown right out of the game.

With TW3 as your intro to the series, it feels almost as if characters like Triss and Dandelion have been assigned American accents because they're just too important to be saddled with the same pedestrian British accents as everyone else, which did nothing to endear them to me. The only one I eventually warmed up to was Lambert, and then only because he's just such a bitter asshole that he eventually goes full circle and comes out the other side (somewhere around when you've heard his miserable backstory, then gotten drunk together and told him how much you love him, man). Gaetan similarly snuck in under the same clause – American accents clearly work better for me in this series when attached to characters you're supposed to find pretty insufferable on first impressions.

Some final notes

To conclude, it seems only fair to throw in a quick nod to some of the more memorable book-characters who don't appear in the games. Neither Mother Nenneke (Geralt's sort-of-surrogate mother) or Vissena (Geralt's biological mother) ever appear either, alas – Vissena doesn't even merit so much as a Gwent card, which seems quite the wasted opportunity.

Milva, Cahir and Angouleme – the three remaining companions of Geralt’s who died alongside Regis but who were not so easily resurrected – naturally don’t appear. But nor are even really mentioned in all the games, which seems rather less than they deserve after giving their lives to Geralt's cause.

Cahir and Angouleme do at least have pretty badass Gwent cards to their names, though I am properly offended that Milva (who has the dubious honour of being my very favourite book character who doesn't ever appear in the games) is stuck with a card of her freaking death scene – which not only gets the scene wrong (believe me, there was no grimacing and gripping the arrow buried shallowly in her chest for poor Milva), but doesn't even bother to get her hair the right colour, for fuck’s sake. Basically, Milva was a stone cold badass and absolutely deserves better. #justice4milva

One can only guess how I'd have felt about some of these characters had I read the books before playing the games – I am obviously biased towards forgiving changes to characters whom I liked in their game incarnations, regardless of how they compare. Still, I think it does speak wonders that there still all these characters who suddenly made sense only after I'd met them in the books.

Even if only for Dandelion and Ciri, I can only dream of seeing a bit more of the book-original characterisations make it into the collective fannish consciousness. There's nothing wrong with getting into the canon purely based on the show or the games, but having read Sapkowski's novels, it's no longer any mystery how they spawned this massive franchise. That the saga wasn’t even fully available in English until well after Witcher 3 was released – a solid couple of decades late, and long after it had already been translated into Russian, French, German, Spanish and more – is a real shame. For once, it’s us in the anglophone world who’ve been missing out: these books deserve so much more than to be thought of as a footnote to the games or the show.

#Dandelion #Witcher novels #Jaskier #Ciri #Regis #Geralt of Rivia #meta #The Witcher #long post is even longer this time #I blame everyone who gave me such lovely feedback on that last post *g*

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inventors-fair · 3 years ago

Text

Epithet Commentary

So, this ended up being a fairly popular contest. I think the prompt was really open and creative, but limiting enough that it wasn’t overwhelming. You all did a pretty good job with it, and I’m happy with the turn out.

Some themes I noticed? One was board wipes. A lot of legendary creatures have some sense of power or finality to their epithets. They’re all the biggest, or the strongest, or the most powerful of whatever they are. It led to a lot of ways to kill things, and a lot of black cards. I was impressed with the non-creatures as well: I was expecting a lot of enchantments and auras effectively granting the epithet to something, but there were a decent amount of spells, and even a few artifacts. In general I was impressed with the cleverness this week. Some people had a lot of fun throwing curve-balls. Picking cleverest reinterpretation wasn’t easy.

Enough talk, on to the talking! BTW, if there’s two paragraphs for an entry, the first is an art direction submitted by the designer.

@bread-into-toast - Archive Keeper

mood: flightless aven librarian, suspended in a cavernous maze of shelves

I like what you’re going for here. That first ability sounds really cool, and I could see it being sort of a build-around theme. I don’t know about uncommon, though. There would have to be quite a few ways to put cards into a library in the format, maybe a keyword that does it, like if flashback tucked instead of exiled. The exact wording of this would make cascade particularly scary if it were in the same format. I also like the flavor, caring for a literal library, and the art is great. Now lets get to my big issue with this: the activated ability. I do really like that you gave the card a way to trigger its first ability, but I think you went a little too aggressive with it. First, unless the format is particularly bad it it, this keyword is going to always be active. It’s cheap and requires a very easy resource to get. The fact that it stacks with multiple of these guys is also scary, especially with it being uncommon. Second, it’s off-color. I know it’s your own graveyard, so it’s not like it’s graveyard hate, but blue has never done this. White does it a little. Also, even though they’re separate, it does sort of read U: This creature gets +1/+0 and gains flying until EOT. That really isn’t blue. That’s fire breathing. Blue doesn’t get fire-breathing, at least not for a very, verly long time. White gets it very, very rarely, but I think it might be fine here. I know the colors are an attempt to put this card in the colors of “putting things in libraries,” which I think is good, but the exact payoff for doing it isn’t quite right.

@chungus-supreme - Lich Queen

Interesting take on Lich. Almost like a mix of Lich and Recycle. The number of permanents you have when you play this will never change. Unless of course you’re playing reanimator or something. It’s especially scary if you’re playing non-permanent cards. These types of cards are rather hard to judge, since saying “this is very swingy and will either lose or win you the game with no inbetween” is kind of the point. Putting lich on a creature is especially awkward since it leaves her open to wraths or sweepers. I do like how she doesn’t technically kill you, so she works will in lich-tribal decks which are more common than you’d expect. Still, I don’t think these kinds of cards are healthy for the game, even if they are fun and silly. They just lead to very simple “do you have it or not?” scenarios which can lead to sour players. Still, as I said, a neat take on the archetype.

@corporalotherbear - Young Conqueror

Art direction: A haughty young man, surrounded by kicked and humbled servants, wearing a crown reminiscent of the horns of a certain elder dragon planeswalker.

What an brat. I get what this card is doing. I like how the “young” part denotes its small power toughness, but the high mana cost and splashy ability makes it feel powerful. I don’t know if I quite agree with “conquerer” specifically, since it takes away from your opponents but doesn’t give you anything. I think that’s kinda minor. I like the ability itself, and I think it's probably costed right. The lose 1 life is mostly trinket text, but the other two effects are pretty strong. ETB discard is at two mana, ETB one-sided sacrifice isn’t actually super common, but on spells its about 2 mana, so a combined four mana is probably okay once you factor in the three colors (and it being a rare, unlike the cards I’m using as an example). I’m going to ignore the personal part of me that dislikes blink decks and aggressive ETB effects and say that this is something wizards would think is okay. And at least this loses value as the game goes on or against specific decks. So in total, I like it. And it’s a good use of this week’s challenge!

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion - Royal Scion

Well isn’t that a pretty boy. So I get the treasure part. But I don’t get the last ability. You can spend money to save things? I don’t quite get what story you’re trying to tell. Mechanically, the card is fine, but there’s a few tiny issues. First, the last ability I believe can target itself. As in, you can sacrifice an artifact to make itself indestructible. Not very intuitive, but I expect it will happen often. That will essentially make this guy a 2/2 that comes with a 1/1, with a little utility. I guess that’s okay. The second issue is I don’t know where this guy is going. Treasure decks and artifact decks have less in common than you might expect: the former are aggressive and usually base red, the latter are usually slow and base blue. They both occasionally show up in white or black, but neither probably want a small body that gets you a few chump blockers and protect some stuff. At uncommon I could see this in maybe an artifact heavy set or a set with treasure synergies, but I’m having some difficulty. I think this guy is fine, but I’m just not a big fan of it.

@demimonde-semigoddess - Heart of Fire

Love the art there, it’s very evocative and really seals the card. I’m also surprised to see cipher; I’ve always thought the mechanic was cool, but it’s hard to do well. I think you may have fallen into the trap as well. This card is very strong. Two damage will usually be able to get at least a single blocker out of the way, and then you get to cast this card again for free most of the time. Most cipher cards were costed as though you were going to get two free casts a turn. The “draw a card” one costs four mana, for example, because it usually comes out as a divination + a curiosity rather than a cantriping curiosity. So this card ends up being really close to a reckless rage that you can go face with and can be recast. Think about Direct Current, which was also a sorcery and also cost you another resource and was 3 mana but still saw lots of limited play. I do like the fact that the card deals damage to the creature it’s encoded on, but because of how cipher works it’s hard to make it feel necessary. Unless the creature has trample, the damage is pretty much going to be all or nothing. Dealing small amounts of damage to your own creature is most relevant before combat. Doing damage after doesn’t usually matter unless it kills it. But it still makes it a cost: you can get another copy of it, but it’ll cost you a small creature. Despite all of my issues, I still like the card. It’s creative and flavorful, it’s just the sort of card that could dominate games, and should not be at common.

@dimestoretajic - Torch of Defiance

I don’t know what to say. It’s a good card. It’s got a very basic pump with a slightly fancier extra ability, and it feels flavorful. The defiance part is a little weak, but I get it. I also think you maybe could have upped one of the costs, or made the equip not have red. As is, it’s stronger than a lot of menace-granting equipment, and it even lets you spread it around. But maybe that’s just me wanting to play it safe. Anyway, card is good! I’m very happy with this one.

@fractured-infinity - Shifting Flame

What an amusing little card. The name helps me picture something, but not an equipment. However, seeing it, I actually like that interpretation. The idea of “wielding” a flame is a cool idea. The effect is cool, though a little weird. It reminds me a lot of balefire dragon, a 7 mana mythic, but maybe the fact that it needs a body and time to set up helps bring it down. I do enjoy some of the safety valves, such as it being double red, meaning it's harder to put it on a deathtoucher, and how it’s all or nothing, so you can’t remove the absolute minimum and have an easily repeatable board wipe. I’m still unsure how much I like this card exactly. Outside of balefire and shockmaw dragon, this effect is pretty rare. At a minimum, it turns a creature into shockmaw. Getting a blazing volley every turn is stronger than it sounds. It makes it hard to build up a board or get your smaller creatures bigger. I do like that, the longer this sits out, the more likely it turns into “equipped creature must be blocked.” Even with all the setup required, I’m a little scared of a reusable one-sided board wipe that just sits out until it's necessary. Granted, I’m not as scared to print this as a lot of cards, but I’d just want to see how it plays first. I think you made a cool card with a unique ability that could end up being a little too hard to come back from without direct answers.

@gayagendaofficial - Heretical Healer

For the art, I imagine a human man pulling a corpse out of a grave. The corpse is not yet fully out of the grave, but the man is already measuring it and preparing to saw off a limb.

Wow, this card is nuts! It’s a repeatable reanimator with very little effort. First, let me address some templating. After the “mill three cards” text, you can have the next sentence be connected. As in, “mill three cards, then you may...” Also, you don’t need to say “under your control” because it’s already coming from your graveyard, so it’s kind of assumed. Okay the card. So, if you play this card, as long as you have two creatures i your graveyard, this reanimates a creature. If you’re playing four of these guys, it’s entirely possible to play this, mill another, then reanimate it, then mill a clone, then clone this guy and do it again. If you’ve ever played when Gyruda combo was a thing, I could see this doing something similar. However, the card itself is pretty cool, and I think it’s worth saving. One option you have is just increasing the cost: I would suggest up to seven mana. Another thing you could do is restrict what you can reanimate, sort of like Gyruda. Perhaps it can only exile or only reanimate the cards it just milled? Or maybe come up with some other restriction, like it having to be a creature with a certain mana value or something. In summary, I like this card’s design, but it’s a little too easy to just be way too powerful in a good enough deck.

@ghoulcalculator64 - Dungeon Warden

I love cards like this. O-ring effects that care about what you O-ringed. How very “imprint” like of you. However, the connect doesn’t quite feel right to me. The two effects feel like they’re pushing in completely different directions. Banisher Pirest effects are best in aggressive decks, where having a removal spell on a creature is super relevant, and you can hopefully kill them before they get their creature back. The card draw half of this feels really weird in that style of deck. It seems really strange to have a ticking time bomb like this that just sits there to draw you cards. The high mana cost doesn’t help with that, but I don’t think it could be any cheaper, either. There’s also the fact that it can target your own creature. That feels really antithetical to the design, and can lead to shenanigans that are really counterintuitive to new players. That also sort of ties to one of the first (yet less legitimate) complaints about the card, which is that I think the last ability needs better flavor. I remember in the Discord you mentioned it was supposed to represent interrogating a prisoner for information. But if that were the case, wouldn’t you be exiling your opponent’s graveyard? And if you are allowed to target your own stuff, would you be interrogating yourself? Like I said, this is a little more nit-picky-y, but it really makes that last ability feel disconnected. If I hadn’t seen the Discord message, I wouldn’t have known what it was representing at all. I’ll also say that referring to “the exiled card” even though the card exiles a lot of cards is confusing, but I don’t really know a way to fix that. With all that said, I still don’t think this is a bad card. It’s well designed, creative, and although I say it pushes in opposite directions, sometimes that makes it more viable as a “Plan B” sort of card.

@gollumni - Sun’s Nemesis

Boy, this guy sure does hate the Sun! A little direct on the interpretation here. The white mana symbol is literally a sun, and red mana is… hot. I do love it being a shade, that feels like such a great flavor choice. Mechanically, gotta say I don’t like this card. There’s nothing an opponent can really do once this card hits play. The only real “fun” I think you can have with this card is playing a blood moon, but I don’t know if blood moon leads to fun games anyway. It’s also strange to have a card that does literally nothing but be an overcosted flyer in a lot of matchups. I think the fact that this triggers on every mana is also a bit much. If it cared about the spells being cast, even if it cared about mana costs, that would feel more fair. But right now it’s just so all or nothing, and so easy to make a mistake on. It also will lead to some more annoying players saying “do you tap it for blue or for white?” when a player uses their hallowed fountain to cast a colorless artifact. I get the style here, and I think it’s a really fun way to make a nemesis of the sun, but I think this card leads to unfun games.

@helloijustreadyourpost - Torch of Defiance

I do like the flavor of this card, and the art really helps with that. I like the fact that it just keeps getting stronger and stronger as the game goes on. However, I think it needed to make them stronger. In order to get the first counter, you need to pay a total of 5 mana and have your creature die from damage, all before getting a single amount of value from it. After you do that, though, it can finally start to snowball. Unless they have a bounce spell. What I’m saying is that this card is really fragile. Compare it to Malefic Scythe, which is cheaper, lower rarity, starts with a counter, and works with sacrifice outlets. While I know the damage clause feels correct, I think it’s putting too many restrictions on this card. If you wanted to avoid combos, I think “and it wasn’t sacrificed” would have really helped with that. You could also let counters be put on it when any creature dies form damage, not just the equipped one. I also think you have some extra space to put text on the front of it, so it could grant something while it’s still empty. Menace would be the most obvious and on color, but about anything could work. I could also see it starting with a counter. I like the auto-attach, but it’s really all this card has going for it, and I think it’s hard to take advantage of this card enough to be worth putting it in a deck.

@hiygamer - Cursed Huntsman // Primal Hunter

Fun fact: I have signed foil copies of both of the cards you used for art here. I will not let that color my opinion of the card. Luckily the card is pretty good anyway! I love a good, simple, well-made vanilla. This isn’t technically vanilla, but it’s close (it’s also not french or virtual vanilla, for those wondering). A 3/3 for 3 is a little under curve, but a 5/5 for three is pretty good, exactly what you want from a werewolf. I’m not sure how I feel about the exact flip condition, I kind of feel like a simple “transform this when X dies” would work very well, but then you get some awkward state-based damage effects for the big guy. My biggest complaint with the trigger as it is is that you can play the huntsman post-combat and have it flip right away. The original werewolf clause specifically worked against that, so that it would actually feel like you were transforming a card that had been on the battlefield and not just going straight to the end. I’m also really impressed by the names, which feel like perfect mirrors, sort of like breakneck rider // neck breaker and daybreak ranger // nightfall predator. I don’t normally do judge picks, but I really feel like this is a card I want to see. I like it.

@hypexion - Hate Seed

Now that’s what I call a bad seed! Love the art, by the way, as does my fiance who walked into the room a minute ago. I like this as a card that sort of sits out here and “grows,” much like a seed. It’s pretty easy to grow this guy, especially in mono-black. Playing this one turn two, then playing any number of bobs, sign in bloods, or group pingers like Spawn of Mayhem can get this guy massive by the time you pop him on turn 5, not to mention actual damage! Most cards like this put some sort of restriction on the loss of life, such as paying life, only life you/your opponent loses, or once-per turn. I think it needed something like that, because even without building around this card you can often get it above 10 power by the time you hatch it, at instant speed no less! And with trample! Oofta! From a purely design perspective, I’m glad you put the counters on it, and at the right time, rather than just making an X/X, both because those are hard to remember and also because it helps this card double dip on counter synergies. However, I worry a lot about the memory issues of the first ability, since loss of life comes in many forms and could be confusing to many (i.e. is it more counters for more damage? Does multiple creatures in combat count? What if I gain life at the same time?). Also, and this is really a nitpick, but I think this either wants to tap to activate or be an enchantment. So in total, I think this card is better than it looks and more difficult to play correctly than it looks, which makes for a generally good card but one I’d be worried about printing.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes - Mirror-Breaker

Art direction: On the right, Mirror-Mad's "main" spirit (the one in the hallway) is exiting a mirror, who is being ruptured by this fact. On the left, with their back on the ground, someone is terrorized, a hand raised up as to defend themselves from the angry spirit.

This is a type of card we don’t see a lot of. At a minimum, it’s a big hastey one-hit-wonder. But you can hang onto it for a while if you’re smart! I like the literal interpretation of the name. It literally breaks mirrors. And if it doesn’t, then it gets angry and leaves. You can even use it as an artifact sac outlet if you somehow need that. I’m a little unsure about the deathtouch. It seems very unlikely that 5 power won’t kill, and with flying and 1 toughness it’s rare that they’ll double block and need you to spread damage. If anything, the deathtouch is more relevant for blocking. It’s actually kind of strange that this has a downside for attacking, despite having haste and flying and five power, but you can just have it sitting on the back line, read to trade for any creature they have. I don’t think people would do that, but it’s strange how much it kind of rewards you for not attacking. The strange mix of things happening on this card and the different directions this card is being pulled make it hard to put this in a deck.

@jund-berserker - Locus of Rage

I like what this card is trying to do, but it’s way, way too good. At a minimum, you can cast this, name a number of a card in your hand, then cast it. You get a three mana bolt (which is plenty playable, especially in limited at uncommon) and the inevitable ability to do it again. If you name 1 or zero, you can likely win the game with this the turn or two after you play it in almost every eternal format. Compare this card to Aria of Flame, Imminent Doom, or Eidolon of the Great Revel. All these cards are less consistent and harder to build around, or are symmetrical. This just lets you turn half the spells in your deck or more into free lightning bolts. Also, the fact that it triggers on your opponents’ spells just feels mean and oppressive. However, like I said, I like what ou were trying here. I just think that if this had said 1 damage, or maybe 2 damage but only going face, maybe this would be okay, but right now it’s just too good.

@loreholdlesbian - Slumbering Isle

I like the description of a volcano being a “slumbering isle.” That’s a really clever way to reinterpret that. However, I think the “isle” part was either taking too far or not far enough. Basically, I don’t know why this taps for blue beyond the name. It’s sacrifice effect is entirely red. I’d say add a scry or something, but we already have Surtland Frostpyre. This is especially a strange case because lands, as we all know, are colorless. So it’s not like it’s a break or anything, right? But Maro has said that activations costs follow the same rules as cards when it comes to colors. If this activation requires blue, it should do something blue. Alternatively, maybe drop the blue entirely from this card. Or, if you want to make it feel really flavorful, drop the blue from the cost but make it only tap for blue, to really sell the idea of a normal island turning into a scary volcano.

@maizenolo - Lunarch Marshal

That’s cute. Lunarch, moonfolk, that’s so clever. And it’s really cool that you gave it the moonfolk ability to bounce lands. However, that signature ability is… bad. It’s not particularly fun to keep bouncing lands. As with you card specifically, I have two issues with it. First, I don’t think blue gets +1/+0. The only cards that really do it usually have some other thing attached, usually unblockability, so just a flat buff seems weird. I don’t think it’s a color break, but it doesn’t feel blue. Second, this ability is so repeatable I’m worried players are going to overuse it and it will lead to frustrated players. If you just want to hit for three a turn, you’ll slowly be going down lands. Worse yet, imagine you attack your opponent late in the game and they’re at five life. You can bounce all your lands, and maybe they’ll die, but if you get hit with removal you’re going to lose the game, all because of this ability. Is it unfair to blame the designer for a player misplaying a card? Probably, but it’s our job as designers to encourage players to make the right decisions, because the better decisions they make, the better game they’ll have, and the more fun they’ll have. That's the end goal as a designer, isn’t it? I think a good way to get around this is to increase the mana cost, limit it to once per turn, or make it not as useful on repeat uses. For example, if it gave +1/+0 and unblockable, I think it would be less likely that a player would repeat it (though it would need to be costed differently). I think moonfolk are really hard to design. Still, I like the way you answered the prompt.

@misterstingyjack - River Guide

I like this card, but I also have a lot to say. First, the first ability is weird. In general, cards that get better based on your opponents lands have been phased out. There’s nothing your opponent can do about it for the most part, so it just feels mean. However, a single card ebing drawn isn’t that bad, and it’s especially interesting here because drawing a card is the one thing blue decks most want to avoid letting their opponents do. They want to one for one with counters. So this is more of just a strange hoser ability. The last ability has one obvious issue: you can exert something without tapping it. Currently, as written, after activating the ability, the island would still be untapped. But that’s a simple fix: just say “tap and exert an untapped island you control.” I kind of feel like you could have avoided the exert keyword, since it doesn’t really fit flavorfully and it’s not an evergreen keyword. I maybe would have just said that it doesn’t untap in the ability itself. But anyway, the card itself. I think it’s… fine? It’s sort of like a mix of key to the city and the first Thasa card. I think this is one of those cards where it either does nothing in the format or is a four of in a top tier deck. It really depends on the format. But I think independent of all that, I think it’s an okay designed card. And the flavor is spot on, very clever.

@naban-dean-of-irritation - Fractal Bloom

Oh no! Math! This card adds up quickly. It doesn’t quite double your counters each turn, but it gets pretty dang close. This is a really scary card in two ways. It’s very scary when it’s going off, but it’s also really scary to put in a deck. This card really needs to be uilt around to be useful. Yes, this means having cards that have counters, but it also needs a bit of a payoff, still. You can spread counters around, which is nice, but it’s slow enough that you aren’t going to be using it aggressively. At the same time, you don’t want cards that “spend” counters, like Fertilid, because the counters need to stick. So you’ll mostly want this for doubling the power of trampling hydras. I think this card is a little weaker than it looks. I wish this card had a better fail state. I wish it had some very minor but possible way to add counters. Perhaps an expensive activated ability, or that it puts a minimum of one on a card. As is, the card could very easily do nothing, especially considering it costs six mana, requires a board, and doesn’t do anything until your next turn, giving your opponents a lot of ways to interact with it. I think this could probably cost 5 mana, maybe even four if it has a more restrictive color cost. In general, “win more” cards like this are only really fun if they do win you the game quickly or if there’s something do with them when you aren’t using it to win.

@pocketvikings - Defiant Hero

Art Description: We're seeing our hero from the back, charging the Big Bad and facing whatever spells are being thrown at them.

I get it, it’s a hero! Like heroic! But the fact that it triggers on opponents makes it feel like it’s not just a hero, but a defiant one. One who fights through the trouble. I’m having trouble making up my mind on that last bit. Part of me thinks it’s useless. If it makes your creature indestructible, why would your opponent ever cast a removal spell on it? The indestructible will never be relevant because it will always be there. Which means it is relevant. But it also just sort of feels like hexproof from spells? But not if its exile or -X/-X effects. Though opponents are probably very often going to fall for “give your creature -2/-2 oh woops its too big now” which, while clearly on them is something that should probably be avoided. Basically, it’s an ability that is either never going to be used, feel like it isn’t relevant, or only be useful if your opponent misplays. That’s all kind of awkward. Lastly, and this is a big one, this card isn’t rare. This feels a lot worse than Tenth District Legionnaire, which is at uncommon

@rasputingold - Hunger Tide

So this one’s a bit wild. The insect token is a little closer to its origin card, Grist, than I would have liked for this contest, but I can look past that. The fact that you get one for every creature on the battlefield is crazy powerful, though at least they can’t block so you don’t immediately get chumpers forever. I kind of wish there were more of a limiter there, either non-insect, only opponents control, or only you control. As is, this barely needs anything to get nuts. The last ability is very hard to parse. More often than not, it will just be “each player sacrifices a creature,” since it takes 6 insects before they need to sacrifice anything more than 2 toughness, which I feel is about average. I also realize that it being symmetrical balances both the ability and the card as a whole, since you’ll eventually lose all your insects, but it all seems so weirdly roundabout. Lets say you have a creature and they have two when you play this. You add 3 creatures, pass, come back to you, you sacrifice two of your insects. Those insects have done nothing but make math hard. I’ll also say the fail state of this card is still amazing. It’s been a while, but The Abyss is still a four mana card, and this is very nearly strictly better than it. I will say, though, I really enjoy the execution of the story here. They come in slowly, but eat away at smaller creatures until they eat the big ones or die off. It’s a very, very good mechanical representation of a locust swarm. I just think its too complex for any normal magic set.

@real-aspen-hours - Monstrous Raider

NOTE: this is a render created by me. Originally submitted as text.

Vampire Barbarian is a terrifying thought, but a cool concept. I like the fact that this seems so willing to fight that it will stop trying to win the game in order to kill something. I worry that an on-board way to repeatedly deal with creatures is too strong, though. If your opponent ever has just one creature in play, it’s going to be really hard to deal with this guy. They NEED two creature in play, but the fact that this kills one every turn makes that hard. Also, I’ll say that the template is probably different than what you’ve got, looking at a card like Soltari Guerillas. Still, the two toughness at least makes it pretty easy to kill, so it’s a pretty high risk and a pretty high reward. So while it’s probably fine, I worry that this could lead to really frustrating board states.

@reaperfromtheabyss - Cradle of the Sun

This is cute. Love the feeling of a cradle here, and how different it feels from the original. I also have a soft spot for cards like this: Colfenor’s Urn, Cold Storage, Endless Sands. They all have such weird utility. I like that you kind of skip to the end with this card: rather than playing this, wrathing, then getting your creatures back, you play this, wait for a wrath, then wait for them to build their board, then wrath while un-wrathing. It’s such a weird concept and would probably make for some interesting games. Don’t get me wrong, I like it and I love the concept. I just have no idea how it would play. In general on-board wraths lead to long, drawn-out games because no one wants to dedicate to a board state. The fact that this lets you continue to do so is neat, but could be frustrating. At the same time, you’re leaving yourself to get blown out by artifact removal if you’re not careful. So yeah, as a whole, I like it, but would really want to playtest with it before I printed it.

@scavenger98 - Battle Seraph

So I’ll start off with the obvious, which you even admitted to, which is that this is very close to the card its based on, basandra. Same cost, same type, some power. But the rest is very different! The comparison to Omnath is pretty clear, and I’m glad that card exists to give us a clear idea of the templating. Other than the “is” needing to be “are” I think you got it right. As for the exact ability, I think it’s kind of messy. For omnath, the three abilities felt very linked, even if it was just because they all had the number four. Linking them helped you remember what they do: I get 4 of something, just gotta remember what. Here, the three abilities feel very disconnected. One gains life and is dependant on how much damage was dealt, the second makes a very specific token, and the last is a generically good effect. The triggering condition is also really weird. It doesn’t care which creatures, so you have to pay attention to exactly what happens on every turn to every creature. The fact that the first ability cares about how much damage is also really weird and hard to do. You have to count every damage done to everything every turn. But, if your opponent pings a creature in response, you don’t gain any of it, just the ping. The next two abilities I kind of like. A little token is nice, and I like how it makes it easier to trigger in the future by not having first strike. The last ability is almost definitely out-of-color, but considering how much work it takes (first strike, normal combat, and a spell/ability all dealing damage to creatures) maybe makes it worth it. I’m probably wrong, and it’s still probably not okay to let Boros draw cards, but you gotta try. So as a whole, I really want to like this card, and I really like the directions it's pushing, but I think it’s just really, really hard to keep track of what this card is doing while it's in play.

@shakeszx - Wielder of Mysteries

Love the flavor here, great use of an epithet. I’m wondering if this would finally be the card to make this ability work. For reference, Mind Reaver and Grimoire Thief have tried this sort of “use your own cards as counter fuel,” and neither have been all that playable outside of combos. This guy has no combo potential, but boy does he mill! Each end step and each opponent means milling four cards a turn, more in multiplayer (though this guy doesn’t do much else in EDH, the most popular multiplayer format). The fact that he doesn’t doesn’t sacrifice to counter really sets him apart. Putting the card in the graveyard so it isn’t a hard lock is something I appreciate, and I’ll say here that you probably could have said that as the cost to save some space (i.e. 1UU, put a face-down card exiled by ~ into its owner’s graveyard: counter target spell with the same name as that card). My guess as to what kind of deck would play this is some sort of flash deck that can leave up the mana or maybe a control deck that tries to leave this in play as a mill win-con. I don’t know how great it fits into either of those with it’s squishy wizard body, but at least it has a place. I wish there was a way to make this safer to play. Maybe give it ward or more toughness or even more power and flying so it has something to do rather than sit there and hope to be useful. I think this is better than other cards that do the same thing, but I don’t know if it's quite good enough to see play.

@snugz - The Hidden Realm

Very clever to put this on a land. Lands are almost never legendary, even if they feel like it or have “The” in the name. As for this card specifically, I don’t think you realize what this does. When you tap it for mana, it phases out. It will phase back in at the start of your untap step. That means that this is a five color land with no downside other than that it can’t be untapped and used again if you’re using it for colored mana. In fact, it’s a lot better, since your opponent will never be able to target it with removal, rare as that is. So yeah, this card is way too good. Five color land with upside.

@starch255 - Tower of Triumph

Gotta say, was not expecting this one, and not just because I did not know that path of mettle’s back half had an epithet. I love the towers. It was one of the first “whoops, we forgot to finish that cycle because we didn’t even think of it as a cycle” cycles. I’m a little unsure of the templating here. I feel like there needs to be an “each” or “all” in there somewhere to make it clear that you’re not just “activating abilities” but activating at least one per card. This is one of those funny cards where taking it as face value is hilarious. Requiring 48 mana and 6 overcosted cards in play to win the game is essentially impossible. However, having 6 bad cards in play, then playing Galazeth Prismari or Flame Fusillade and paying 8 mana may be more doable, if not “intended.” So this card has a casual, obvious, fun-but-not-viable way to sue it and another less difficult way to use it. I still wish it had some fail state. Maze’s End, for example, has a long and slow win condition tied into it, but it also fixes your mana slowly. Thassa’s Oracle can let you fix your draws. Win conditions tend to be more fun and more playable if there’s something you can do with them before winning, especially for a card like this where it will need to stand on the field a little while probably and therefore risk getting hit by removal.

@takemuse1 - Sengir Thrall

I cannot find any card that has the epithet “Sengir Thrall.” I think you may have either misread the prompt or submitted to the wrong contest. Either way, the card seems fine. I like what you’re trying to do here.

@teaxch - Celestial Wind

I remember the wind cycle, even had a few, for some reason. Here’s a card that hits a bunch of stuff. Get rid of up to three things, get back up to three things. It’s a little wordy. I think it’s possible to make this non-modal, but my suggestion would be “Choose one or both: -Exile target artifact, target enchantment, and/or target creature. - Return target artifact card, target enchantment card, and/or target creature card from your graveyard to the battlefield.” It still reads a little complicated, but at least you wouldn’t have the super weird blank space on the upper right of the card. The functionality of the card actually fits the rest of the cycle pretty well. It’s okay. It’s hard to make a nine mana card that feels worth it that doesn’t just win you the game. I think if you’re playing this you’re mostly going to be using it for the reanimation, since it will be pretty rare for your opponent to have all three permanent types, but there’s better ways to reanimate each of those types, and having a mix of types makes the deck harder to build. You really need at least four modes firing for this card to be even playable, and that’s not easy. Obviously multiplayer is where this card shines, especially EDH, but even there I don’t know if you want a nine mana card unless you can cast it for free, and again, there’s better cards to do that with. I think this card is trying to make up for its cost with its versatility, but there’s a difference between a card always having a use and a card always being useful. This will never be a dead card, but I don’t think it’ll ever be exactly what you need. Final note: compared to Blood on the Snow and Casualties of War, this could pretty easily be a rare.

@walker-of-the-yellow-path - Artful Provocateur

I read your submission comment before the text box and you got me excited for a card with provoke. Instead, it’s got goad, which is the opposite but also the better keyword, so yeah, that’s fine. I like the second ability, it’s got a lot of flavor to it and I could see it being a key card in some decks, like Marisi EDH. The last ability is fitting in a goad-style deck, and works well with the theme. The first ability I don’t think I’m a fan of. Spending a treasure to cast this guy feels weird, since you’d need the extra mana anyway to activate the ability. And if you’re not activating the ability, then you’re just attacking with a 2/1, which is not worth sacking a treasure most of the time. I’d say that it’s neat trinket text to encourage players to play this in a treasure deck, but the middle ability already does that. But I’ll stop focusing on that for now. I like the last two abilities and how well they play together and how nicely they fit in a deck. I like the creature types as well. I wonder a bit about the rarity. Repeatable goad only happened by attacking (which means it didn’t repeat often) or by having it permanently on a single creature, even at rare. The timing is also going to be strange, since you’ll be waiting until the declare attackers step 90% of the time, meaning your opponent’s must be constantly aware of you goading one of their creatures as soon as they move to combat. That’s going to make combat a nightmare. Limiting to sorcery speed would be great. If this is meant to be a conspiracy style set, I think this card is doing way too much at uncommon. If this is meant to be in a commander precon, I kind of understand it as attempting to combine multiple themes. In fact, this seems like it’s trying to combine the two commanders of the RB commander deck they just released: Prosper having a treasure theme and the Eye Tyrant having a goad theme. Still, that first ability seems really tacked on and will lead players to misplay. I like what the card is trying to do, but it needed a bit more restraint.

@whuh-oh - Eternal Pilgrim

Love the art here. This is another take on a pilgrim, our second, and a completely different interpretation. This guy mills you and gains you life, at a minimum one (unless he’s killed in response), then lets you reanimate something, even if it’s just a land. So, first things first, this definitely need to be a rare. It’s such a complex ability, and does a lot of things that shouldn’t happen regularly in limited. The way it snowballs, turning tapped creature into more creatures into bigger creature, or at a bare minimum ramping. I also reeeally wish this were green. I feel likeit’s pretty likely you’ll be reanimating lands most of the time, unless you’re built around these guys. Self mill and life gain are also both green. This is not to say this is out of color, I just think it fits better. I also kind of wish it restricted your reanimation to just cards milled. That would encourage you to really get X up there, instead of just laying back, activating two of these guys in response to each other and getting back the same two two-drops you just blocked with. I want there to be a little more going on here than just slow, repetitive value.

@wolkemesser - The Untouchable

I mean, I don’t want to touch him. A very direct interpretation of the epithet. He can’t be targeted, and if you touch him you die. I like the minion typeline, it’s a rare one, but it really fits the deathtouchiness of this guy. However, that’s about all I like. Deathtouch and trample don’t exist on the same card for a reason. It’s an incredibly niche and awkward interaction that confuses new players. Putting this at uncommon means it’s likely new players are going to have to interact with that. Plus, it having shroud means it will have to be blocked in order to kill it, meaning it will almost certainly come up. I do appreciate that the shroud makes it less likely you’d need to do it with more than two creatures. But trample also doesn’t fit the feel of the card. It doesn’t really make it less touchable. It also isn’t needed for power levels, it’s already strong without it. I think this card is a perfect encapsulation of the epithet, but I wish it wasn’t as unfun to have in play.

-Mod Mr. ShinyObject

#mtg #inventor's fair #commentary #magic the gathering #custom magic card #epithet

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