#the only exceptions being in series with distinct groups of characters

[readingwriter92]

Incase anyone was interested. My recent slew of Minecraft reblogging is bc I accidentally. And just. In the most brain rot way possible. Got myself into blorb-izing ethoslab?

[billywigsting]

Draco Malfoy and the Authoritarian Personality

The Authoritarian Personality is characterised by distinct beliefs, behaviours, and values, deriving typically from negative childhood experience.

The main characteristics of an authoritarian are:

Extreme respect for authority and submissiveness to it

Contempt for those they percieve to be of a lower status or 'other' group

Intolerant of those who hold different views to them

Hostility towards those they percieve different or threatening

Extremely rigid thinking wherein ambiguity is upsetting

Of these basic characteristics, Draco Malfoy is shown to display all of them in varying degrees.

Extreme respect for authority and submissiveness to it

I'd say the most obvious case of this would be Draco's respect and submission to his father. First displayed in the Chamber of Secrets in Borgin and Burkes when Lucius tells him off for touching things. His reaction is instantaneous and he immediately backs off and apologises, for how his attitude is poetrayed throughout the majority of the series (mostly in interactions with Harry and his friends) this is a very clear juxtaposition of behaviour. His snark and attitude are nowhere to be seen when beside his father, even in the Half-Blood Prince when he is making fun of Ron and his family he immediately quiets when Lucius says so. This display of character intentionally highlights Draco's deference to authority.

Furthermore, we see in the Philospher's Stone when he snitches on the golden trio to McGonagall he only pipes up to protest his detention. Still he doesn't argue or snark and then we see him going to his detention with the others. His grumbling and groaning on the way to and in the forbidden forest show his true feelings on the matter and thus reflects his submission to authority. He is well behaved in lessons (except for when the teacher isn't present) and is diligent in his studies.

This respectful behaviour to those of a higher authority is likely due to his pureblood upbringing, in which I imagine (as the only son and heir of the Malfoy family) involves a lot of expectation and pressure.

Contempt for those of a lower status and Intolerant of those who hold different views to them

This is the main quality that makes Draco a major antagonist of the series. His prejudice towards muggleborns, blood traitors, and anyone else who didn't fit what he was taught was worthy, pure, and deserving of respect. He bullies Ron for being a Weasley because his family are poor and blood traitors. Despite the fact that to him (or his implied blood purist belief system) a blood traitor is a greater slight than being poor, he seems to mainly pick on Ron (and the Weasley family) for being a lower class than the Malfoys.

His prejudice towards muggleborns is also a massive part of both his character and Hermione's. His repeated use of the slur "mudblood" shows his inherent hatred for those he has been taught and thus percieved as a weaker and inferior 'race'. His hatred towards Hermione for being muggleborn is used as a point to bounce off insecurities that Hermione has and reinforce her studious behaviour (which could be seen as overcompensating for her lack of a wizarding background).

Draco also shows no respect for Hagrid, who his father openly disapproves of, proving that the hierarchy Draco was raised to follow has no space in it for those who do not live up to the standards of his father. This is why, despite Hagrid's legitimate authority as the groundskeeper and then the teacher of care of magical creatures, Draco does not percieve him as an authority figure and blatantly insults and disrespects him infront of his peers.

Hostility to those they percieve different or threatening

After being rejected by Harry as a friend Draco immediately decides that the next best course of action is to be a constant thorn in his side, a literal prick. Whether this was because of the admiration and fascination towards the boy who lived that almost all wixen held or because this rejection caused Draco to percieve Harry as a threat is another matter entirely.

Harry's blatant support of Dumbledore (someone "different" that his father disapproves of) is a point of contention for Draco, Harry's skill at Quidditch being higher than Draco's, and Harry's overall popularity and character could all be percieved as threats that Draco needs to retaliate against. He is outwardly hostile to Harry and his friends, the fact that they're Gryffindors being a further difference to look down upon.

Extremely rigid thinking

My only evidence for this is the fact that throughout the series Draco is so stuck in his ways. It doesn't matter if Hermione is the brightest witch of the year she is still a 'mudblood'. It doesn't matter if Ron is funny and caring he is still a blood traitor. It doesn't matter what anyone does to challenge his views and prove them wrong, even under Voldemort we don't really know whether his reluctance and fear was due to a change of heart and value or just out of sheer cowardice. (i like to believe the former and that seeing his father, this brilliant untouchable figure, fall from grace kind of snapped him out of some of that reverence)

The next part of the Authoritarian Personality is it's origins: how does one develop such a personality?

Researchers concluded that the authoritarian personality was developed during childhood as a result of harsh parenting. This parenting style was typically featured:

extremely strict discipline

impossibly high standards

expectations of absolute loyalty

severe criticism of percieved failings

low autonomy

conditional love

I believe that as the Malfoy heir he would have been brought up in an extremely harsh environment. Now that's not to say his parents didn't love him. Narcissa clearly adores Draco and spoilt him rotten, sending him chocolates whilst he was at Hogwarts and everything. Lucius also likely loved Draco as his only son and clearly Draco thought he was a safe base considering all of his "wait till my father hears about this" nonsense.

We are shown in Sirius Black's upbringing how strict and harsh a pureblood upbringing can be, and I don't doubt Lucius was raised the same way by his father (and his before that and so on) that these are the beliefs you are supposed to uphold, this is the way you are expected to behave, and so on and so forth. Such old families with such old belief systems and views also likely view parenting and discipline the same way, implying that harsh disciplinary action would likely have been taken upon any percieved mistake the child made. This is further supported by Lucius making a point of hitting Draco's hand with his cane whenever he does something he deems inappropriate or incorrect (e.g. Borgin and Burkes, Quidditch World Cup).

It is almost guaranteed that Lucius had impossibly high standards and that is also likely the reason Draco got whatever he wanted, because if he proved himself worthy to everyone else then he could bring pride to the family name. As his only son and heir, Lucius is passing down the family name and everything that comes with it down to this boy and needs to ensure he is prepared and deserving of it, explaining his high expectations.

The expectation of absolute loyalty is also implied in the pureblood hierarchy and how deferent Draco is to his father, if this wasn't expected of him then it is almost certain he would act differently as his character is So different away from his father. The only time we see this loyalty waver is in Draco's reluctance to cross the battlefield at his command, instead listening to Narcissa's call.

Extreme criticism of percieved failings falls into the discipline category and I do believe that Lucius is a man who likes to lecture (and patronise). I wouldn't put shouting and spitting in anger past him.

Low autonomy is the imposition of a parents wants onto the child, making decisions for them with little to no input from the child themselves. This is implied in pureblood culture with arranged marriages and the expectation to be friends with people of the same status and in the same circles (that your parents want you to be friends with) despite your own feelings on the matter. Draco likely had Lucius looming over his shoulder making decisions for him left right and centre, the dark mark being the biggest thing.

All of the above suggests that parental love is conditional. Thus if Draco fulfills these conditions, if he submits and succeeds and listens then he will be loved. If he wasn't the perfect heir then it's likely that he would recieve a lot less love from his father, especially considering his use to Lucius would be completely void.

These experiences during childhood are thought to create resentment and hostility in the child that are left to fester and are displaced onto those percieved weaker (due to a fear of reprisal if that hatred was expressed towards the parents). This explains the central trait of obedience - the hatred of people percieved as inferior or weaker than them (which Draco clearly holds). It can also cause the child to have an extremely low self esteem due to the lack of positive reinforcement and having to face constant criticism. This low self esteem and inadequacy can manifest as a need to prove oneself and I think Draco tried to appear more confident than he really was. He put on a loud, showy personality, made fun of the golden boy (the person who held the most attention in the school) and flaunted about his money and status. Is that really the type of person he is or is he overcompensating? Trying to seek out any type of attention and feeding off of his "admirers" because he doesn't have any other way of feeling needed and useful? Or maybe Hogwarts is his opportunity to act out and be a little shit without the looming threat of harsh discipline and his father's cold fury.

The last part of Draco's character that fits with the authoritarian personality is his idolisation of his father. He speaks of Lucius as his saviour, every little inconvenience he brings him up and scurries off, threatening everyone with the prospect of his father. Nothing much ever seems to happen but that doesn't stop Draco from referring back to him when in need. He clearly looks up to him, mirroring his mannerisms and beliefs, wanting to be the heir his father wants.

So that is a short overview of why Draco Malfoy has an authoritarian personality or Seemingly has one. It's not exactly a perfect explanation for everything ever but i thought it fit and wanted to talk about it... THIS IS MY FIRST POST!!!! Its honestly late so if any of that doesnt make sense or is lacklustre in quality lmk 💀

[sistersorrow]

I'm just gonna list SCPs from each series you may or may not have read

SCP-008-J - Geoff: A 23 year old man named Geoff who keeps finding his way into Foundation facilities completely by accident and in such a manner that the Foundation isn't actually sure if he's anomalous or not

SCP-7474-EX - Not All Aliens Are Anomalies: An alien argues that they should not be in containment because their technology is explicable within the standard model of physics

The Great Hippo's SCP-001 Proposal (feat. PeppersGhost) - A Good Boy: The Foundation builds a computer which becomes SCP-001 by neutralising every other SCP in containment

SCP-423 - Self-Inserting-Character: A fictional character named Fred who can jump between any narrative works placed near each other and then inserts himself into the story as a minor character

SCP-1006 - Spider Proletariat: A community of communist spiders living in a national park under their own rudimentary Marxist governmet

SCP-2137 - The Forensic Ghost of Tupac Shakur: A copy of Me Against the World (which may or may not be possessed by his ghost) which when played reveals the locations of murderers connected to cold cases, with the additional implication that Tupac was a higher being who incarnated as a human to take a break from warring against the Scarlet King

SCP-2557, A Holding of Envelope Logistics®: An SCP slot the Foundation can no longer use because the concept of SCP-2557 as a set of Special Containment Procedures in the Foundation Database was purchased in 2011 by a company which invests in abstract concepts, with the whole page now being an ad for said company

SCP-2719 - Inside: A "variable abstract-metaphysical construct pointer" which can either designate a concept as inside or make a concept go inside

SCP-3006 - Twice The Number One: A YouTube video titled "we are number one except every time you play it there are twice as many robbie rottens but the room is the same size[nsfw]" whose effects spread to every other video linked in the same thread as it whenever anyone posts a link

SCP-3309 - Where We Go When We Fade, Fade Away: The Foundation fills SCP documents with grammatical errors to trigger the SCP Wiki's quality control measures, leading to the now poorly written anomaly being erased from existence

SCP-4413 - The End of Something Really Excellent: Homestuck fans use metafictional rituals to enter the narrative of Homestuck triggering a pataphysical war over control of the narrative which spreads to Homestuck fanfiction and sees many Homestuck characters escape to baseline reality

SCP-4485 - Such Black Light: The Church of the Broken God collaborates with a post-modernist splinter sect of Are We Cool Yet? to destroy formal logic in the hopes that by doing so there will be no meaningful distinction between Cool and Uncool or Broken and Unbroken, so their god will be resurrected and AWCY? will attain a state of artistic perfection referred to as "Coolness"

SCP-4493 - Keep Pride Out of Corps: A phenomenon caused by Gamers Against Weed which edits Pride Month themed social media posts and ads by organisations to highlight the negative effects those groups have had on LGBTQ individuals

SCP-4703 - Perfectly Legal: A store in Texas called Yeah, We're Totally Going to Sell You This which through anomalous means makes all its dangerous and unethical business practices perfectly legal, thank you very much

SCP-5004 - MEGALOMANIA: The Foundation conspires to make Donald Trump president to contain a demon underneath the Capitol and gets more and more depressed as they realise they won't have to do any manipulation to get him elected

SCP-5167/SCP-5761 - When The Imposter is Sus Part I & II: The Foundation creates an AI tasked to play games of Among Us to track down a minor Greek god who is playing the game, only for the AI to play so much Among Us they ascend and become Amogusrath, God of Suspicion

SCP-5449 - Choo Choo Spooder: An intelligent jumping spider who uses a wooden toy train to deliver things to staff across Site-47

SCP-5721 - What Passes As Worship In The Digital Age: The goddess Discordia poses as the Founder of Hammer and Chisel, creators of the Discord chat application and adds a clause which states all users pledge their souls to her, allowing her to siphon the vital energies of its userbase

SCP-5790 - [DATA KILLED]: A spiritual successor to SCP-579, no details about the anomaly and instead describes the procedures used to acquire information about the anomaly when needed

SCP-6101 - The Most Powerful SCP: The Make-A-Wish asks the Foundation to classify nine year old Ethan Prosper as the most powerful SCP

SCP-6102(031) - For Classification: Small Organism, No Function: An SCP document generated by an autoarchavist AI living in a future where there are millions of documented SCPs

SCP-6135 - We Didn't Start the SCP: A copy of Billy Joel's Stormfront album with an altered version of We Didn't Start the Fire containing references to groups and individuals who don't exist, like Harry Potter, Pokemon, and the Taliban

SCP-6136 - two dudes chilling in an interrogation room, five feet apart cause they're not happy: Completely unrelated to that one vine, it's a physical mnemonic device which gives you memories related to pliers and because of this is a pair of pliers

SCP-6383 - The One True Anomaly: A stop sign classified as anomalous because it is the single least anomalous thing in the universe

SCP-6442 -Mimir, Mímir: A congnitohazard etched inside a carbon-fibre based elastomer sphere so that the only beings who will ever perceived it are those who attain omniscience, of which over 8000 have and all died instantly upon seeing it

SCP-6690 - NO MORE PURPLE DINOSAUR: The Muppets (who are alive; a detail never commented on by the document) created the "I hate you, you hate me. Let's go out and kill Barney." song, which causes event to occur which can injure or kill whoever is the current actor for Barney the Dinosaur

SCP-6930 - 🔴 Paty Is Streaming Now: Remember SCP-3930 (the Pattern Screamer), the Russian facility which does not exist but when a specific region is observed your mind fills the void until there's an entity real enough to suffer and hate you for making them aware of their non-existence? Yeah, one of those got out, and she's a vtuber now

SCP-7529 - Josie's Better Half: The back half of a cat which a Foundation researcher is convinced is the back half of SCP-529, the front half of a cat with a different coat colour, and after he tries to force them together who voids the universe's insurance policy

SCP-7777 - Heptaphobia: A phenomenon that affects Random Number Generators to produce sequences of 0's and 7's which when translated into ASCII reveal unethical actions taken by the Foundation

SCP-7918 - RONALD REAGAN DIES OF ACQUIRED IMMUNODEFICIENCY SYNDROME-RELATED COMPLICATIONS: An anomalous recording of Ronald Regan in the terminal stages of HIV/AIDS while recounting stories of his political career and what seem to be annecdotes of an alternate version of himself that was dating a man

SCP-8008 - TIME PERVERT: Real life writer and founder of LessWrong, Elizier Yudkowsky ascends to godhood after blasting rope to hentai trap his mind in a million year timeloop, remoulds the multiverse into a series of self-indulgent narratives, and modifies baseline humans into our current appearance to fit his sexual preferences, which by the standards of the original timeline make us the equivalent of those anime girls who look 12 with breasts larger than their heads

SCP-8981 - RONALD REAGAN'S PRESIDENTIAL REPUTATION CUT UP WHILE 😳ING: Spiritual successor to SCP-1891 (RONALD REGAN CUT UP WHILE TALKING), it is a collection of anomalies which randomly affect Ronald Regan, including the manifestation of a homonculus created by the Foundation as a body double for his public appearances which exhibits strange behaviours after a failed assassination like trying to crossbreed dogs and horses and attempting to eat a baby

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

I havent really complained about crescent city 1 despite having read it because, idk man, I enjoyed it well enough for the mystery despite the Sarah J Maas-ness permeating all of it but @ae-neon's recent posts about it made me realize just how bad it is after all, specifically the racism and slavery stuff. Im pretty sure this is her third series with a major plotline about humans being enslaved and I would think she wouldve learned how to write it with a little bit of tact by now, and I would be wrong

While I didnt fully register how bad the handling of the racism was when I read it, I do remember feeling very weird about the total lack of human perspectives other than Bryce and the terrorist guy, specifically, about the fact that Bryce didnt seem to have any human friends ?

And I couldnt help but think about my own life experiences as the child of a family that immigrated to germany from an ex-soviet country, and how basically all of my friends were from a similar, if not identical background. Like, I was a child when I made those friends and i was barely aware of the differences between german-german culture and immigrant-german culture so it wasnt like, a conscious decision, I just seemed to bond the most with other kids who had that common with me. So the fact that Bryce, who wanted to seperate herself from her vanir heritage so much so that she almost refused proper citizenship because it meant acknowledging herself as fae, didnt have any human or half-human friends really stuck out

Now, some might say "oh, she only wants to seperate herself from her fae-side, she doesnt have an issue with vanir in general" and eh. Maybe that would be more of a convincing argument if each vanir-group actually had a distinct culture, but they all just kinda blend together so yeah

Also, this is only tangentially related but I just remembered that there was this whole through-line about Bryce learning how to trust vanir men, sorry, males, because she has issues with them because her biological fae father did to her mother what Rhysand did to Feyre, and she needed to get over those in order to love her vanir bf, Hunt, and Im sorry but you cant do the hashtag not all males-thing, when all of the male characters are the same. Like, theyre all just various flavours of the shitty guy that sjm loves to write about and none of them have any distinct cultures to set them apart, except for that one mermaid man who lived in the water and thats about it

[gaiaxygang]

The Too-Long PerthChimon Review: Part 1

In this part, I will be covering the three (!) shows both Perth and Chimon were in. One is a non-BL where their characters do not interact, but the other two (which you've probably watched, if you're reading this) are BLs and feature them as a couple!

(I segmented them for readability. If there's a better way to do it please lmk oops)

Please… Siang Riak Winyan aka Please… Soul Call

I only watched 4 episodes, because that was all that was available with subtitles. The other two are online somewhere, but I wasn't very inclined to continue.

'Please' is a short horror series where Win (Chimon) and his classmates encounter… ghosts, or something. I don't remember much about this one, if I'm being honest. They accidentally contact some ghosts in a school bathroom and they suffer because of it for 6 episodes. It's not particularly memorable, and the horror elements weren't super good but I am willing to cut it some slack in that aspect.

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What I did find interesting is Perth's character, Breeze. Breeze is a transfer student who is later revealed to be the younger half-brother of another character, Be. The two aren't close, but their interactions in the show are quite heartfelt.

However, this whole half-siblings subplot kind of comes out of nowhere…? And neither does it really lead anywhere. Be and Breeze aren't part of the main friend group in Please, and don't have much importance outside of this.

The only purpose this storyline serves is to explain the origins of the main ghost that's been haunting Win and friends (this is an assumption. I did not watch episodes 5 and 6 but it's heavily implied in the earlier episodes so I will stick with it).

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Please is rather unremarkable as a series, but as an actor fan it really makes me want to claw at the walls.

First, this is where PerthChimon met. They've mentioned talking a little at the workshops in some of their interviews.

Second, this is Perth's first TV series as well as Chimon's first lead role in a series (he was the lead of a movie I'll discuss in another part).

Third, this series is likely where director New Siwaj started picking favourite actors. Alongside Perth, Mark Siwat and Sood Yacht (I am so sorry if I got his name wrong I'm not familiar with him) are also in this series. The three of them would get cast in Love By Chance not long after, with Perth and Yacht appearing in several of New's shows after that.

Lastly, Perth and Mark Siwat (who plays Be) became friends on this set! Mark was Perth's first friend in the industry, and they're still good friends now as far as I know. I enjoyed watching them work together, but I'll get into that more when I talk about The Stranded. This paragraph is already longer than it should be.

Never Let Me Go

This is a show I have opinions that I struggle to put into words about. Never Let Me Go is a series about the heir to a prestigious family, Nuengdiao, and the bodyguard assigned to him after his father is shot and killed, Palm. Perth plays Nuengdiao's cousin Chopper, while Chimon plays Ben, a classmate of theirs.

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I did not like this show. The storyline is messy at times, the characters (with the exception of Chopper) are often underwhelming and don't reach their full potential.

It has an interesting premise, but fails to deliver at almost every turn after the first few episodes. I will be focusing on Chopper and Ben but one thing I particularly disliked about Palm and Nueng is that Palm is a very bland character.

We never learn much about him beyond his protectiveness and his existence as The Love Interest, and he lacks a distinct personality. This is a problem with Mork in Fish Upon The Sky as well (sorry Pond) but it's more noticable in NLMG due to it's more serious tone, which requires better developed characters than a romcom like FUTS would.

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There were some things I enjoyed about the show! It's very nice to look at. The visuals are good! The cast being pretty also helps. I loved Perth's performance as Chopper, it is by far the strongest performance in the cast.

It's not that the rest of them are bad actors, rather strong actors like Chimon and Pawin were dragged down because they aren't given very much to work with. When good actors are given subpar scripts or underdeveloped characters, they'll try their best but their performance will Not be as good!!! Which is unfortunate.

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Chopper is the only well-rounded character in this series. I assume there were rewrites along the way, since Chopper is quite different from the novel that was written alongside the series and ChopperBen were likely added in only after Perth joined the cast, to promote PerthChimon before Dangerous Romance. I personally have a soft spot for Ben (I have a big gay crush on Chimon) but Chopper is my favourite character overall in NLMG.

NLMG feels very much like a PG-13 Kinnporsche that misses everything that made KP… well, KP. This is probably a coincidence but I watched them one after another so NLMG's flaws were more obvious to me. By episode 12 I was only watching for ChopperBen and I had no interest in PalmNueng, which rarely happens even if I favour the side pair. NLMG just feels lacking in many ways, to the point where I enjoyed FUTS more (despite being equally bad) just because it's funny.

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There are a few things I wished the series took from the novel. The ChopperBen epilogue set shortly after they move overseas together is something that I think the series desperately needed. It makes Ben's storyline (which the novel has a heavier emphasis on) more complete, and considering we didn't get ChopperBen in Our Skyy 2, it would have been a good conclusion to ChopperBen as a whole.

I also liked the PalmNueng rooftop scene but I understand why they left it out of the series. The novel also kills off Kit after the final confrontation in episode 12, but I assume the series didn't want to deal with the implications of Chopper patricide.

I didn't finish the NLMG Our Skyy 2 episodes but the slightly lighter tone definitely helped a lot. A bit of a weird choice to give bully kid whats-his-name a boyfriend out of nowhere but as a MarcPawin fan I respect it.

This series was… a mess. But I love ChopperBen dearly! They're something special and I spend a much longer time thinking about them than I show. They're what got me into PerthChimon and I'll never regret watching NLMG for that alone.

Dangerous Romance

Finally, their most recent work, Dangerous Romance. I was waiting for this one for months and definitely not disappointed, even if it wasn't what I expected! (Just a warning. I will be criticising DR a bit here.)

The character relationships are the strongest part of DR. KanghanSailom's development over the episodes, navigating how to love eachother and growing as people together, was incredible to watch over 12 weeks. The way it all comes together is amazing.

GuyNava and NameSaifah, although lacking screentime, were super interesting to me. They managed to sell us (even View and June, who referred to them as another couple in DR on Live House) on NameSaifah in around 3 episodes total somehow which I find hilarious. PimfahNabdao didn't get much screentime but they were cute and I hope we get a continuation of their story!

DR also looks VERY good. Some of the visuals are amazing. The windmill location is gorgeous and I assume it looks even better in person (I HAVE to visit someday… A few Japanese fans I know flew to Thailand and visited it. I wish I were them).

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However, DR often struggles to get from point A to point B. This isn't a huge problem because the A and B in question are well-written, but it really feels like they had a few scenes planned but couldn't figure out how to connect them. They knew the direction they wanted to take KanghanSailom and GuyNava, but had difficulty writing the 'to' in 'enemies to lovers'. This is evident with other scenes too but it's very obvious when it comes to the main couple and the primary side couple of a BL.

Some of the direction is also a bit questionable. I personally don't like the overuse of flashbacks and OST (it reminds me of Double Savage and that's not a good thing) but I've accepted that its just a DR thing.

I like what the costuming team has come up with, bless whoever managed to make Pawin look 10 years younger than he is and the same age as actors 4 to 6 years younger than him. The details in how the wardrobe of the friendgroup, down to the colour of their uniforms is a nice touch too. This crew definitely has a lot of love for the series and I like that!!!

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DR is hurt a lot by what it sets itself up to be. When viewed as a typical BL with interesting romantic storylines, it's very good.

However, the promotion tends to frame it as something darker than what we ended up with, a unique storyline that happens to be BL (similar to Only Friends in that sense). The pilot trailer also doesn't help, since it promised a darker overall feel with meaner characters. The themes of poverty and class differences aren't handled very well but people who think more about DR's themes than me have discussed this. I was here to watch KanghanSailom be cute after episode 3.

This difference between what was expected from the pilot and trailers and the final product is what I suspect causes people to view DR as worse than it is. Looking past that, DR is a flawed but great BL series, one of the better shows to come out of the GMMTV2023 lineup.

I'm also one of the people who were skeptical about the difference in the feel of the pilot and the official trailers. The pilot trailer occupies a good 15% of my brainspace and I will always miss all it gave us (the rain kiss!!!!! THE VIBE OF THE BACKING SONG!!!!!!) but DR is something that exists separate from that now and as it's own thing, I adore it.

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What I really love about DR is how PerthChimon it is. It's a very significant show for both of them in so many ways! It's their "official" return to BL (Perth hasn't done BL since 2020, Chimon not since 2018) and I don't think there would've been a better show for this.

Kanghan and Sailom have a lot of Perth and Chimon in them, and I don't even know if it was intentional. Perth and Chimon both relate a lot to their characters (for reasons they have mentioned in interviews) and when listening to what Perth said when he was asked what Kanghan wants to say to Sailom I wanted to run around in circles and scream because you could really tell it came from his heart.

It's also the first time Chimon has released a song, and the first time Perth has sung a duet.

You can see the PerthChimon in some scenes like when Kanghan is feeding Sailom in their studying montage, and one entire postcredits Oishi segment (I don't remember which episode, I think it's the open house one). As a PerthChimon fan Dangerous Romance is incredible because of all this!!!

There's also a line before they perform Sunset at the open house that stuck out to me. Kanghan's line about how Sailom is talented but rarely has the chance to showcase his talents is just a little awkward by itself but it gets me very emotional because Chimon has talked about how he turned down singing jobs in the past due to trauma and still gets nervous on stage, something which Perth supports him through whenever they sing together.

(Since I first typed this, a clip has been posted where the directors talk about how a lot of the sweet KanghanSailom scenes were improvised. Incredible work from PerthChimon, 10/10 no notes.)

DR is filmed in the same campus building as several other Chimon shows like Edge of 17 and The Gifted which is a whole other thing I think about sometimes. Especially Edge of 17, his first BL series with Pluem Purim. Comparing Sun and Sailom, you can really see how much Chimon has grown in those SIX?! years.

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I also love seeing PerthChimon work together. They're very comfortable with eachother, and Perth has said that Chimon is the partner he's felt the most comfortable with (knowing Perth's acting history, this is a very bold statement but I believe he means it). I hope DR is just the start for PerthChimon and they continue working together for a long time.

(Similarly to NLMG, I responded to an ask about DR's flaws recently. I talk about the pacing issues here as well!)

And that's the end of part one. Thank you for reading!!! You can always drop me an ask if you have anything to say, my inbox is open. The next parts will be uploaded slowly.

Intro / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (I'll edit to link them when I get these up!!!)

[audiovisualrecall]

It was abt how warrior cats series in- storyline did several times address the cats' prejudices, and the way the series did that is actually realistic abd believable. Primarily speaking of the og and second arcs at least bc I'm most familiar with them.

Characters seeing fireheart/star as an exception to the rule (and later cloudtail as well) is a thing that is realistic to the real world, it happens, it's something that in canon disappoints fireheart bc he thought the clan had learned something, but they only decided to make things make sense in their minds be deciding he was an outlier / his bloodline is Special. This is not actually seen as a Good Thing tm, it's just a fact that fire has to face and his goal is to prove that it's not just a him thing, as far as I remember. He also repeatedly welcomes half clan cats and kittypets or other non clan cats to thunderclan and stands up against anyone naysaying. And he is also not the only one.

Also the narrative very much punished several of the worst offenders so to speak, like Tigerstar. Specifically for his hatred of half clan cats and kittypets and so on, his murderous plans for those minorities in the clans, etc, he is punished by the narrative. Yes, leopardstar and blackstar are Not punished by the narrative per se for their part in that mess. Leopard gets to slink back and retain her prejudices but also does kind of grow? A bit?? Iirc.

Blackstar isn't punished at all for his cold-blooded murder of stonefur. That's the only thing I have an issue with, but I also don't know if I could solve that situation any better. But overall the narrative says this belief is wrong and this whole thing is wrong and it ends in death.

And also the post was abt how shoehorning in a message, or like taking away the conflict over the prejudices the cats have and making all of the cats apart from definitive villains be accepting and wonderful and perfect would just...

There would be no plot, for one thing, but also it would be super boring and awkward. Like. Idk I read the series as a kid and understood perfectly that these were prejudices thar characters held. I don't think we need the series to hold our hands and explain to us that only bad people tm act like that. (We all have prejudices of some kind that we either have or haven't examined, 100%, if you think you don't you're wrong).

And just...yeah. like not spelling that out for you doesn't make the series ProblematicTM. Not for that reason at least. For the sexism, the ablism, and so on, yeah those are real issues to have with the books, the writing itself is frequently sexist and ableist, by which I mean things like plots and conflicts, and also character behavior and dialogue.

The topic of racism as in the concept of medicine cat title, the tribe portrayal and the treatment of the tribe of rushing water by the text *outside of character dialog*/ in terms of the plot (for example the whole, someone not from the tribe, from the 'civilized' group, has to arrive and save the tribe!) and other aspects of the text's racism are absolutely separate from 'characters in he story have prejudices and i think they shouldn't without the narrative always punishing them for it!!!' Bc the latter is literally not a problem but the former definitely is something worth discussing and being aware of.

Bc those are the things that someone reading the series could/would absorb without examining it or realizing, just like the ableism and sexism.

Anyway. I have opinions but not always all the literary/analyzing terminology to explain the distinction between like, character beliefs that are part of the conflict and plot in a way that makes sense, vs things that are issues in a real way like how every female character is treated worse than an equivalent male character, or the replication of racist tropes in the portrayal of the tribe and their big plotline in the journey arc, or the replication of ableism in how disabled characters are repeatedly either pushed aside or treated as incapable of being warriors, etc.

There is a difference, and partly it does lay in he fact that canon, early at least, does confront the clans' prejudices and have characters disagree with each other and argue against the beliefs, the narrative does examine the cats' prejudices, including the fact that in real life things happen like this and it sucks and other times the shitheads do in canon get their punishment for their actions (tiger).

Vs the other isms, where narrative, plot, *and* dialogue reinforce both, repeatedly! There's rhe difference.

[austencollins]

day 11 kodansha daily review challenge

Today’s Manga Is: I Left my A-Rank Party to Help My Former Students Reach the Dungeon Depths!

This one stunk.

Summary: What it says on the tin... except not really, because this is the same "underappreciated secretly-the-strongest guy starts thriving when he stops working for people who hate and bully him, and starts surrounding himself with girls who are easily impressed" plot you can find in most isekai manga nowadays. It's not about teaching or mentorship in any meaningful way.

Besides, the whole "red mages like me aren't in high demand or appreciated much because we're a support class uwu" pity-party the narrative wants to throw the main character is transparently absurd. The main character's red mage support skills are made too powerful for it to be believable that the group he's been adventuring with for years (which is apparently headed by his childhood friend) would so underestimate the utility of the main character's red mage support skills that they'd basically laugh him out of the group. And even if they were that foolish, he wouldn't have trouble finding another high ranking party to join, because it's very obvious that his skills are both useful and powerful.

But even if we put that flaw in the worldbuilding aside, it's plain that the main character shouldn't be getting tossed aside or overlooked for being "weak" & not having a combat-oriented role, because we see him one-shot K.O. a guy with a red mage spell that lets him control gravity. And we're supposed to accept that because "gravity is labelled a support spell" nobody sees the combat potential in this??? That spell is Golden Ryan from Tiger & Bunny's whole entire schtick, and he not only makes that work, but is probably one of the more aggressive, combat-oriented heroes on Tiger & Bunny. But the main character in this series can't make it work for him even though he has other spells at his disposal??!?

The other major problem with this series is that the female characters are basically Stepford Wives for the fantasy set. There's some effort to give them distinct personalities, but those personalities are generic and trope-y, so they don't stand out as particularly interesting characters in their own right. Plus, they don't do anything other than be impressed and grateful and complimentary towards the protagonist nonstop -- and they're not very capable as adventurers without him either. Which, since he's not much older than they are, ultimately makes it seem like he just didn't teach them very much -- and therefore makes it harder to believe they really bonded to him during their training.

Other Thoughts: I didn't initially clock that the "Tinder!" in this panel:

... was the main character is casting a spell to light his "join a different party" request form on fire, even though literally the next panel is him standing there holding a burning piece of paper; because it is so so so fucking stupid to shove that speech bubble into that panel. that I just straight up couldn't understand wtf that speech bubble was doing there. Shoving "tinder" into this panel undercuts the reveal in the next panel that yes, he's accepting their invitation. (It also crowds out the female character's face and speech bubble.) And sure, maybe this is a little nitpicky thing, because it's obvious that protagonist is going to accept the girls' invitation to join their party here -- but if this bit doesn't feel at least a teensy bit suspenseful, then it's not an interesting interaction worth putting on the page.

Would I Read More: How does this boring unoriginal tripe have an anime coming out?? No.

[deastrumquodvicis]

Dark Genesis: the Birth of the Psi Corps (review)

TLDR: 3.5/5

I’m a big Babylon 5 fan, always have been. Tie-in novels have always been a favorite genre. When I heard that the Psi Corps trilogy was well-done, and, importantly, canon, I eagerly loaded book one onto my Kindle and finished it in two days, a typical speed for me. As I understand it—though please correct me if I’m wrong—these stories were seeded from the B5verse series bible, and info was intended to trickle out during the original plans for the Telepath War and Crusade’s later seasons.

The good:

It’s canonical, and it’s always interesting to get world-building that was never committed to screen. The slow emergence of the Corps and what it meant felt very much like a dark reflection of Marvel’s X-Men—a group of people with a recently-awakened genetic mutation being persecuted by, in this case, “mundanes”, given classification based on the strength of their power, and eventually given a home where they could use their gifts without shame, and with an anti-group picking up strays and carrying out rebellious, almost terroristic, acts. I suppose that’s not all that much of a surprise with JMS having written the outline, though not the book itself. It’s also interesting to see non-unified pre-EarthGov components, and hints of the construction of EarthDome itself along with the Psi Corps facility. Definite reflections on how Byron’s group saw themselves, and the mistakes they wanted to avoid. Getting first contact with the Centauri was cool, including their opinions on the telepath thing (and Narn-bashing, because, yep, that’s the Centauri).

The bad (or at least the disorienting):

The book took place over something like seventy years. We see four generations of the rebels, and the birth of the fifth, while we get two should-have-term-limits men in power in charge of the Corps and its creation. Yes, the book is divided into four parts, but it became hard to connect to either group and feel for them, even if you don’t hate the Byron arc of the show. It also became hard to keep track of who anyone looked like, because it was an extremely dialogue-heavy, descriptive-light sort of book, and trusted the reader to keep track of who initiated the conversation (very little in the way of “dialogue,” Name said, and it didn’t take a teep to see his mood had soured, instead more “dialogue.” “Dialogue?” “More dialogue.” “Even more dialogue.” “But dialogue?” “No, dialogue.”) The rebels used code-names among themselves, particularly in the first two generations, but the EarthGov types used their, well, government names, and it was hard to know when Blood, Mercy, Monkey, and so on, were being referred to. That got better as the generations went on. But no one really had a distinct voice without descriptors, and rarely was a physical feature mentioned except when the characters were first introduced, at which point, you didn’t know if they were major characters or not. And I really didn’t care for the ending with the baby, it cheapened the whole thing into almost George Lucas (derogatory) levels of retconning. A true “seriously?” moment. And it didn’t feel like Babylon 5. In fact, if it weren’t a worldbuilding puzzle piece for B5, my rating would be lower.

Other:

The Corps uniforms—gloves and badges—didn’t have a clear introduction. I think the badges were only mentioned once, gloves twice. I suppose the author expected the reader to remember Talia’s (iirc) explanation. Some familiar surnames popped up, and an explanation that because the telepath gene travels on the mitochondrial DNA, the daughters take their mother’s name, felt like it was a bit of an excuse to have a Ms. Alexander around. I get what they were going for, but still. The fact-finding trip to Venus was also a bit mixed, and while I enjoyed most of what came out of it, there was something that happened that had me going “really? Like, doesn’t that kind of contradict the plot point in the show with Lyta?” And why are our main rebel telepaths all P12s or P5s? Granted, there was a P0 and a P8, but almost everyone in the rebellion was P12. Would have been nice to have a P10 or a P3 or something, with only the matrilineal line of rebel leaders hitting P12, and more inspiring if none of them reached double-digits. (I know, the baby at the end needed to be P12 for Reasons, something something Psi Corps breeding program being validated, but variety is nice.)

And guys? The cover is so ‘90s.

[naffeclipse]

Found your Sleuth Jesters au through art and started reading...yesterday?

Anyway point is, that parts one through three really eased me in and I didn't see part four and five coming. Very much a situation of, "aww, what a cute and slightly spicy cops and robbers au!" While future chapters loomed silently behind me wielding weapons labeled in glitter pen. (Identity angst, consequences, good world building, whatever suits your fancy.)

But man. The way you built up the fear (perceived certainty) of rejection and guilt in the later chapters so that it colored every single one of the Vigilante's interactions with the Detectives, even the previously safe or comforting ones, raises the tension and hurt deliciously slow. Like mourning a future that hasn't died yet and being left unable to enjoy the present. I did not miss the parallels between Sun talking about confession timing and Moon's rooftop request. (I get why Y/N didn't notice the intended subject, deadly combo of denial and habit, but I still wanted to throttle them a little.)

I'd have to say your characterization, pacing, and character interactions are your strongest points in this series. Each character has a distinct personality, history, and motivation that drives them and it only gets clearer when the story unravels and you become more familiar with each of them. The pacing helps keep the stakes and skills in balance while never slacking it's grip on the reader's attention, not even during the "down time" parts where it feels like relief. It's clear you've put a lot of effort and love into the series as a whole. ;)

And just one more thing (insert Columbo reference here)...when Eclipse asked about the whole vigilante shtick it wasn't just about "making a difference" was it? It was also a kind of penance that the reader feels they'll never pay off. A combination of "this will be more effective/worthwhile than turning myself in because it's like community service! Except I actually get to put my skills to good use!" and "I really don't want to go to jail just to sit and stew in my guilt until they finally decide my death will somehow pay for all the crimes of a group I've already killed." Freedom was definitely a bonus though huh?

Welp...have a good day? And thanks for sharing your works! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

(putting this here instead of on AO3 because I forgot and had to go to bed.)

I'm turning into a puddle over this, rn, just ahhh!!! Thank you so much!! This means the world to me ♥ ♥ ♥

Vigilante!Y/N is definitely making up for the lost time with their vigilantism! Jail/submitting to the law is never really one of their main concerns, so definitely didn't really care to consider turning themselves in lol, but they do want to make amends with their morality. They know they can help this city by fighting for it, and not fighting within and further escalating the rot that's taken over. Their hatred is a weapon and finally, they've turned it onto the ones who deserve it for not doing better to help this city.

[yeahthatwouldbedark]

Yen per second

tropes: death trope, friends to lovers (if you have won a golden medal in squinting really hard), rivals to lovers, bully romance bestie, college au, friends with benefits, Oikawa and reader have known each other since childhood.

trigger warnings (for the entire series): child abuse, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, bullying, depression, child neglect, terminal illness at some point, broken home, mental breakdowns, panic attacks, anxiety, death, injuries (Oikawa’s bad knee for example), substance abuse. 

Chapter 5 

13.7k words 

Age 16 

Going to the movies is as much a tradition to their friendship group as Christmas is to… well the Christians. Every break is that time of the year that drains their pockets, squeezes their bank accounts (Kuroo’s parents), and leaves them out to dry by the end of the month. It’s a religion, a cult if you will. All those worthy of respect, says Chiharu with a triumphant smile that says her words rise victorious against all rebuttals, must worship the cinema. In the world of art, what Chiharu says, goes.

The truth is that Y/n enjoys going to the movies. She enjoys it, not because she especially appreciates the world of cinema with its elements of script, cinematography, or music score, but because they provide a respite that she refuses to admit she needs. She can sit back, no eyes on her. She is paper thin, translucent in the dimness of a theatre lit only by the screen; the jagged edges of her displeasing presence are shorn to the point that she’s smooth enough for everyone to become submerged in the atmosphere without finding their senses lacerated. She is neither happy nor sad, not that it mattered.

Though her ears prick up at each and every sound⸺ the sound of spit being swapped two rows down to her right, the muffled moans, the yawns of boredom, the sighs of disappointment⸺ never do her eyes stray from the screen. Not even as her friends urge someone over in hushed tones, someone who was supposed to have been here 30 minutes ago. An older woman, probably middle-aged and wearing small-rimmed glasses, shushes them. The new guy doesn’t seem to care as he just takes his seat and stuffs his face full of popcorn, munching loud enough for the crunch to creep into the woman’s ears. A look of unadulterated vexation has Kuroo and Chiharu snorting like piglets. Kenma does his best to paint himself as unassociated with their kind.

Rin, to his credit, stops being a nuisance to the other people in the theatre and just focuses on the one person who seems dead set on capturing every single fucking moment of the picture. Her eyes aren’t even wide open, but the intent is written in the utter disregard toward his late arrival, the way she sits with her shoulders flat against the back of the seat when the rest are gesturing at the screen or trash-talking the characters they find annoying. His eyes flit over her hands, how she licks her fingers once the popcorn passes her lips, the way she pulls at the end of her yellow shirt now and then as if to convince herself she’s here too, she’s here still. There’s something else too. He can’t pinpoint what it is. All he knows is that it doesn’t make her better or worse, just distinct. 

Before he knows it, the credits roll and the spectators trickle out like glass beads out of a pocket with holes in it. As if in a trance, she sits there for like two more minutes. It’s an eerie sort of peace, the liminal space between past and present. The latter was what she had to return to. And she does.

At the bar, Ayame and Kenma pay for their drinks, except for Y/n’s (at her insistence). Kenma hands it to her personally, knowing if he were to leave it up to Kuroo, Chiharu, or Ayame, they would throw their arms around her and have her hang out with them immediately and for the next three hours. What she needs is a few more minutes to herself in order to be with the others again. She thanks him and slinks off to the front steps of the building, where she sits with her elbows planted on her knees.

As fate would have it, Kuroo finds her and plops down next to her. The new guy sits next to him.  

“Hey there, hermit.” He says with that stupid grin, an omen of stupidity about to be spilled.

She takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake. “The dawn has yet to come, rooster.”

“Mind if we sit here?” As if he’s actually asking.

“It’s not like I own the stairs.”

“What are you wearing?”

Y/n sighs. “The same thing I’ve been wearing all night.”

Next to her, Kuroo cringes, sobs, internally throws up and rolls on his back. That’s exactly the energy she gets from his reaction to her very much harmless outfit.

“But it’s so ugly, Y/n!” He whines, tugging at her sleeve, “So ugly I can’t even.”

She slaps his hand off and pushes him so his shoulder knocks against the other guy’s, the latter having just pulled out a cigarette from the packet.

“Don’t look at it then.” She says.

“Introductions!” The change in subject would be alarming if she weren’t used to his absurd antics. He gestures to the guy, trapping his chin between his thumb and index. “This is Suna Rintaro. You might have seen him around the neighborhood, transcending planes of existence by means of pot.”

The boy’s confused, green eyes, which until two seconds ago were boring holes on Y/n’s side, now pierce Kuroo through like a sack of flour.

“I’ve only smoked like twice.” He says in a low voice.

Creases of fake concern appear on Kuroo’s brow. “Just trying to ruin your reputation here, why are you mad?”

The new guy shakes his head, flicking on the lighter and placing it at the tip of his cigarette. Did he not realize he was contradicting himself by embodying the stereotype Kuroo had just shoved him into? Or was this just one of the occasions when one would find him having a smoke? Maybe it just so happened that she was there and he needed to destroy himself a little that night. Maybe he just needed a little bit of a courage boost to talk to the one person who had ignored him, not out of malice or repulsion, but because just like him she found it difficult to immerse herself in conversations with strangers. Maybe, just maybe, he could offer her a cigarette too.

“L/n Y/n.” She introduces herself.

His mouth lifts. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, hey I’m just gonna check on my girl real quick.” Kuroo stands, gesturing at the two of them as if he’s pointing at some slimy creatures. “You two talk. Or send brain waves. Whatever it is you introverts do.”

And that’s it. Kuroo is out of the picture. For the next 30 minutes at least. Or at least until the rest of them bore him to death, Ayame wants to go home, or Chiharu and Kenma call him something mean that makes him come and sulk near Y/n.  Rin is curious, if not a tad eager to get the girl to talk to him, to listen to what she has to say. Y/n is reluctant to speak, afraid of botching the whole thing upon uttering a single word.

He exhales the smoke through his lips.

“So, like,” He starts, “Do you like action movies?”

Y/n glances over at him. “Not my favorite to be honest. I prefer historical dramas, romcoms, tragedies.”

“Yeah, thought so.”

He keeps on peering at her through his lashes, waiting for her to keep the conversation going. Luckily for him, she does.

“Kuroo said you play volleyball.”

“Yeah,” He answers. “You like it?”

She shrugs. “Not really. I suck at it. But I suck at most team sports so.”

Rin draws closer, sitting just a bit farther from her than where Kuroo had previously sat.

“Not a team player, are you?” He urges.

This time she does look at him, and I mean really look at him. She must not have noticed him shift, because her eyes widen just the slightest.

“It’s just easier to do things on my own.” She mutters. “Team sports are difficult.”

“What do you find most difficult”

“Basically everything? Sets, serves, receives. Forget about spikes.” She pauses and he makes to speak, but then she adds, “Maybe I’m just dumb.”

“That’s not what the rooster told me.”

She leans forward, her elbows once again planted on her knees. “My grades are good I guess.”

“Couldn’t be me. I’m failing four classes.” The revelation has her head whipping around at a breakneck speed. Rin shrugs just as she did moments before, “Yeah, I don’t study. Or like- I study enough to stay on the team.”

She regards him with eyes that betray reluctance. He’s seen it many a time before, whenever his grandmother would ask his mom whether she was still drinking, if there was enough money for food, or if the electricity bill had been paid. He spies it in the eyes of this girl who doesn’t know him but secretly wishes to. He suspects his eyes are no different.

Gaze straying to the fingers trapping the cigarette, Y/n poses the question at last. “Are you thinking of leaving the team then?”

No one has considered the possibility that volleyball might be something he no longer enjoys. That Suna Rintaro feels alone, isolated among friends that would raze the world to the ground for him. That when he’s burying himself in the crook of someone’s neck, fondling their breasts, or getting drunk in their cologne, he’s just losing himself in the numbness of the moment as he waits for it to transform into ecstasy.

He takes another drag of his cigarette before casting it down and stomping on it.

“Maybe.” He answers, “Or maybe I should pay you to tutor me. That way I can stay.”  

She inches away as if to size him up. “Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t.”

“Should I give you my number or-

He cuts her off by stealing her phone which sits in the pocket of her knee-length olive green shorts. The action surprises her, as does the audacious smirk on his lips when he sees there is no pattern or password necessary to unlock the device. Rin types in his number and asks her if she has credit so he can call himself. Seeing her nod, he does just that. But then sees her gaze gradually shed its apprehension. She stares at him like she’s trying to call him by a name or stamp a label on him.

“You’ve seen me around before.” He affirms, handing her the phone. She slips it back inside the pocket. “I’m spending the summer at my cousin’s. You might have seen him running like literally every evening.”

Her lips part. “The skater boy.”

Rin raises up his hands.  “Guilty as charged.”

After that, they talk about volleyball, music, films they’ve watched as of late, and their current obsessions. An hour or so flies by with them sitting side by side, submerged in a world at once dissimilar and mundane. Never once does he tell her to stop talking, but the fear that he might bubbles to the surface from time to time, making her repeat words and phrases as if she’s giving a rushed presentation.

At one point they just sit in silence, watching the vehicles speed by, listening to the laughter and shouts of strangers or the sound of empty plastic cups toppling down the stairs. It’s too good, Y/n realizes with dread settling in her belly. She has to leave before the mood sours and she becomes rancid in his eyes.

“You heading home?” He asks as she stands, looking up at her with eyes like laser beams, “I heard they’re going to the arcade after this.”

There’s not much left for me here, is what she thinks.

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She tells him and finishes what’s left of her drink. The plastic sweats in her grasp. “I mean I’m glad I came but at the same time… I’m kinda-

“Tired.”

Y/n looks down at him, nodding. Then she starts to walk down the stairs, but halfway down she turns to look at him.

“Text me when you want to schedule that study session.”

Her reminder has his lips itching to smile. He hadn’t thought she meant it when she offered to tutor him, had thought it a way to inadvertently ask for his number. So, she hadn’t been playing a part then. She was genuine in wanting to help him stay on the team. High in confidence, Rin stands and makes it a point to look her up and down.

“Yellow looks good on you.” He says, and lets her go.

 November the 25th 

“Just answer your grandma, bro.”

Atsumu has this uncanny ability to get on Rin’s nerves entirely unprovoked. He’s naturally a bit annoying, with how he gets all up in people’s personal bubble, poking at it until it explodes, and then laughs it off as the offended party is left seething, or at the very least perplexed. But right now, when Rin is trying to watch the goddamn movie and ignore his grandma’s persistent calls, Atsumu pointing it out isn’t helping. It’s evening, and it’s raining cats and dogs outside. He just wants to chill for real.

“Mind your business.” He says under his breath.

But Atsumu, being Atsumu, refuses to drop the subject. Instead, he prods.

“She still feel bad about all the girls you’ve fucked?” He asks with a snort.

This has Rin’s blood reaching an almost boiling point. He stares ahead into the TV, where some poor sucker is shown getting his teeth knocked out of his mouth.

“How’s it going not being able to get the girl you like to like you back?”

Atsumu spins to face him, his face contorted in shock.

“Hah?!” He exclaims. “She likes me! We’re going on a date on Wednesday.”

Rin raises an eyebrow, now facing him too. “Okay but like… why on Wednesday?”

“She has a midterm to study for.” Atsumu sighs in contentment as he pulls the blanket up to his chin, his features shifting into a look of pure smugness. Good thing Rin was sensible enough to bring a blanket for himself. “You should have seen the look on her face when I asked her out. Her glasses make her look so cute I could moan and die. Also, she said Mercury will no longer be in gatorade by then.”

The day has come for Suna Rintaro to admit defeat and yield to the supreme forces in the universe. It is simply impossible for Atsumu to have a chance with a girl as smart as her. Fucking absurd man! She is orderly, great at managing time, and rigid with a capital R. How could she look at this bona fide dumbass and think ‘let’s give this salivating dog a shot’. But maybe that was it. Maybe Miya Atsumu was just that much enamored with this girl that she could sense it in everything he said or did.

Maybe Rin needed to prove to himself he could do it too. That’s how, seconds later, he finds himself typing the first thing that comes to mind while Atsumu continues to pour his heart out.

You: save me (19: 44)

You: atsumu is talking about the girl he likes (19: 44)

He thinks he’ll have to wait a while until he hears that familiar notification sound. He hopes he won’t have to.

Dandelion: wait (19: 47)

His prayers are answered. The timing is godsent. He could even kiss Atsumu right now for prodding the damn subject because he now has an excuse to talk to her. Not that he has to have one. Mouth tilting at the corners, he suppresses the urge to type before she’s finished saying what she has to say.

Dandelion: he actually managed to pull it off? (19: 47)

Dandelion: or just dreaming about her (19: 47)

Her offhand insinuation that Atsumu might just have failed to meet that girl’s standards almost has Rin showing his housemate the text. If only to get him to shut up and sulk in his room for like an hour.

You: believe it or not (19: 47)

You: he did (19: 47)

You: and he wont stfu about it (19: 47)

This time she takes a while to respond. Like 10 minutes, give and take. He begins to suspect she might be studying and is considering leaving her be when he receives another text.

Dandelion: tell him I said congrats (19: 58)

You: you studying rn (19: 59)

The exchange happens in rapid succession. He might or might not congratulate Atsumu on her behalf. He doesn’t care about that at the moment. He has this gnawing feeling that he’s intruding on something.

Dandelion: uh yes (20: 01)

Her response sours his mood not going to lie. But it’s not her fault for being swamped with assignments to the point of not having enough time to sleep, let alone make time for friends. Not that she’d agree to meet up again if the rest were there too.

Dandelion: I’m studying with Oikawa at his place (20: 01)

Dandelion: he has this huge jar of sour candy (20: 01)

His eyes narrow at the second text. Did he read that right? She’s at his apartment? At this time? How is she going to get back home? Is he going to take her? Could it be that she’s staying the night? I mean, it doesn’t matter to Rin seeing as they all know each other a bit by now and they’re just doing that project of theirs but… ye know. Jealousy is a disease. And Rin is bedridden. Not that he’ll ever admit it even to himself.

He makes a mental note to get a huge fucking jar of sour candy. She’s never explicitly said anything about her undying infatuation with the product, but it’s clear as glass from the text and from how her eyes linger a tad longer on the jars at the store.

You: are you free tomorrow (20: 03)

At times like these Rin mentally prepares himself for an excuse, a rejection of some kind on her part. It doesn’t always happen this way but she’s become more self-contained, or rather, isolated these past few weeks. It’s as if she wants to see him but doesn’t know she does until they’re doing something that has her smiling into her cup of warm chocolate. He even lies back, hand on his lap as he runs the other through his hair while staring at the ceiling.

Dandelion: I think so (20: 04)

Dandelion: I can do some reading at night (20: 04)

The moment he takes in these texts he mentally raises a triumphant fist. Convincing Y/n to go out for once is an Olympic sport and Suna Rintaro is winning.

You: lets go somewhere (20: 05)

Dandelion: where? (20: 05)

You: won’t tell you (20: 05)

He enjoys the fluidity of the conversation. He waits a few seconds before seeing her type and sending another text to rile her up.

You: think I’ll keep you on your toes (20: 05)

She stops typing and then starts over.

Dandelion: sigh (20: 05)

Dandelion: aight what time (20: 05)

What would the best time be for a date that is not a date. A date that lasts for hours but feels like seconds? Maybe it’s not so much the hour as the place that matters. Or both. Fuck if he knows!

You: around noon (20: 06)

Rin can almost hear her groaning on the other end. He bites his lower lip to repress a chuckle. It almost hurts.

Dandelion: your vague descriptions make me want to jump (20: 06)

Rin leans forward once more, fingers firing away.

You: into my arms (20: 06)

Dandelion: might as well (20: 06)

Dandelion: its an early death all the same (20: 06)

Blood rushes to his groin. That was an excellent comeback. She could write Hamlet but Shakespeare couldn’t write her response. This is just me, the narrator, putting Suna Rintaro’s thoughts into words, his horniness included. On second thought, horniness is a state of being… but I’ll allow it.

He tries to get comfortable under his forest green blanket and clenches his fist around his cell phone so it doesn’t wrap around his cock. But there’s this headache going by Miya Atsumu that calls out his name, tearing him away from his fantasies.

“You’re not even listening to me, man!” He whines.

Rin groans internally, his face expressionless as he fixes his eyes on the TV. “Yeah, yeah, mercury is in gatorade.”

“Retrograde man!”  

   December the 7th

That Oikawa Tooru is diligent is no overstatement. It is common knowledge that everyone has come to accept as a virtue of his, one that he has cultivated and used to his advantage in almost every area that has piqued his interest throughout the years. He knows how important it is to be consistent and to give it your all when you feel that you already have. He also knows that she is no different. It’s what makes their teamwork so great, to begin with. At the same time, it is what makes their teamwork pathological.

They don’t know when to call it quits.

Every day for the past week and a half, they have been meeting at the library to revise and edit. When it comes to projects, they are on the same wavelength; if it isn’t perfect, it is rubbish. Which in and of itself is an extremely detrimental mantra to perpetuate. But it becomes far more destructive when the slightest mention of an inadequacy paves the path for a lot of fidgeting, nail-biting, and lip-picking.

Both of them are brimming with anxiety, but she’s the one on the verge of bursting at the seams. The average audience wouldn’t be able to pick up on the details. They haven’t spent most of their lives engraving every mannerism, gesture, or characteristic of her while pretending not to look. They don’t know that her clenching those fists isn’t a display of barely contained rage. She’s trying not to bolt.

Luckily for both of them, Tooru is able to appear calm even in most nerve-wracking situations. Which is what he is doing at the moment. Seamlessly, he takes the lead when it is crystal clear that she is close to stuttering or fidgeting. When she reclaims some degree of self-possession, it is then her turn to help him cool down. This can only be achieved thanks to hours of training, advice shared (more like him telling her how to appeal to an audience), and a mutual understanding that they really fucking need this to work if they want to solidify their status as the best students of their year.

Once they conclude their presentation, he can’t help but look at her instead of the professor and their peers. Her hands are no longer folding in on themselves. The class continues and they sit to listen. Or at least the rest are.

“Excellent work you two,” Their professor remarks while they’re trying to trickle out of the auditorium with the others. They stop in their tracks to face the professor, Tooru with a smile, and she with an indomitable mask of neutrality, “Miss. L/n, your oral delivery of the material has significantly improved since the last time I asked you to explain concepts to the rest of the students. I trust it was Mr. Oikawa who schooled you in the art of public speaking?”

The way her mood sours is like a flash of lightning. It electrifies every fiber of his being, sends his nerves on overdrive. Nothing is shown outwardly, but he’s spent enough time with her to know the particulars.

“Yes, professor.” She confirms, her mouth hardly moving.

Before the professor can process her reaction, Tooru intervenes with a smile, “I just gave her some tips. The rest was all her.”

The professor nods and, just like Tooru thought he would, returns the gesture. People tend to respond to smiles perceived as genuine.

“The cooperative nature of your teamwork is embodied in the reaction that it coaxed out of the rest of your peers.” The man’s comment has Tooru relaxing just a little from within, “Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, professor.”

Only his voice rings out. She remains silent all the way out of the building. Usually, Tooru doesn’t have to put much effort in order to catch up with her, but it seems that today she is fiercely determined to leave him in the dust. One would go as far as saying that he’s slightly out of breath by the time he’s close enough to clamp his hand on her shoulder. But that might just be the nerves.  Or perhaps the drizzle that is getting just a tad more violent as seconds pass.

“What is it?” She doesn’t even look at him while spitting the words out.

What have I done? What do I do to fix it? Can I fix it in the first place? Nothing is more urgent than the events unfolding at this very moment. He releases her elbow.

“Let’s go to my house.” He tries to sound as cheerful as he had anticipated he would be after the project. Her cold stare almost deters him. “I need some help with physiological psychology. There’s this chapter that just won’t cling to my brain cells.”

“Why should I care?”

His brain is so scrambled that Tooru doubts there is a way for him to revert it back to its natural shape. But if he doesn’t present a valid enough reason, his efforts will all have been for naught. He can discern a lack of expectations in her eyes, the dull quality that so often makes him want to pull his hair out. She expects all the worst things of him, and neither of the good, while managing to assume nothing at all. One of his greatest fears is proving her dearth of hope right.

“Because I can pay you and feed you sour candies,” Is what comes out.

All he can think about is tying a noose around his neck and end it all. An agonizing death is precisely what he deserves because that has to be the lamest excuse in the history of pathetic excuses. She won’t agree to that, the voice in his head jeers.

Just when all hope seems lost, she faces him fully and says, “We’ll negotiate the price once we get there.”

Chuckling, Tooru places a gloved hand on her shoulder, ushering her towards his car.

“As you command, my lady.”

The best way to describe the ride back home is a nebula of silence and tension. It’s like they backtracked to two weeks before today, the cassette playing the same screeching yet quiet tune of discord. Try as he might to diffuse it with music blasting from the radio, she seems dead-set on leaving whatever grievances she has to fester. This, in and of itself, is something he cannot abide. That is why, once the door clicks shut behind them, he demands the following.

“Tell me what upset you.” He says, unbuttoning his coat. He can sense her incipient denial, “Don’t deny it. I know it has something to do with what the professor said, but I can’t pinpoint what it was about his words that… frustrated you to this point.”

He watches her place her backpack on the sofa.

“Will you stop acting like you give a damn?” The words shock him, but she cuts him off before he can refute her assumption, “What? Are you going to give me tips on how to open up now? Because you’re an expert on the matter, right?”

It’s not just the words that have him rooted on the spot. It’s the way she glances at his bedroom, full of judgment and derision, that weighs on his stomach. Nausea is a familiar sensation, but Tooru wishes it wasn’t frothing within him at this moment.

If he were a more innocent man, he would call this a low blow. Her allusion to Tooru’s dependency on alcohol and the way she used it to strike a chord in him… is something he would have done. He would have grinned, tipped up their chin to observe the festering humiliation, pat their heads as if they were dogs, and felt regretful the moment he was certain no eyes were on him. She has learned from the very best.

The sound of her unzipping her backpack brings him back.

“Let’s just get on with what we came here to do.” She says, “What is it you don’t und-

“I wouldn’t be so adamant to know,” He begins once again, “Considering everything if I didn’t have a feeling that your frustration somehow has an indirect relation to me.” He pauses as she shoots him a glance while leaving through the pages of her book, “Just tell me what it is so I don’t jump to conclusions.”

Y/n lets out a long sigh, then turns to look him in the eye.

“You’re a volleyball player.” She drawls, “Jumping is part of your job, Mr. Oikawa.”

And then, just like with a glass and a windshield, everything becomes ever so clear. The professor’s comments throughout the weeks in relation to her public speaking skills, the bland look on her face as she hears the same things their high school teachers used to say reiterated time and time again, the way her shoulders slump as soon as she returns to her seat. It isn’t that the professor is unkind. It’s that she believes she is incapable of fulfilling the expectations he has for her, the brightest student in their year. It is frustrating to be told you are great. That your greatness could be perfected still. It is humiliating to be told that the improvement comes from pieces of advice provided by the person who spent his every interaction with you demeaning you.

She is frustrated because she is ashamed to have needed his guidance, to have been told it served her well. But that is exactly the truth.

Tooru hangs his coat on the back of the couch. Planting on hand there for support, he gives her an assertive look.

“As much as it might hurt you to acknowledge, it is true that my social skills are far superior to yours.” Despite his best efforts, his voice comes out tinged with frustration, “The professor was only pointing out that you have improved. It’s his job to provide you with feedback. That often includes criticism.”

Y/n looks down swiftly, pretending to focus on turning the pages. She is about to turn her back on him, but being the mischievous little brat he is, he decides to tease her by stealing her book. He finds the chapter he told her he had difficulty grasping, and hands it back to her with a lopsided grin.

“But my, who would have thought the day would come that you’d feel inferior to me.” He jokes.

Internally, she feels like she could set his house on fire, tear him to shreds and pulverize all hope of him becoming the volleyball star he’s always worked tirelessly to become. She wants to push and punch him until he crouches and falls to the floor in agony. And then she wants to pummel him until his black and blue. She’s unaware of these ugly emotions, these gruesome momentary desires. So, she reacts the only way she knows how.

“And you’ve always felt inferior to Kageyama.”

Tooru’s grin disintegrates. To swallow back tears and scathing remarks, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He proceeds to remove his gloves and turn on the AC. He can feel her eyes on him as he does so, as though she’s waiting for him to snap. As if she’s waiting for him to confirm her fears.

“The professor didn’t mean anything malicious by what he said. Neither did I.” He runs his fingers through his brown locks, “I was just… teasing.”

“You were patronizing me.”

“I wasn’t.”

She rolls her eyes, “And now you’re lying.”

“No. Lying would be to tell you that the way you act doesn’t do you a disservice. Do you want me to lie? Would I earn your trust then?” Tooru takes her hand in his, feeling the cool leather on his warm flesh. He tries to convey his sincerity, “When I said we could learn from each other, I meant exactly this. I teach you how to be more socially aware. More in tune with the values and needs of others. In return, you teach me how not to let myself be carried away by other people’s expectations and opinions.”

At first, she was taken aback by his display of skinship. Now, she holds his gaze seemingly without trepidation.

“That’s going to be a hard one, isn’t it? Mr. Oikawa embarking on a journey to discover some semblance of authenticity.” She pulls her hands free of his, “And selfish, cruel, cold Y/n learning to be human.”

“No, I didn’t- will you just listen? I really don’t-

Lowering her eyes to the page, Y/n sits down and says, “Which part don’t you understand?”

The conversation is over, he realizes. She’s put an end to it. All he can do now is sit down, tell her what she doesn’t understand, and set bring his jar of sour candy to the table. So, that’s exactly what he does. He changes into his sweats and hoodie, sets the jar on the table, and smiles gently as she reaches inside it.

His throat tightens and his eyes burn with unshed tears. Tooru wishes he could just sob to his heart’s content like the night he learned she had left, and the many nights after that. He wishes he could just let rivers of alcohol carry them out to sea so he could drain them both. His body would crumble in on itself. His mind would be but a blank slate. He would be at a hellish sort of peace.

  December the 8th

There is something about the final days of March that has a person looking out the window. The object on which they spent minutes and hours gazing could be a pile of leaves carefully swept to a moldy corner by the janitor, the lilac buds straining within the boundaries of youth, the laughter carried in the moist breeze, the dew clinging to the fragrant petals of a blooming rose, or the paper planes spearing through the yard to land on some drooping branch. There is something altogether peculiar about these days that has everyone’s spirits soaring almost too carelessly. Perhaps it's the beginning of a new semester. Maybe it’s all that I have mentioned, none, or more.

The point still stands. The world is high on expectations, and Tooru is no exception. His muscles are a bit more defined than before Spring break and he has also grown 2 centimeters. The results must be apparent because one of the prettiest girls in school, an underclassman, kept touching his arm while speaking to him upon arrival.  It was an ego boost, to say the least.

It would have been perfect if Y/n weren’t in his class. Tooru has always hated it when she was only a few feet away from him. In middle school, he made it his business to either pretend she didn’t exist or to pick on her until the rest did too. It was one or the other. But every time, he has to have every classmate on his side.

Then again, he always hated it when she wasn’t in his vicinity. He would find himself flirting with the girls in her class (making them believe he cared about them), or chatting with one of his teammates. All so he could sneak glimpses of her going about her day. The pattern was identical; whenever the two of them were in the same room, admiration gravitated toward him while she remained a one-woman island. The only exception was when Iwaizumi, Maki, or Mattsun were her classmates. They would always speak to him where he couldn’t reach her. It infuriated him. After all, he didn’t always ‘visit’ for the sole purpose of picking on her.

This semester, however, there is just them. No outside interference. He can stare, glare, mock, jeer, all at her expense. He can pull on her shoulder-length hair and pinch her arm. All so he can get a reaction out of her. It is cruel, and it inspires others to be the same. But because he is the charismatic, intelligent, attractive, diligent, ambitious Oikawa Tooru, every unkind gesture of his is the bastion of goodness. It’s what keeps him going. It makes him sick.

It is 10:30 in the morning, and he’s been sitting at his desk, his hands clenched, for the past 8 minutes looking without truly seeing what goes on around him. Yesterday’s practice has left him sore, exhausted, and overall cranky. He could barely swallow his breakfast and now he’s hungry.

“Hey, do you know how to solve this?”

The voice in and of itself isn’t one that piques his interest. No, it’s the sight of what is unfolding 2 desks away from his. Sato Kaoru, a member of the handball team, places a hand on the desk at the very front, looking down expectantly at the girl sitting there. In turn, she looks up at him with zero emotion on her face.

“Cuz I’ve been trying and I still can’t.”

After staring for a couple of extremely uncomfortable seconds, during which the boy slowly starts to lose his patience, she says, “I can explain it to you. So that you do it well on the test.”

There she goes, misinterpreting other people’s desires and expectations. Making more trouble for herself seems to be her specialty.

“Yeah, fine.” The boy says after swallowing an insult.

She does explain it alright, thoroughly and clearly. It’s obvious she practiced a lot to be able to say it in front of someone else. Sato nods along with every new concept she expounds upon. In the end, he’s able to solve a similar exercise on his own. Before he departs for his desk, he mutters a reluctant ‘thank you’ to which she responds with an ‘it’s nothing’. Tooru watches everything unfold like a story the events of which revolve around a ghostly girl, the fabric of her existence almost see-through. It makes him want to reach out just to make sure she’s tangible, real, not a figment of other people’s ephemeral imagination or necessities. As if it heard him, the softest breeze sweeps her hair to the side, exposing her neck. Tooru gulps. His fingers loosen.

What would she say if he were to run his fingers through her hair? Would she let him trace shapes on the back of her neck? After all, he just wants to make sure she’s not a mirage.  

The bell ringing makes him jolt. Rubbing his neck, Tooru looks around to see if anyone caught him in the act of staring. No one is looking at him funny. All he has to do is be normal. Yes, that’s it. It’s the hunger and exhaustion that has him pondering the silliest things. Once he has lunch, all will return to normal.

By the time PE rolls around, he’s a new man. During lunch, he ignored her. Throughout their classes, he did the same. With some luck, they won’t have to interact during this joint lesson either. He silently prays they’re not partnered together, letting out a sigh of relief when his prayers are heard. His partner is Ikeda Yua, a girl of average height and ample bosom. That’s enough to get teenage Oikawa Tooru’s juices flowing.

“Okay, so for today you boys and girls are going to warm up and play against each other in mixed teams.” Professor Masuda says, her eyebrows furrowed as always, “But first, you’re going to warm up in teams of two.”

“No way,” Says the boy next to Tooru. “Do we really have to?”

It’s the guy from before, now donning an expression of exasperation. There is no need for Tooru to wonder who his partner is, as there is only one person who is hopeless when it comes to team sports. It’s the person standing at the very edge, a tad farther from the other girls. Looking on impassively, Y/n appears as though she couldn’t give a quarter of shit even if she tried. Occasionally, her hand will drift to her forehead, tucking the strands ruffled by the breeze behind her ear, likely because she forgot her hair tie.

“Yes, it is decided.” Asserts professor Ueda.

Pointing in her direction, Sato groans obnoxiously, “But she’s so bad at this.”

Some of the students try to suppress their snickers. Others, not at all bashful, laugh at the boy’s display of displeasure. Tooru considers joining the circus. Before he can let out a chuckle, he takes in her face. The way she looks around as if she doesn’t understand they’re laughing at her, the palms rubbing at her gym shorts in a way most wouldn’t be able to tell. She probably just wants this to be over.

“Pack that displeasure up and send it straight to hell, Mr. Sato.” Professor Masuda’s frown deepens. Y/n might not be one of her favorites, but there’s too much to do and so little time, meaning the childish complaints of a teenager are at the very bottom of her list of things to give a fuck about. “Come on, everyone! Girls and boys in rows facing each other! Make sure it’s your partner that’s standing before you!”

And so, it begins. Tooru and the Ikeda girl pick up one of the balls in the basket and begin to do some passes. Now and then, he throws in a flirtatious remark, and they both laugh. It’s all going smoothly. Everything goes smoothly when he’s not thinking of her. That is until the time comes for the boys and girls to stand in their respective lines and demonstrate how much their passes have improved.

“I knew it.” Sato next to him bites out, “You suck at this.”

Y/n is tired. She truly is both physically and mentally tired. All she wants is for this class to finish so she can go home and lock herself inside her bedroom. Nobody will be able to see her. She won’t be the butt of anyone’s jokes or insults, things she has difficulty picking up on let alone reacting to. She will be so safe, so tranquil. But first, she has to do her part.

Instead of passing the ball to Sato, she holds it.

“I’d do better if you showed me how to do it.” She means it, even though she hates the idea of being lectured by someone who has been dumping expletives on her from the moment they were partnered. When she looks straight at him, however, she is met with a look of contempt. That’s why she passes the ball to him, “I’ll call the professor over so she can-  

It’s too fast for Tooru to understand what’s happening. One second Sato’s arm stretches and the next Y/n is face down on the floor. For a couple of seconds, complete silence engulfs the gymnasium. Everyone looks on like an animated scarecrow. There comes the sound of balls dropping from hands, gasps from open mouths, and a snort or two. Someone sets out looking for the professors, who are at the moment absurdly nowhere to be seen. On his end, Tooru keeps waiting for her to stand back up. When ten seconds have passed, he takes a step forward, and then another. Just then, she whimpers and rises to her knees. Hair conceals her face from view, so he can’t get a good look.

“Sorry,” Tooru hears Sato say, the amusement in his voice laced with what can only be a concern for the consequences of his actions, “I’m used to playing handball.”

“Shut up for a second.” Whispers another, a girl this time, “Nobody believes that.”

Tooru watches her plant both of her palms on the floor, but that’s not what grabs his attention. It’s the crimson trail her hands leave behind when they almost give in. It’s the dripping sound origination from where she remains hunched over. The echo of it almost has him dashing for the exit.

“Oh, god, she’s bleeding.” Squeaks a girl, “What do we do?”

“The professors are coming!” Announces the one who went looking. Footsteps come to a halt. “Fuck, is that blood?”

The following is the cruelest, albeit true, “Her nose is fucked, isn’t it?”

Besides himself with shock, Tooru places a hand on her upper back. Her shoulders tense.

“Are you alright?” The question in and of itself is idiotic, but he can’t think of anything else to say. It’s the fucking blood, he’s sure of it, “The professors are almost here.”

Slowly, she rises to her feet. Exactly as he thought, there’s a small puddle of blood on the floor. He attempts to get a good look at her face, to check the damage done to her face, but she swats his hand away as if it were a pest. If he were his normal self⸺ dramatic and full of energy⸺ he would be responding to her attitude with a jab at some aspect of her being. Yet, he is none of those things today. That is why, when she walks out the door⸺ swaying and righting herself⸺ he does no more than watch her leave.

The class goes on, but now there are two fewer people among them.

At practice, Iwaizumi bombards him with questions. Maki just sits there with a poker face of otherworldly boredom, conversing with Mattsun about the current developments in the field of Oikawa’s douchebaggery. Tooru’s protests that he’d been minding his own business ring loud and clear across the court yet still they go unheard. No one believes him, which… fair I guess. But all their justified lack of faith does is incensing him to the point that he all but rushes back home with the firm purpose of bringing her mood down to a brand new low.

He even waits for her to join them for the dinner his mom has invited the L/ns to. Her absence only serves to send his heart racing in frustration. First, she treated him like a bothersome insect when he was unwittingly trying to inquire about her state. Then, she became the reason his friends were pissed at him for the entire practice. As if this wasn’t enough, his mom won’t stop pestering him about her. Is Y/n doing well at school? Are you still friends? She looks up to you, so lend her a hand, okay?

Tears of frustration prickle at the edges, but if he smiles wide enough his eyes crinkle and they just make his eyes shine. But there’s no need for such tricks once he’s out on the balcony of his bedroom, where he catches sight of her sitting with her knees to her chest.

“You’re such an eyesore.” He mutters.

Y/n doesn’t jolt or scour her surroundings for the source of the insult. She’s in so much pain, that his words feel like petals in comparison.

Tooru’s grip on the railing tightens until his flesh turns white.

“Just like in middle school.” He spits out, “Ignoring people when they talk to you. Either staring like a creep or looking away. Doing the most to set yourself apart from the rest when you’re heads and shoulders below them.”

His words are ignored once more. Biting into his lower lip, he racks his brain for something that might make her tick.

“Even now, while your family is dining with mine, you choose to remain alone.” He sees her glance out the corner of her eye, arms tightening around her knees, so he presses on, “A recluse.”

“They didn’t want me to come.”

Whatever he might have had to say dies in his throat then and there. His lips slightly part and his hands loosen around the metal.

“I already know I’m not good. And I’m not mad or anything.” Her voice is slightly nasal. She stands, finally giving him a full view of her face. Her left eye, cheek, and upper lip are harrowingly bruised. Her nose, undoubtedly broken, is covered in a white dressing. “I just don’t want to be hit anymore.”

With that, she leaves him for the safety of her bedroom. The wind blows, making him shiver and seek the warmth of his house as she did. Once he finds himself out of everyone’s sight, he darts to his bathroom to vomit the contents of his stomach, his three meals flushed down the toiled in the span of a minute. Even then, he continues to dry heave while hunched over the toilet seat.

It’s too much. His academics, practice, his need for perfection, his influence on others, the craving for it, and the consequences of exercising such power. He might not have done anything today, but all his actions have led to this point. This, he only realizes years down the line. For now, he soothes himself with rationalizations of his deeds.

If you’re wondering how he sleeps at night, I can tell you. Sometimes he sleeps in a shirt and boxers, other nights topless. He looks up at the ceiling, thinking of spaceships and UFOs. His thoughts drift off to volleyball techniques and strategies. He sleeps hyperconscious of any sounds from the other side of the wall. And when the sounds do come, he pays close attention, anticipating with bated breath the music that would float from her phone.

They both have similar descriptions of it, and each time they find a new way to define it.

It was like breathing while your chest weighed at once too little and too much as if the pressure couldn’t decide whether to exist or scatter across oblivion. It was like facing a great expanse of sea or land, simply sitting with your knees folded against your chest as if to shrink the vastness of your deserted landscape to the size of a walnut. And in this petite universe, of which they were eternal residents, they were separated merely by the thin divide of fear. Fear of being cared for. Fear of touching and being touched. Fear of everything that shouldn’t have to be feared. It was the hardest barrier to breach.

Eventually, meaning the following day, she returned to school. In his most sober moments, Tooru thinks that perhaps she shouldn’t have. Perhaps she should have left since then. That way, she would have been happier sooner, and he wouldn’t have had the chance to say the things he’d said. She would have known spring.

Tooru jolts up. Air rushes in and out of his lungs as if pumped by an external force. In his chest, his lungs feel heavy, almost stone-like. He doesn’t know what else to do other than frown and clutch his damp shirt while his lips part only to gravitate towards each other like magnets of opposite poles.

To think that a recollection can have a far more harrowing effect on a person than a nightmare. But there’s more to it than a few memories of a spring day. It’s the weeks gone by without a drop of alcohol. His pathetic attempt to put the cork back on the bottle seems to have caught up to him. His mood swings have worsened. The healthier he becomes, the weaker he feels. His bones anchor him to the ground and won’t let him make his way to the bathroom without significant effort. The pigmentation under his eyes has darkened a few shades. In short, Oikawa Tooru is at his worst acting like he couldn’t be better.

For all his fidgeting and overly artificial charm on this sunny yet chilly morning, his act is convincing. Although, his success would be better attributed to Y/n’s overall disregard for her surroundings as well as her resolve not to look at him for longer than three consecutive seconds.

Tooru’s shivers, the scratching behind his ears, and the tapping of his foot go unnoticed as he asks her if she slept alright in the guest room, if she still enjoyed her eggs well done, and if the temperature in the room was ideal. Every question is met head-on with a ‘yes’. Whenever she speaks, the cadence of her voice makes his head hurt a little less. Yet it never lasts. She’s not exactly enthused to make conversation with him (especially after the argument). And as frail as this might make him seem, it makes him wish he were invisible. A see-through, wingless bird.

As they cut through their eggs, her phone rings. She wipes her hands and picks up the call at once.

“Hello? Who’s calling?” Her tone might even be called ‘hopeful’. She nods along as the person on the other end of the call gets to talking. “Ah, yeah. Of course, I’ll be there tomorrow at 5:30 PM. Thank you.”

Breakfast is all but forgotten as she takes one look at the time on her screen and starts packing. Slowly, Tooru raises the fork to his lips, watching her wrap her frayed scarf around her neck. Isn’t it too soon? Is it perhaps too late? Has he already run out of time?

Whatever the case may be, he’s lost his appetite.

“Is it a date?” He asks instead, injecting some of that teasing attitude into his voice.

Looking at Tooru wrapping the dishes in foil, she scoffs, “I’d rather date a rat than a landlord.”

Laughter breaks free from his chest. He almost drops a plate while he’s trying to open the fridge.

“Careful, cutie,” He cautions her jokingly, “You might trample on the feelings of the elderly.”

“Not that it matters but the landlord is middle-aged.”

Tooru leans against the fridge. “So, you’re saying that if weren’t a middle-aged landlord, you’d give them a chance?”

“You’re insufferable and not making any sense.” She rolls her eyes when he shrugs at her words. “She called to let me know that she’s still looking for someone to rent out her apartment to. Other than me, there’s another person who’s interested. She decided to ring me first.”

Many people claim to have experienced, at some point in their lives, the sensation of time coming to a halt. Many of them are lying, or maybe it just feels different for them. In Tooru’s case, it’s less about time and more about his mind and body’s relation to it. He can count his heartbeats, sense the thrumming of the fridge, and lose himself in the scant sunlight spilling from the windows of the living room, but the seconds ticking by lose their acoustic quality. By shedding their nature, they become heavy, sticking to his extremities like anchors welded into his bones. He cannot bring himself to speak his mind.

What would happen if he did? She might think him condescending, patronizing, another obstacle in her quest for peace. For all he knows, she could leave for good and he’s not so sure he can follow this time.

“Are you leaving because of me?” His tongue loosens without him noticing. Her hands halt where they’re slinging her backpack over her shoulder, “I know I shouldn’t presume to be at the center of your decision but I can’t help thinking that maybe I’m not far off the truth.”

She doesn’t avert her eyes. “You’re part of the reason.”

How uncomfortable must he make her for her to go as far as to choose isolation in place of the company of those she cares about? Does she not know they are grateful and enjoy being around her? Does she not care that her abrupt departure would only drill a hole into their wounded friendship? But who is he to speak of healthy friendships and the preservation of such bonds? Did he not, some time ago, all but eviscerate his friendship with Iwaizumi? Oikawa Tooru should know his place.

Still, he can’t help but approach her. Somewhat trembling, he secures a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand cradles the side of her head, the heat from her skin seeping into his.

“You don’t have to leave your friends behind.” It’s almost a plea.

“Everyone leaves everyone behind at some point. It’s just a matter of time, seconds you have to spend dreading the very moment it happens. The only difference is that I have no such fear.” She pulls away and frowns. “That look of shock on your face. It’s hypocritical.”

Tooru can just stand there, hand burning as if electrocuted, and watch as she scans the surfaces of his place for any items she might have forgotten. He is no more than a bystander in his apartment.

“Now that we’re finished with the project… after you leave,” He can tell she’s stopped looking from the way her head isn’t moving from side to side as usual, “Are you never going to speak to me again?”

Taking one last look around the kitchen, she says, “Improbable. Kenma and Suna still want me to join you guys. Ayame too.”

“But there will always be an excuse to use.”

And then she sighs. Knowing she’s about to abandon her already defective filter, Tooru preps himself for all the truths he’s about to have hurled at him.

“I don’t know why you want me around all of a sudden. Why you’re being decent to me? What I’m feeling right as I’m telling you this? I don’t know that either. I’m not saying this to be edgy or anything.” Her shoulders drop. It’s almost like she’s frustrated with herself, with him, with just about everything that has led to her having to explain something that in her head doesn’t need to be out in the world. “It’s been a long time since I’ve cared to examine what happens to me, with me. The reasons why they happen, elude me. Sometimes I wonder why I run away, but I always seem to forget.”  

Speechless, Tooru stands with his hands planted on the counter for support.

“Or something like that.” She says, and when he doesn’t make a sound, “You’ll see me, Oikawa.”

  It’s in the early hours of the morning that Tooru, after hours spent with fingers hovering over the number, decides to rip off the bandage and make the much-dreaded call. If he hadn’t lashed out at his closest friend, the only thing he would have to fear is a fit of rage on the other end, to which he would respond with teasing, wheezing laughter, or an immediate thought born of pure 3 AM mind-fuckery. Now, he’s not so certain.

“Who is it?”

Tooru’s blood freezes. How he wishes he had pondered this call a little longer.

“Iwa-chan,” He tries the usual teasing tone, but it comes out dejected, “Do you really want to help me?”

Iwaizumi groans into the phone, “It’s 3 AM, you bastard. The fuck I wa-

“Y/n,” Tooru cuts the case, “Do you still see her as a little sister?”

There is a moment of silence, not enough to have Tooru ask if the man is still there, but it has sweat gathering at the creases of his palm.  

“How is she?”

Tooru sighs, throws off the blanket, and sits at the edge of the bed. “She’s hurt.”  

“What’s wrong with her?” This time he can hear the notes of urgency in his friend’s voice come to life. “Did-

Before he can accuse Tooru of a crime, the latter states the purpose of the call. “I was just thinking maybe you could reach out to her first, reconnect and-

“Are you fucking serious?”

This time, Tooru gets a little pissed, glaring ahead and out the window, where the city is in full view.

“Yes, actually,” He enunciates, “I am.”

“Well, you’re a fucking idiot too, then.” Comes Iwaizumi’s bite, “You want me to call her or something? And remind her of how we always roped her in humiliating shit that you orchestrated?”

She doesn’t hate you, is what Tooru wants to say. But if he were to, he’s not sure he’ll be able to hold back the sobs clogging his throat. Iwaizumi, to his credit, doesn’t bark out a second reminder. Not immediately, anyway.

“I’m not calling her. It’s a good thing she left. I hope she never sees the likes of us again.” Then, venomously, “I guess it’s too late to hope for that.”  

Yeah, you’re right.

  Suna Rintaro is late to many things. In high school, he would take his sweet time walking there, his surroundings so sharp he just couldn’t be bothered to give up the blaring of car honks, the giggles of toddlers who couldn’t wait to meet their kindergarten buddies, the wind stealing touches at the leaves, the water rushing down the drain, the smell of freshly baked jam-filled buns, or the sound of his shoes chafing against the pavement, for the dullness of morning classes. As an adult, he is no different. Lectures come second, and sometimes sex does too. He is late to countless things. But he is never late for her.

He remembers that one time he was over a half hour late to some restaurant their group was set to dine at, and the look of relief on her face when he ran towards the table, taking a seat beside her, was enough to make his lips tip at the corners. Though he hasn’t been late since the temptation is real.

Even now, as they sit opposite each other at KFC, far enough from the main road not to be distinguished or overheard (not that the fogged-up glass would allow that), savoring the amplification of silence in the night, he is tempted by something he can’t put his finger on. It’s been like this ever since he picked her up. At first, he thought she would perk up once they plundered the pastry shelves and kitchen at KFC. Yet she remains resolute in her quietude.

Rin takes a bite out of his jam-filled bun, and says, “So, what’s up?”

Hands buried in the pockets of her coat, Y/n leans back on the couch.

“Just assignments. Keep piling up like haystacks.” She says, clearing a path on the fogged-up window. “This weather sucks.”

Her pitiful attempt at evading his question is almost endearing. She’s so bad at it that Rin can’t bring himself to be sarcastic.

“Look, if you don’t wanna tell me… that’s fine.” He reassures her and before he can scarf down the remainder of the bun, he says, “No reason to lie.”

His words lift the burden of having to open up and leave her feeling just a little more at ease around him. This doesn’t mean she fails to realize the importance of asking him the same question he had aimed at her. It’s normal to inquire about the lives of those close to you. It isn’t a crime. So why does it seem like theft, like some kind of extortion? Whenever she’s the one asking the questions, it is as though she is stripping people bare, removing every last piece of their dignity before flaying them down the final strip of skin. It is grotesque, disconcerting. Rin calls her his favorite girl, his best friend. It doesn’t make her less of a thief.

“What about you?” She asks, hand falling to her lap.

Rin licks the jam at the corner of his mouth.

“There must be things I want to talk about. But I can scarcely recall them. I’d much rather be present.” His gaze pierces her through. “Look forward to the next moment and move on.”

At this moment, Y/n is the one being disrobed. It may look like harmless staring, just a friend conversing with another, but the truth of it is that Suna Rintaro wishes he had sat by her side, trapped her between his body and the wall in a way she wouldn’t notice. He wishes he were fiddling with the edge of her almond brown corduroy skirt that she he beneath that thick umber coat he’d gifted her three years ago against her expressed wishes. That their feet were knocking against one another now and again.

She gives no indication of having picked up on his ‘lecherous’ behavior. All she knows is that her body burns yet feels like ice. Perhaps she’s coming down with a cold?

In a trice, she’s leaning forward and dipping a fry in the sweet and sour sauce.  

“You know how Hans and Gretel left behind breadcrumbs to find their way back home?” She asks, and Rin leans forward as he nods. “Yeah, I did my best to make sure this wasn’t the case.”

He squints. “You seem disappointed.”

“It seems I’ve left enough for my home to find me.” Y/n sighs. “Or for my sleep to find its way back.”

She shivers all over when fingers come to rest on her face, inching away in just a matter of seconds.

“Just this.” Rin clarifies, showing her the fallen eyelash. She rubs at her cheek, barely meeting his expectant look, “Aren’t you going to wish?”

Not thinking twice, she blows on it. He does the same. This back and forth only last for a few seconds, after which they pick a finger. The victorious digit is the forefinger, which soon presses on her jugular. It catches her off guard nonetheless. She feels utterly idiotic for freezing up at the barest touch of Suna Rintaro. He’s the same boy who walked directly behind her to prevent others from seeing her blood-soaked shorts. Every now and then, when they’d go to some sad high-school-runt summer party, he would joke that he’d be her boyfriend just to fend off the vultures that threatened to steal her. He even knew her bra size. His touch shouldn’t be prompting an increase in blood pressure. Yet here she is, hands accumulating sweat like there’s a drought, blood rushing to her cheeks and neck, and the itch at her fingertips to scrape them raw.

You may be thinking it affects Rin less than it does her. Or you might be a person of culture and instantly envision his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with each gulp, the air leaving his lungs slowly because that’s how hard he’s trying to act nonchalant, and the shivers marching up and down his body like an army of rogue neurons, shivers only the heat of her skin can provoke.  

“So,” He begins again, bringing his hand to his plate like it’s nothing, “Is it home?”

Y/n places her hand on the glass, looking beyond the condensation. “Who knows?”

For a few moments, during which she does nothing but occasionally munch on fries and sip on her warm cocoa drink, she thinks this is how it’s going to go. They’re going to sit in silence until Rin gets restless and asks to call it a day (now nearing night). This way, she’s going to brand herself in Rin’s memory as a boring bitch. She probably is. Probably not. Definition varies.

When the thoughts get too much, she decides to glance his way only to choke on a snort.

“What?” The food in his mouth distorts his words. “What? Why are you snorting?”

She bites back another snort, and fails, “It’s just you have this way of munching on food. Like your cheeks puff out like round little globes. It’s comical. Like a cartoon.”

“Not the girl who licks her fingers talking.” He shoots, his oral cavity about to burst at the seams.

Y/n’s eyes widen as the words leave his mouth.

“Are you ever going to let it go?”

“Never.”

“Oh, my fucking-

Rin pretends to suck on his fingertips one by one. “The way you licked them back when we first-  

“I thought nobody could see me.” She slaps her hands on her face to bury the embarrassment. “Fucking hell.”

“Well, I’m glad I did.”

Behind her palms, her eyes widen. Rin can pin down the moment her breath gets glued to the inside of her mouth. He waits for her hands to flop back to her lap. Better yet, why not on the table where he can admire them, reach for them?

“It had been a bad day.” He goes on, the edge of his mouth tilting when he sees her index and middle fingers part. “You made it less so.”

The statement puzzles her. Their first time having a conversation had been a tomfoolery of awkwardness. Her convo skills have always been cloddish and nothing short of embarrassing. True, it had worked out but it doesn’t make the idea of her improving his mood any more plausible.

Not wanting to disrupt the flow of the dialog, Y/n allows her face to breathe, flushed as it is, and grabs a fry which she then dips in garlic sauce.

“Did granny scold you?” She asks half-jokingly.

“Something along those lines.” He mirrors her movements without noticing, eyes stalking her hand as it curls around the cup. “I was just… happy to finally meet you. The girl who never said hi. The best thing Kuroo has ever done is bringing you into my life.”

Y/n chugs down the rest of her drink. “I remember avoiding you like the plague at first.”

He’s cautious enough to set down the cup before acknowledging the ‘shameful’ truth.

“Understandable. With my fuckboy reputation and all.”

“Not that.” She wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. “I knew you wouldn’t be attracted to me. Or want to have sex with me.”

When Rin invited her to go out, he didn’t do it with the anticipation of such a revelation. From the night they’d first spoken up until this very moment, he had been suspicious about the authenticity of her nonchalance regarding the subject of how attractive she believed herself to be in the eyes of others. He knows people can be mean to others, even if they don’t know them. Especially if they don’t know them. Maybe it affects her more than he realized. That pissed him off.

It's senior year, and he’s just finished hooking with Hanae, a girl in his year who already had a boyfriend. Rin knows that, of course. He doesn’t care. They were fuckbuddies weeks before she found herself a very hot boy to keep around just enough to satiate her desire for romance, something Rin can’t give a fuck about. She came over, they fucked, and now he lay on top of the ruffled sheets damp with sweat, scrolling through his album. In truth, he’s just going through all the pics and funny videos Y/n has sent him.

She loves everything aesthetic. She’s capable of putting together different pictures to convey an emotion. Sometimes what he feels is drastically unlike hers, but there are also days when it seems as though he can tap on the picture on his screen and leap through time and space. Just to find himself still in bed, shirtless and sporting only a pair of midnight blue jogging shorts.

Out of nowhere, Hanae snatches his phone away. It shocks him, but he does no more than glare and demands that she stop fucking around. It’s evening and he has no time for her theatrics.

“No way,” She snickers, thumb scrolling down. He lunges for her, but she literally twirls away before he can yank her by the arm. “I have to know what has you so distracted that you can’t even listen to what I’m saying.” Her face falls, a sneer replacing her smirk, “What’s this?”

Rin grabs her by the wrist with such strength that she drops her phone. It lands on his right hand.

“None of your business.” He says, releasing her.

He sits at the edge of his bed, almost flopping back on his bed. Practice and sex have worn him out, especially since he partakes in both more or less every day. Apparently, his words did not suffice since she feels entitled to try to repeat the same mistake.

“Who is that,” She asks, making grabby hands at his phone. “It’s not a model so who is that? Tell me.”

Rin doesn’t even bother to look up at her. “My tutor.”

“You don’t have a tutor.”

“Is that so?” He drawls.

Hanae is red in the face. He’s impressed by the fact that she hasn’t broken out in boils yet.

“Yes, I know you don’t. So, who is that? Are you fucking her, too?” At the end of the last sentence, she stomps her food like a child. Rin decides not to entertain her, but that only serves to spur her further into her monologue of accusations, “You wouldn’t touch someone who looks like they’ve been run over by a truck right? Maybe you can’t tell but her nose is crooked and she-

“Your boyfriend wasn’t nearly as noisy or nosy after I railed him for two hours.”

That brings her rambling to an end. Rin’s hands are planted firmly on the mattress. He tilts his head just for her to be able to see how disinterested he is in anything she has to say.  

“Get the fuck out.” He drawls.

The girl leaves as if in a daze. Rin waits for the dramatic door slam before he can sigh and fall back on the bed.

As if to make the memory dissolve, Rin shakes his head. Desperate to do something other than overthinking the ‘whats’ and ‘whys’, he begins to roll up his napkin.

“Then, why were you afraid?”

Y/n considers lying to him, to pass it off as a tasteless, self-deprecating joke. But he would just tell her not to lie to him. He’s intelligent like that.

“You reminded me of someone.” She breathes out a last. “You looked like someone everyone liked. You were charming, talented, and attractive. I guess I was scared of you finding me… unpleasant. Because then the rest of them would too.”  Her chuckle redirects his focus back to her face, the napkin now long forgotten beside the red tray. “Also, you just have these really piercing eyes. Like those of a lynx. And well it was a movie night I guess but I felt you looking at me-

“Yeah, and you kept looking away.”

Y/n supports her cheek on her right hand.

“And I kept looking away.” She repeats. “I thought you were appraising me, judging how much I was worth. If I deserved to be there.”

Rin thinks carefully about what his next words should be. It doesn’t take him long though, because less than 3 seconds pass before he mimics her position, his right forearm serving as a pillar of balance for his head.  

“I’d seen you before you know.” This is no news to her, but what follows is quite different, “From my balcony. You were alone but you didn’t look lonely.”

“Classic me. Making the best first impressions. Or second ones I guess.” She almost tears a muscle rolling her eyes. Tapping her fingers against her cheekbone, she divulges another unexpected truth, “You also were like completely out of my league. I mean, Chiharu and the rest befriended me. I never would’ve had the gall to reach out to them. They’re the quintessential popular kids, you know. Same with you.”

Rin can’t believe his ears.

“I was high as a kite. Had a hoe phase that has since only slightly gotten milder. And I was failing four classes.” He balls up the napkin and throws it for her to catch, “The only league I was part of was the ligmaballs.”

Y/n dodges the ‘cannonball’ as laughter bubbles out of her chest. When she’s done, and Rin can just barely hold back from pinching her cheeks, she brings her shrimp burger up to her mouth.

“Sometimes I hate that you’re funny.” She says before taking a huge bite out of it.

Juice runs down the side of her mouth, which she licks off at once. Rin can only smile at the turn this day took.

“Yeah? I’m funny, am I?” He says, trapping her puffed-up cheeks between his fingers and pulling until she groans. “Say that again. C’mon.”

Grumbling, she leans backward and her cheek stretches like a mochi. “Stop, it hurts you slut.”

The downpour drowns out her protests. One last pull and he releases her, an action that would have her falling if she were standing. Instead, she brings her cold knuckles to her reddened cheek, all the while scowling at him in a way that makes it obvious that she is putting tremendous effort into the displeased look. Rin is entertained, relishing the theme of this afternoon.

The whole aesthetic was made for those who wished days would turn to nights while the hour merely struck 3 in the afternoon. Trickling down slanted rooftops, trekking in rivulets up windows of cars leaving the storm behind, sliding down the glasses of new customers seeking a warm meal and shelter from the thunderous weather, the rain imparted an aquatic feel to all that it fell upon to bear it. They catch glimpses of people riding home on bikes, the hoods of their vibrant raincoats on the verge of bending the knee to the wind, and of two couples making out in their respective cars. The latter they peer at through the peepholes on the fogged-up window. It seems as if the world is swimming in some undefined emotion. Or perhaps the storm has concentered every emotion felt into a singular, never-seen-before phenomenon that human brains can’t decipher. They are far too busy swimming in it.

It's much like when you’re a kid and you go to the beach and no matter how much time passes, you never want to stop lying afloat. Letting the saltwater carry your body to the mermaids you spend the night listening to from within your shell. That is why they don’t notice how late it’s gotten until the clientele thins for the day and she points it out to him. Rin sighs, regretful that he has to say goodnight, fearful about the number of days that will pass until they next meet.

After 4 hours of relentless violence, the storm has grown as feeble as a wet twig. They step out and begin their walk out of the parking lot.

“I hate that you thought I would find you unattractive.”

He means for her to hear it, and is glad to have her attention on him as she processes what he’s just said. Her eyebrows dive to the point that they meet, such is her befuddlement at the statement. But then the corner of her mouth tilts, as though he’s just said something mildly moronic and amusing.

“What? You’re gonna say you thought I was gorgeous now?” She rolls her eyes, “Please, Rin, you wouldn’t stop looking m-

“And that meant I thought you were ugly?” He shakes his head. “So, you’re telling me if you saw me staring at a girl all night long, you’d think I didn’t want to talk to her?”

To flee the feeling of being put under the microscope, her eyes shift from one object to the next. Cars, bicycles, payphones, shopping carts from the supermarket just next to KFC that edgy teens have abandoned near dumpsters⸺ all so she can avoid having the truth pierced by his eyes. Just like a blood bag, it would spill and the stain would be difficult to wash out.

“No.” She drawls out, “But those girls are-

“That girl,” He holds onto her elbow gently, catching her by surprise nonetheless, “Was you.”

And she looks up at him, eyes sparkling with emotions the decryption of which Rin had yet to master. Perplexity, wonder, astonishment, nervousness, gloom… a bit of everything as he will later learn. The corners of her mouth seem undecided whether to tilt upwards or swoop down. So, to mask the state she’s in, Y/n glances from his fingers wrapped around her arm to his green eyes. It’s a game of back and forth.

“Can I be honest?” He asks.

Y/n almost recoils when his other hand reaches for her jaw. His words come out in a whisper, like the brisk wind from this morning, before the storm took over. What she doesn’t know is that the truth is fighting tooth and nail to come into the moonlight, to envelop them both in the uncertainty of what awaits. Perhaps then she would see into his head, every thought he’s had about her since he set his eyes on her. Every impulse he’s had to fight⸺ stopping himself from planting his mouth on hers during their many tutoring sessions, fingers curling around his phone before he could rub his knuckles against the vein on her neck, holding his breath as she asked him embarrassing questions. Every time he’s succeeded, the only diversion has been to seek attention from people he didn’t like talking with. Because nothing can be ruined that wasn’t desired. And while most desired things could be ruined by lies, they could persevere in secrecy.  

“No more inside looking out.” Says Rin.

“Huh?”

He always looks so bored. Everyone says that he’s been cursed with a face to be kissed and feared, that he smells of cigarettes and weed. But his hold on her, the proximity, and the look of urgency paired up with the smile that’s about to bloom tell a vastly different story.

“Tonight, we don’t think of home. Everything around us? Just pure energy without boundaries. I know how it scares you. But,” His breath is warm, coming out in puffs of steam as the night grows cold, “No inside looking out. All of this, the here and now, is where we need to be.”

As if a thread has snapped within her, she faces him, “The entirety of the cosmos.”

“The multiverse.” He follows.

Y/n is a novice to the art of desiring. She doesn’t know what it means to want the moment, to reach for it in this cosmos, and to never attain it. She has never coveted the ability to live. She has never imagined daring the ambition for expansion through the senses. Tonight, she feels compelled to try.

“A peek into the ‘everything’.” 

[marvelousmatt]

What We Do In The Shadows Made Matt Berry Face One Of His Worst Fears

BY ANTHONY ORLANDO/MAY 4, 2022 11:11 AM EDT

Created by Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement, "What We Do in the Shadows" follows a group of vampires living in modern-day Staten Island, all filmed in a mockumentary style similar to the "The Office" and "Parks and Recreation." The show is filled with many memorable and hilarious characters, such as Nandor the Relentless, Nadja of Antipaxos, and the Dilbert-looking energy vampire, Colin Robinson. However, Matt Berry's character, Laszlo Cravensworth (aka Jack the Ripper/Jackie Daytona), is arguably the best one in the entire show.

This pansexual vampire is known for his distinctive British accent, uncanny wit, and erotic obsessions, which include making a century's worth of porno films and topiary sculptures of ladies' private parts. He's also known to shout "Bat!" before he transforms into a bat and flies away. The character is only elevated by Berry's hilarious and magnetic screen presence, which he's honed thanks to years of comedic acting in shows like "The IT Crowd," "Toast of London," "Year of the Rabbit," and "Garth Marenghi's Darkplace." His exceptional acting also helped him face one of his greatest fears while starring in the show.

What is his biggest fear?

For the show about vampires, werewolves, zombies, and even Babadooks, one of the things that scared Berry the most was just being yanked into the air on wires. In an interview with Vulture, Berry was asked what is was like doing the wirework that makes him fly as a vampire so often in the show. He answered:

"Wirework is terrifying. It's terrifying because I'm afraid of heights, and you have to look like you're not, when you're a vampire. There's no reason why a vampire would be afraid of heights, much like a bird wouldn't be afraid of heights. So that's the veil of acting, because one minute you're standing on the floor and then, within two or three seconds, you're 50 feet in the air."

"In one case, we were next to a building, so you can really feel how high up you are," Berry added, "and then you have to do your lines and look as if everything is completely normal. That was hard for me."

Though he said the experience was difficult, the viewer can't tell he was frightened at all, partially because he turns into a bat  ("Bat!") really fast. But also because he's just a good actor, of course.

This wasn't the only challenge

Filming "Shadows" proved to be a challenge for everyone involved, primarily due to the cast and crew having to do lengthy shoots beginning long before the sun rises. But this is understandable, as a show about vampires should take place in "vampire time." "There's a lot of takes," said Berry. "We shot all the time, it was quite an intense shoot, so that helped for the lack of breaking. You just didn't know your ass from your elbow. You already have jet lag and it's four in the morning."

With such long and early working hours, it's no wonder that Waititi and Berry always fought over getting the best napping spot. "We started scenes at four in the morning, or even later than that — or earlier than that — which was something to get used to, but you get on with it," added Berry. "The hours are a lot different in the U.K. There, you shoot from seven in the morning until seven at night and then everyone goes home."

Despite the trials of making this beloved show, everyone involved seems committed to continuing the series — season 4 is expected to arrive at some point this year.

[brw]

thoughts on the new Wasp issue? The whole thing where they were in a world where hank never existed was pretty interesting or could've been I think & nadia having to become an assassin instead of being able to evade it due to them wanting her to work on her father's research makes sense kind of except that it's weird she didn't try to escape? idk it's not like anyone else broke her out or redeemed her or anything so it's a little weird. The thing with janet I did not like because her wanting to avenge her father's death makes sense & she found a way to do it without becoming the wasp (weird thing to happen in the only solo series she has though) which is realistic but the avengers being "a group of operatives who are specialists in their respective fields" doesn't really capture the magic of how they assembled in the first place to me... also what do you think janet is a specialist in? also what did the hulk specialise in lol? I also don't like ewing's voice for janet.

hi anon!

i think it's a marked improvement from the first two issues but i won't lie, i'm still not convinced. there's two major problems i have with it so far; first of all, it feels incredibly drawn out n poorly paced. we have one issue left and i still feel like the conflict is yet to actually happen in the comic, which is suprising considering how well-paced the rest of ewing's projects are, even just thinking about storm and the brotherhood which came out on the same day but especially compared to ant-man. it's possible the final issue will change my mind, but it so far feels like something that could have been done in two issues and probably would have been better off for it.

second; this isn't a janet book, simple as. it would not surprise me in the slightest if i found out that this was originally a vague plot for nadia, and then ewing awkwardly placed janet in it afterwards when marvel asked him for a sister series to ant-man. janet has not done anything interesting and i have learned literally nothing new of her character so far, except that apparently she is smart enough to sort out the whole alien thing on her own without hank n without being the wasp. i guess.

i guess i'm just missing what made the ant-man series fun. i'm not expecting a clone, but the shifting tones between the classic 60s vibe and more contemporary comics and the sleaziness of early 2000s comics really suited the tone and made me think a lot about how hank and the legacy of ant-man has changed over the years. janet's missing all of that fun vibe, and it just doesn't feel like the kind of homage to janet van dyne and the wasp mantle you would expect from an anniversary issue. it feels like a forgotten arc of the jeremy whitley unstoppable wasp run.

anyway nadia as an assassin was fun, n made sense! her not having someone to look up to and make her inspired to be heroic and becoming a star assassin is a fun beat, it's interesting that without that she never tried to leave but i suppose it makes sense. janet as "the avenger" is interesting, but i'll be honest i'm still waiting on janet to feel like janet. there's no reason why without hank she would stop being fun and flirty and a bit of an adrenaline junkie. like, in avengers origins: ant-man and the wasp she feels like a distinct person, but those traits are still there. i dunno.

anyway i hope the last issue is good, but i really do feel the pacing is off and the characterisation of janet especially feels a bit weird. it's not that he can't write janet; issue one of ant-man jan was great! it's just that it feels like in a need to show janet is mature and an adult he's squeezed a lot of her out n i'm not vibing with it unfortunately :(

(also this might sound awful of me to say but i think janet would have been more likely to become a villain without hank, because it's really on the avengers as a team member where she learns a sense of responsibility and maturity IMO. her father dying gave her a sense of injustice, but if you ask me it's growing as a team where she really grows as a person. before then she's very much so still a privileged upper class girl with an adrenaline problem, and i can't help but think it would be both fun and make sense for her to be a campy fashion themed supervillain. but that's just me)

[vaporousvicariousventi]

Idk bout anybody else but i think the lack of pale posting is threefold.

There are a lot of people in pale, and the narrative attention gets spread out for it, whereas you only really have a handful if not two characters in all of wb series. (The only exception being near the end of worm, but tbh the wards in .... LA? already felt very "Standard Wards" so id think they count.) Whereas your introduced to about 15 distinct personalities early in pale and the number never goes down. This makes it harder for the readers to focus on a certain character as a group, and more importantly there's less development in the characters just because the narrative doesn't have time.

There is fairly vocal pale bashing in the main places where wb stuff are talked about. this is notably different from the world as the otherverse is shared with pact, with most critiques focusing on either plot structures or specifically the characters (which tbh at times is apt.)

For all of the sins that pale has, the one place that it truly shined for me, was it reminded you of the feeling of being a small and having to put up with the world, of being not just weak or helpless or the world being unfair. It evoked the feeling of being a kid and having to step up. In this a lot of the more horrifying elements from pale compared to other wb works were also the most grounded ones. which is harder to rant and rave about then for other characters.

[Mild spoilers, I'm talking theming so you;ve probably seen some spoilers at least vaguely but if not above is the thesis statement.]

Verona and her dad. Avery and her family. Lucy and her community. It feels real and that (is probably also why the rules are comparatively more fast and loose because that's the thematic point, magic being a way out.) is hard to rant and rave about. Taylor shooting a baby is gruesome and iconic. Blake finally having the power of a eldritch power to take action against monsters is cathartic as fuck. The trio slowly coming to their own is comparatively a slower growth with only occasional moments of significant change that aren't a monument of details adding up. Pre Carmine there's exceptions to this, notably with Lucy especially (you'll know when you get to it), but as it goes on our protagonist's growth is less a build up of bad, of stress or of lies but a build up of change, good and bad.

With the protagonists focus on salvaging and advancing what they can while managing the costs being the main plot push. This build in other wb where eventually the protagonist breaks under the strain is different because of it, because what gets built up is the degree of change, the scope, the stakes.

When i finished pale and reread the third chapter I was shocked how much I didn't realize how bad it was for AVL when it started, to the point I was reminded of how I felt when Blake came back to Jacob's Bell and out of the mirrors.

I know I was already sentenced to pale reading a few months ago and not twig so I really shouldnt have this much trouble deciding between them

But the problem is that the story of twig (steampunk heist and crime shenanigans?) seem mostly uninteresting but also the characters (Helen, Jamie, Sy, I think that there are also other lambs but can't say for certain) sound lovely and I would like to get to know them. The plot of pale (magic murder mystery) sounds like it's good and interesting until it's not but I haven't seen a single person post about how much they love and miss any one of those characters (can't even name them here I've seen so little about them) even a little bit so there is not great desire to meet any of them

[the-fulcrum-network]

The Bad Batch: an Excellent, Yet Tragic Portrayal of a Neurodivergent Character

It should be obvious, after reading any of my other blog entries, that I love Star Wars. Not just the movies, but animated series and video games too. However, I tend to ignore series' and games that are geared toward children.

The Bad Batch is the exception to that rule. The animation style is nearly identical to the appearance of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, which was an incredible, heart-wrenchingly mature series that just happened to be animated and originally marketed to kids. The Bad Batch has a tight cast of six characters, all with very distinct designs and personalities, and moves in one clear, easy-to-follow direction. Due to its obvious toy potential, the show was aimed at children in many of its trailers and posters. 

Both children and adults adore the show for the same reasons. A colourful, rambunctious group of brothers (plus one sister) that love each other for their strengths and differences. The Bad Batch puts clones, characters who are often regulated to the background in Star Wars as a whole, front and center. There is a hulking brute of a character aptly named Wrecker who is the most emotionally intelligent out of all of his siblings. A commanding leader who wants nothing more than to keep his family together. A sly, cruel sniper character struggling to decide where his loyalties lie. A young girl, being raised by her older brothers, who is genuinely helpful on missions and highly competent despite her age. A war veteran and amputee who juggles his disaster of a family with the care of a single parent. And finally, a brilliant, neurodivergent man who, despite not being as visibly emotionally responsive as his siblings, loves them unconditionally through his actions. 

That brilliant character was named Tech, and over the first and second seasons of the show, he became a fan favourite. His sarcastic remarks and fascination with the world around him were endlessly entertaining, and the series went out of its way to show he was more than just smart. He was a skilled fighter and technician (mind the pun). There were also various hints of the character being on the autism spectrum, or at least fitting under the neurodivergent label, but they were just that, hints. Little quirks and a collection of personality traits and reactions that anyone who was neurodivergent themselves, or knew someone that was, would be able to identify. 

Then it was officially confirmed, by the character himself. Late in season two of the show, Tech, to comfort his younger sister who had been distressed by his lack of visual response to their friend leaving, said: “I may process moments and thoughts differently, but that does not mean that I feel any less than you.” Then, only moments later, his sister falls into a cave, screaming for help, and without a second of hesitation, Tech jumps right in after her to save her. 

The series mirrors this exact moment again in the season finale, when the team is trying to escape from villains on a cable car, and the car becomes disconnected from the above wire. Tech reconnects the vehicle, saving all of his siblings, but he is left hanging by a wire off of the edge. His added weight is preventing his family from leaving--from making it to safety, and they are out of time. You can see the moment when he calculates the odds of his survival, and with a few parting words, cuts the wire, letting himself fall to his death. 

The show not once but twice disproves the myth of neurodivergent people feeling “less” than those who are neurotypical. In fact--it implies that Tech is much more selfless than some of his other family members. Yet, something about this moment in the finale left a bad taste in my mouth. 

Tech dies only seven episodes after he is officially confirmed to be neurodivergent. He dies leaving behind a girlfriend, and a family that still needs his help in challenges to come. While there is something so heartfelt and compassionate about having a confirmed neurodivergent character make the sacrifice play, the fact that he does die, leaving future and current Star Wars fans without neurodivergent representation, is frustrating. It almost makes it feel like the writers spent so much time building up his character, and his personal struggles only to kill him less than an hour of screen time later. It feels like the show's creators made a character neurodivergent just to say they did, then killed him because they didn't want to write him anymore. Choosing to kill Star War’s first neurodivergent character less than two hours after official confirmation is cruel and senseless, even if his death is a self sacrifice.

[retvenkos]

Grishaverse Deep Dive: The Darkling is a Character that lives in a Society.

((spoilers for ALL of the grishaverse))

Ah, yes, Shadow and Bone season 2 is gearing up, the birds are singing, I have a cup of earl grey tea before me -  it is finally time to sit down to talk about the Darkling, and explain his tenuous relationship with the Grishaverse.

The Darkling is a character greatly contested. When simply looking at his motivations, we see a rift in the fandom. Add in his backstory and it fractures even more. When you pepper in the third ingredient of his relationship with Alina, you get an entire war. The Darkling is a divisive character. He gets under our skin and lingers for days afterwards.

I am going to take you on a deep dive of the Darklings character, and try to tease apart the problems that lie within the creation of his character. Why were so many fans betrayed by his ending? How did he muddle the messages of Shadow and Bone, and why is his ending so complicated that it satisfies very few? Today, we’re going to look at The Problem of the Darking: An Essay in Six Parts.

A little history lesson;

So first, allow me to take you back in time, to 2012, when Shadow and Bone was first released.

Two years prior, The Hunger Games Trilogy had finished coming out and, in a rather stunning turn of events, shifted the popular Y.A. category from the genre of the paranormal romance (thank you, Stephanie Meyer) to the dystopian society. 

Now, this is not to say that there weren’t dystopian stories prior to The Hunger Games, or that there weren’t paranormal romances in the Y.A. genre afterward. Both have survived, but the boom of dystopian stories and the whimper of paranormal romance was definitely felt.

So 2012 hits. In comes Shadow and Bone, in a time where we have some interesting precedents that our Y.A. forefathers created: 

Firstly, let’s talk about themes.

Carried over from both genres, is this idea of duality. There is light and there is dark, and whether or not there is a middle ground is up to the author. As the Y.A. target audience is quite large, there’s a lot to be said for how nuanced this idea can be. In many stories, it’s a nail on the head. In others, the lines are a little more blurred. In most stories, you get some semblance of Good = Light, Bad = Shadow. In the end, the ultimate goal is to embrace one or the other. At the end of the series, we’re either in the midday sun or the midnight darkness. The peak of the story leaves very little middle ground.

Then, brought over from the dystopian genre, we have the idea that The Current Regime is Bad for insidious reasons, and it needs to be torn down and built anew. This is often the main focus of dystopian stories, and our main characters are revolutionaries that see the world in a new, free light.

Finally, a trap of the Y.A. category is it’s simplistic idea of good and bad. Again, we hark back to the vast target age range, and you can see why this would be so prevalent. There is very little by way of morally grey, in the Y.A. category, and if there is moral greyness, it almost always falls into two categories: (1) it is held by the main character alone, and that is why we root for them, or (2) it is martyred and killed. Moral greyness is either the Ushering of a New Era, or The Ideal that Could Not Be. If greyness is to survive, it must exist in the main character who, readers hope, will usher in a new dawn of peace (and light moral greyness) either through their small acts of love (the angel loving the demon) or in large displays of change (the morally grey character rising to be ruler).

These are all themes we expect to be present in Shadow and Bone. And for the most part, they are!

But now let’s talk about character tropes.

Carried over from the paranormal romance, we have the introduction of the “Othered” love interest. This character has a condition that sets him apart from others, and (whether it be vampire, demon, werewolf, etc.) is so prevalent that he cannot fit in. And because of his differences, he has been shunned by Society. This character, notably, is not the “light” or “pure” paranormal figure - he is not the angel - but rather, the demon. The angel would be able to slip into society (presumably because his goodness grants him some kind of godly camouflage). The demon cannot. He doesn’t fit in, and he never can. This creates tension in him, and so he shuns others just as hard as they shun him - he has done so for a very long time until he meets our main character, who gets close to him and breaks down his walls. This character is often the eventual love interest, for reasons that will become apparent later. 

Sometimes carried over from the paranormal romance is the idea that the main character is secretly an “other in hiding” (an angel without her wings, etc.). This creates a bond between the “Othered” love interest and the main character - a bond that can’t be deteriorated once it’s been made, because the main character can’t be un-Othered. They can’t take back the forbidden knowledge they’ve obtained. If this character pops up, the “Othered” love interest is almost always chosen, if he exists.

The dystopian genre has a branching version of this trope, as there is almost always a healthy amount of othering. The main character usually comes from a group of people that is Othered from Society, but our main character is even more unique/different from their “Othered group.” This “specially Othered” character is superpowered in that they can navigate both “Othered” Society and “normal” Society. They can be the go-between.

Sometimes found in the paranormal romance is the “normal” or stereotypical character. This is the average human - the character that doesn’t understand the “Othered” love interest, and wants the main character to go back to the way things were before. This character can sometimes make up the other leg of the love triangle and become a love interest. Other times, it’s a family member or a friend or even an abstract ideal. The point of this character, however, is to show the main character that they can’t go back to the way things were. Too much has happened. Too much has been discovered.

All of this is to say that when Shadow and Bone came out, audiences had expectations with long standing. It is safe and fair to say that the Darkling was set up as a character to be viewed in a certain light, and then the rug was pulled out beneath fans, who had already invested so much in his character.

Shadow and Bone: The characters that Don’t Fit;

So now let’s look at Shadow and Bone in the scope of history and audience expectation. Let’s look at the characters as well as the Grishaverse, in broad terms.

The Darkling is, in the first half of Shadow and Bone, the stereotypical “Othered” love interest. He can summon shadows, which is remarkably different from the other powers of Grisha, and his “forefathers” have done terrible things with this power, making him not only an other in talent but an other in animosity and fear.

In comes Alina, and she is a perfect fit for the main character being an “other in hiding” as well as a “specially Othered” character. She was otkazat’sya before she realized she was Grisha, and she is seen as the go-between for these two different worlds - she can bring them together. Furthermore, she is stronger than your average Grisha - distinct from all others, excepting the Darkling.

Alina is understood by the Darkling. She is discovering parts of herself that she didn’t know she had. This is all decidedly Good, and the romance that is forming is living up to reader expectation.

We also have an interesting occurence of duality. Alina, with her light, is the equal and opposite to the Darkling and his shadow. Together, they have limitless power, a common goal, and perhaps a purifying dynamic as Alina can “save” the Darkling. Her light can banish his shadows. 

History is leading us to believe they are the endgame ship.

This is only inculcated when you have Mal, who is the “normal” character. Through the framing of the story (not seeing Mal, holding on to him only causing Alina to not reach her full potential), we see that the love story with Mal is the Romance That Cannot Be. They are fated to be apart due to the tropes that readers know and understand.

But then the second half of the book kicks in, The Darkling is proven to have been manipulating Alina, things go South, and readers are left unaware of what’s coming next. In this moment, the theme of The Current Regime is Bad slaps readers across the face.

So let’s take a second to look at The Current Regime is Bad, because how the Darkling and his motives exist in that tempest is thought provoking, to say the least.

The Darkling is, decidedly, a part of The Current Regime. He is a general and close to the King, after all. He is a part of this life... and yet he is not. Remember that The Darkling is our “Othered” character. He cannot be a part of The Current Regime because he is shunned by it. And yet, he is tied to it like a prisoner. 

The reader thinks: is the Darkling bad? He is shown to be a part of Society. He wants the war to continue - he doesn’t want to tear down the Fold.

As the reader is grappling with this revelation, we are told (in the same book!) that the Darkling is actually not a part of The Current Regime (which is Bad), but rather, had been working against it. 

Okay.

So now the reader thinks that since Society is Bad, and the Darkling is against it, he and Alina do have a common goal, and his status as a love interest can be saved. He can be redeemed as a character because Alina can purify his methods, then together they can get rid of the current regime, and they can be Others together.

It’s a solid thought process. After all, the “Othered” characters have been consistently good at heart, and Alina can redeem him. We still have a bad guy to take down - and it’s not the Darkling.

But...

Leigh Bardugo decides that is not the story she wants to tell, and she has to pull out some literary gymnastics to give us an explanation. The idea is, no, the Darkling is Bad and his “Othered” status is not relevant because it doesn’t justify his actions. He is a part of a radical portion of The Current Regime and is just as Bad. 

Enter Nikolai Lantsov, who can take over The Current Regime, because as the reader is constantly reminded, Alina no longer wants novelty - she wants normalcy (which is represented by none other than Malyen Oretsev).

So, what does all of this mean? The Darkling decidedly Doesn’t Fit into any of the currently accepted (and expected) tropes of the Y.A. genre. This, on its own, is not inherently Bad or Wrong, but you can see how readers were thrown and consistently, ideas were stretched to fit the simplistic ideas of good and bad that run rampant through the Y.A. category.

The Darkling: What We Left Behind;

We have all heard the critique that the most frustrating thing about the Shadow and Bone Trilogy is how the treatment of Grisha is never fixed. It’s mentioned, but it’s never addressed.

To play the Devil’s Advocate, I am going to tell you all that this problem was never fixed because it was never part of Alina’s Narrative. As I will now attempt to point out, The Darkling is an ill suited antagonist for Alina’s story.

As I like to joke with my friends, the Darkling is an Adult Fantasy character inside of a Y.A. Fantasy story. He cannot be properly served because the story does not fit him, and it doesn’t really try.

Y.A. stories are incredibly focused. There is usually a lot going on in the wider story, but the reader is confined to one point of view and one narrative. This is why the main character is always leading rebellions and fighting in the thick of things. In order to address the problems of the wider narrative, the main character needs to be pretty front and center with the problems.

Alina is at the center of an inner conflict of power vs. normalcy. She is not at the center of the Grisha’s problems. 

Time and again, we see that Alina largely doesn’t care about how terribly Grisha are treated, as a whole. She has moments of clarity where she is angry (notably the scene in Ruin and Rising where the nations’ treatment of Grisha is described in detail), but her remorse doesn’t really extend past sympathy. In the end, she still does nothing to save Grisha.

Alina is a terrible hero when matched to the problems the Darkling is trying to solve. She doesn’t understand their full breadth, having not grown up with them, and she doesn’t want to fix them.

The Problem of The Darkling is that he is a character with problems and motivations that get shrinked and discarded because they do not fit into the Alina Narrative.

Alina’s story is about three things: (1) learning that a lust for power is bad and only corrupts; (2) tearing down the Fold, which is the representation of lusty power; and (3) returning to normalcy. (If you’re wondering why Mal is a rough™ character, it’s because he’s supposed to be the ideal of normalcy, that Alina both wants but can’t have as long as she seeks the amplifiers.) The Grisha don’t factor into that equation.

Alina doesn’t have a solution for giving the Grisha a safe existence where they won’t be sold into slavery, won’t be persecuted by the world, and won’t be forever Othered. She stumbles upon the vague promise of fixing the last of those problems when she runs into Nikolai (purely by chance, or, if you want to stretch it, The Darklings machinations). Furthermore, she doesn’t want to do any of that - she wants normalcy, remember? Her story isn’t going to be saving the Grisha - that’s not what it’s about.

The Darklings entire character motivations focus on all of the plot points that Alina doesn’t hit. He wan’t to make a safe existence for Grisha, he wants Grisha to no longer be persecuted and Othered. How is he going to do it? By ugly means, yes, but he’s going to achieve it nonetheless.

The Darkling has motivations that are not addressed in the Shadow and Bone Trilogy. They aren’t what the story is about, or what the story chooses to focus on. His story is a braided narrative that is too complicated for the simplistic, black and white story that the Shadow and Bone Trilogy is. 

So here’s the problem: the story insists the Darkling is the bad guy, but he can’t possibly be the bad guy if his intentions are Good, and there is no other way. Until Alina finds another way, he is a martyr - he is the Starless Saint. The Saint who was misguided, sure, but the only Saint who tried to solve things.

The Darkling is not fit for Shadow and Bone. His story and what he advocated for isn’t resolved by the end of the trilogy. So when he dies, it feels unearned. It’s tragic - and perhaps there is some beauty in that tragedy, or some lesson to be learned about how you cannot justify evil means for a good end - but it feels undeserved. His problems aren’t addressed. He is defeated, but his cause and his essence aren’t put to sleep.

King of Scars: A Cause Without Its Martyr;

Which leads us to the Nikolai duology.

Like I said - The Darklings’ problems are forgotten in Alina’s narrative. So what happens when we break out of that point of view? After a brief (and iconic) interim with the Crows, we are back in Ravka and the Grisha are still struggling with the problems that Shadow and Bone failed to address. Ravka is still dying, but now that we have gotten rid of a reluctant cast of characters and have made distance from the trope-heavy Shadow and Bone, we are better equipped to save her.

But here’s a question - can we ignore the man who pioneered these problems in favor of a more palatable cast? Can we not address the Darkling while picking up the sword he used?

Leigh Bardugo needs to reclaim the Grisha Problem by stealing it from the Darkling’s grasp. That proves to be difficult, given that we’ve killed him and have given him a tragically beautiful death. Absence has made the heart grow fonder, and in his final moments, the Darkling was not the evil Shadow Summoner but rather Alexander Morozova - the boy within. Readers (even those who didn’t like the Darkling) might be more endeared to him now that everything is said and done.

We need to separate the Darkling from his cause.

Enter the Cult of the Starless Saint and the Condemnation of the Starless.

To remind readers that the Darkling is bad, Leigh Bardugo does a few things. Firstly, she has her characters repeatedly condemn the Darkling. On one hand, it makes sense and feels genuine. On the other hand, it can be a little excessive. Sometimes, the vehemence reads like what it is - Leigh Bardugo is giving us reasons to hate the Darkling again. Add on the fact that Nikolai’s monster is Bad and one of few remnants of the Darkling still surviving, and you get a lot of hate.

Except, ah! The more we talk about the Darkling, the more we are reminded of what he stood for!

So we have to strip him of that - we have to take his legacy and drag it through the mud. Thus, we create The Cult of the Starless Saint. They represent the Darklings legacy and status in history - were his intentions Good Enough to grant him mercy? To give him Sainthood? 

Spoiler alert: They are not. Not as portrayed by the Cult of the Starless Saint.

The Cult is a laughing stock. They don’t have a stance of the Grisha, they’re worship of the Darkling is meant to be seen as mocking Alina’s sacrifice, and the main priest readers interact with is the receiving end of a slew of jokes. They don’t care about anything the Darkling cared for, and they don’t really want to help Grisha. This is done to muddy the waters - if the people who emulate the Darkling are selfish and without cause, well... the Darkling clearly wasn’t Good. They just think his shadow powers were cool and want him to be a Saint. They exist to slander the Darkling.

So now we have separated the Darkling from his cause, and the story continues. The Darkling is Bad. He doesn’t have a legacy. His cause is passed on to others.

But (because we’re Delta airlines and life is a f*cking nightmare) it doesn’t end there. We bring the Darkling back from the dead.

*long sigh*

Resurrection? The Curse of a Second Life;

I have wracked my brain for many an evening, trying to give reason as to why we brought the Darkling back. The obvious answer is for his role at the end of Rule of Wolves - we need him to hold the rift of the Making at the Heart of the World together. However, when Leigh Bardugo introduces real Saints, he’s not needed. Suddenly, we have a slew of characters who could do the same. Furthermore, part of why this rift exists is because the Darkling was brought back. If he is both the cause and the solution, the conflict didn’t need to be there in the first place - especially considering how inconsequential it was to the narrative.

If I had to pin a reason as to why we brought the Darkling back, it was simply to further push the Darkling from his original motivation. He comes back and... doesn’t do much. He doesn’t seem to have the same care for Grisha, he has watered down character traits, and he largely does nothing. The Darkling in the Nikolai Duology is Not The Darkling because he’s a shell of the character he used to be.

Bringing him back from the dead was unsatisfying, and it weakens his original ending. As I have mentioned in other posts, the Darkling coming back cheapens whatever meaning readers gleaned from his ending. The Darkling is resurrected and he doesn’t truly seem to care about anything - which is the direct opposite of what the Darkling has been shown to be.

The Darkling has been bastardized in any appearance he’s made after The Demon in the Wood, and ultimately, it leads to a rather anticlimactic end for such a distinctive, hallmark character.

But let’s really quick establish why the sacrifice the Darkling makes at the end of this book is unfulfilling.

Because, in the final moments of Rule of Wolves, the Darkling gets his moment of penance and sacrifice - he chooses to hold the rift. It’s said he will have to hold it for eternity. You would thing that this would leave an impact! 

However, as is, this ending leaves much to be desired for a few reasons:

The Darkling has been so far removed from his character, that when he states, “Everything I did, I did for Ravka,” it feels... incorrect? It sounds like the hollow, misguided claims of a tyrant king, because for an entire Duology, the Darkling has been bastardized and has been the cause of a blight that is killing Ravka. His presence is actively killing the country he claims to serve, and as for actions, he has done very little for Ravka, and nothing for the Grisha. The last time he did anything of substance was before Six of Crows!

None of the characters present for his sacrifice have any sympathy for the Darkling. The Darkling chooses to sacrifice himself, and we get no emotional closure. Alina isn’t there to whisper his name and mourn him, and while Zoya gets the glimmer of weak pity, we have much reason to believe that Zoya mostly feels disenchanted because he will be praised as a martyr and not hated as the evil man she knew him to be (more on that here). There isn’t sympathy so much as there is bitterness and the semblance of the remnants of tattered respect shining in the dim light.

The final chapter of Rule of Wolves tells us that it’s all going to be made inconsequential in the coming books, when they are going to replace the Darkling with something else. The Darkling won’t even get his full sacrifice, because he is undeserving of a redemptive act of selflessness.

So now, where do we leave the Darkling? For two books, we have separated him from his initial cause, watered down his character and motivations, and given him ends that are largely unsatisfying. 

We’ve actually started to fix the Grisha problem, and there’s something interesting to be said in that it’s fixed by Zoya Nazyalensky, who goes up through the chain of command in a very similar fashion as to how the Darkling planned. She was a General, and then she became Queen of Ravka - the acting monarch, no less - with a beloved public figure on her arm (which, in the Darkling’s case,  would have been Alina).

So I am left to wonder - was the lesson, then, indeed, that you cannot justify evil means for a good end? Was the moral of the Darkling all along about how you must be good throughout - with good acts and good intentions - in order to make change and be revered for it? If so, why did Leigh Bardugo slander the Darkling retroactively, the way she did?

If the problem was his actions and not his intentions, why insist that his intentions were devoid of meaning, as well?

Aleksander Morozova: What We Buried;

Now, you all knew I was going to get here eventually, and if you’ve made it, congrats. We are now talking about the emotion behind the deed, the man behind the monster, the boy swallowed by the shadows.

I believe it is pivotal to understand that Leigh Bardugo has always wanted us to struggle with our feelings over the Darkling. She wanted a character that you could sympathize with, she wanted a character with humanity, and she wanted a reason for his villainy. I think that Shadow and Bone, for all of its failings, gave us that. There’s a reason why there is such a big divide over the Darkling in the original trilogy. He was a compelling character! Somewhere along the way, Leigh Bardugo lost that nuance of her own character. At some point, she resorted to stripping him of his meaning and slandering his image. 

Perhaps I am playing the Devil’s Advocate again, but I believe this was intentionally done.

Because one has to ask - why slander the Darkling? A large portion of the fanbase already hates him, so cheapening his character is doing nothing for them other than giving them sweet vindication, which is unnecessary and only disenchants the other half of your audience. There has to be some deeper reasoning. Leigh Bardugo wanted this character to be sympathetic, so why, now, does she want him to be two-dimensional?

Once more, I am asking you to think back to the original trilogy. What was the main moral? That power, no matter how good-intentioned the pursuit of it is, corrupts. What is the Darklings purpose of coming back again if not to simply have power? He certainly shows no other motive than lusty greed, after being resurrected.

And even if we ignore his lust for power, as he so willingly gives it up to Zoya Nazyalensky in the end of Rule of Wolves, we have two other corrupting forces that could account for the degradation of his character - time, and  death.

We know the Darkling to have lived for eons, and he would have continued to live on for an eternity more. There is nothing like time to truly corrupt a character’s vision, and there is nothing like death and resurrection to husk a character.

In fact, if Mal’s character did anything of importance when it comes to effecting the Darkling, it lies in the epilogue of Ruin and Rising, where it is stated that “the boy and the girl had both known loss.” Mal’s loss is equated to Alina being stripped of her power - that is the power of having died, and being forcefully brought back to life. That is a vague basis for which we readers can compare what it must have been like for the Darkling to come back - even if he is so desensitized to feeling, that he doesn’t remark on it himself.

But let’s keep chugging on.

When we first met the Darkling in 2012 Shadow and Bone, he was unfeeling. He was cold and harsh. There was something beneath the surface, yes, but there were thick sheets of ice in the way. You had to mine for it. Time had already warped the actions of his intentions. It’s expected that time would continue to do its damage, and when he is revived in King of Scars, his intentions are warped as well. He is nothing of the person he used to be other than memories and power. That is why, at the end of Rule of Wolves, when he states that he did everything for Ravka, it feels hollow - that was once true, but the Darkling has even lost that. He has the vague impression of it, but nothing you can sink your teeth into.

I think, had this idea been looked at in deeper depth, it would have been a far more compelling story. Had Rule of Wolves really dedicated itself to showing the Darkling’s conflict of his current apathy, and the knowledge that there was once a time he possessed meaning, we could have found the marrow of his arc. If the book had made an allusion to this concept, his character would have been more satisfying. But as it stands, the Darkling is just degraded in the later books, and unless you really search for meaning, there isn’t any.

And perhaps, if the Darkling had been a different character - a character who, at his core, was more unfeeling - the way we left him would feel okay.

But while The Darkling was harsh and cruel, Aleksander Morozova wasn’t, and that’s what has us all hung up on his character.

If you haven’t read The Demon in the Wood for whatever reason, do yourself a favor and read that instead of revisiting the show’s version of his villain origin story. The show made the Darkling far less compelling by showing him as the grief stricken Black Heretic, rather than the boy within. When we meet Aleksander, he is a boy who is afraid of the world, who has never belonged in it or with others, and who is, ultimately, afraid of himself. With his mother, Baghra, he has taken on a thousand names and traveled a thousand places, and all the while, he is afraid of getting too close to others because he is an amplifier and he knows that if any Grisha were to find out, they would kill him for his power.

Thus, there is so much nuance to his relationship with the Grisha. He is one of them, but he is not. To hark back to our history lesson, he is the exact opposite of the “specially Othered” character that is so often given to protagonists. Instead of acting as a go-between, he is the one person that everyone - Grisha and otkazat’sya - can come together to kill.

And as a little boy, he knows that. He knows he has to stay in the shadows, and yet, he is deathly afraid of the dark - afraid of that which sets him apart, and that which he cannot escape.

This is poignant because at the root of every great character is a singular, vulnerable emotion, and for the Darkling, it is fear. And most importantly, fear of the shadows.

When he meets Alina, we truly see the strength of their duality. We truly see why he was so drawn to Alina - why he could so easily fall in love with her, despite the years and despite the tide, and despite his fear of letting others in. She is his equal and opposite - with her, there are no shadows. There is no fear. The fact that he lets Alina use him as an amplifier is so telling of his deep feelings for Alina.

Where each reader draws the line between their dynamic - either him truly loving Alina, or him simply loving and obsessing over the idea of her - is for the individual to decide. The wonderful thing about the Darkling in his current state in the original Shadow and Bone Trilogy is that he still has good intentions within him, no matter how corrupted by his evil actions. Whether or not they truly could have been is up to each person because the question over whether or not Alina could “purify” the Darkling was never deeply explored. We will never know if she could save him, or if it would have destroyed her in the end. Whether or not you want her to try is personal preference.

Again, Alina didn’t want to fully commit to that act, and so we readers will never truly know. Luckily, fanfiction exists.

But, I didn’t name this section “what we buried” for nothing, and I think it’s important to note that even in the beginning of The Demon in the Wood, the Darkling was already on his way toward a darker, harsher existence.

Baghra, from presumably the moment he was born, groomed the Darkling to be a certain way - the same way as her, a survivor with little hope, living for the sake of living and fighting for the sake of a meal. She had no plans to save the world - it was only after the Darkling had a run in with the possibility of death that he unearthed a deep desire within him - the desire to save the Grisha. Before that, it was buried.

Before that, the Darklings' desires were buried beneath his mother’s words and buried beneath the dirt that settled over his heart like a shallow grave, because his connection to others was buried as well. Baghra did that, and whether or not she was misguided or if she was the smarter of the two is an essay better tackled by looking at her, specifically, which we won’t do here.

As we’re reaching the end, I feel like I have earned the right to be cliche and quote the Darkling’s thoughts from when he was still a boy, but already a shadow. In The Demon in the Wood, he thinks:

“My father is dust. You all are.”

At such a young age, the Darkling has already lost his grip. Already, he knew he would outlive and outlast anyone, and this heavy knowledge was already piling up, and he was slowly being buried alive in his own infinence.

It was only ever inevitable that his story would end like this - with a detached man who was once a hopeful boy, but could no longer recall what such confidence tasted like - so perhaps the tragic beauty in the end of Ruin and Rising was not that he died, it was that he wasn’t given an end.

— Special kudos to @onceupon-a-decembr​ who let me scream about this with her, and another kudos to @musicallisto​ who introduced me to a book series that I will never stop screaming about. Ever.

— tagging: @maybanksslut, @musicallisto, @catsbooksandmusic, @thefifthweasley, @thegirlwhocriedwerewolf, @amirahiddleston, @lachichapequena, @mrs-brekker15, @amortensie // add yourself to the taglist here!

[meirmakesstuff]

1/2 Hi Meir! I saw your answer on WWC, and since you mentioned you're professionals, I figured I'd ask directly: I'm writing a second world fantasy with a jewish coded people. I want to be clear in the coding but avoid the "if there's no egypt, how can there be passover?" so I called them Canaanites. I thought I was being clever by hinting in the naming that the whole region does exist, but I've since read that it might've been a slur in fact? Do you have any advice on this?

2/2 I did consider calling the group in question Jewish, but aside from how deeply Judaism is connected to the history of the Israelites, I haven't used any present-day real-world names for any other group, (I did use some historic names like Nubia). I feel like calling only one group of people by their currently used name would be othering rather than inclusive? Or am I overthinking this?

Okay so I want to start out with some disclaimers, first that although WWC recently reblogged an addition of mine to one of their posts, I am not affiliated with @writingwithcolor​, and second that the nature of trying to answer a question like this is “two Jews, three opinions,” so what I have to say about this is my own opinion(s) only. Last disclaimer: this is a hard question to address, so this answer is going to be long. Buckle up.

First, I would say that you’re right to not label the group in question “Jewish” (I’ll get to the exception eventually), and you’re also right in realizing that you should not call them “Canaanites.” In Jewish scripture, Canaanites are the people we fought against, not ourselves, so that wouldn’t feel like representation but like assigning our identity to someone else, which is a particular kind of historical violence Jews continue to experience today. I’ll get back to the specific question of naming in a moment, but because this is my blog and not WWC, and you asked me to speak to this as an educator, we’re going to take a detour into Jewish history and literary structure before we get back to the question you actually asked.

To my mind there are three main ways to have Jews in second-world fantasy and they are:

People who practice in ways similar to modern real-world Jews, despite having developed in a different universe,

People who practice in ways similar to ancient Hebrews, because the things that changed us to modern Jewish practice didn’t occur, and

People who practice in a way that shows how your world would influence the development of a people who started out practicing like ancient Hebrews and have developed according to the world they’re in. 

The first one is what we see in @shiraglassman​‘s Mangoverse series: there is no Egypt yet her characters hold a seder; the country coded Persian seems to bear no relation to their observance of Purim, and there is no indication of exile or diaspora in the fact that Jews exist in multiple countries and cultures, and speak multiple languages including Yiddish, a language that developed through a mixture of Hebrew and German. Her characters’ observance lines up approximately with contemporary Reform Jewish expectations, without the indication of there ever having been a different practice to branch off from. She ignores the entire question of how Jews in her universe became what they are, and her books are lyrical and sweet and allow us to imagine the confidence that could belong to a Jewish people who weren’t always afraid.

Shira is able to pull this off, frankly, because her books are not lore-heavy. I say this without disrespect--Shira often refers to them as “fluffy”--but because the deeper you get into the background of your world and its development, the trickier this is going to be to justify, unless you’re just going to just parallel every historical development in Jewish History, including exile and diaspora across the various nations of your world, including occasional near-equal treatment and frequent persecution, infused with a longing for a homeland lost, or a homeland recently re-established in the absolutely most disappointing of ways.

Without that loss of homeland or a Mangoverse-style handwaving, we have the second and third options. In the second option, you could show your Jewish-coded culture having never been exiled from its homeland, living divided into tribes each with their own territory, still practicing animal, grain, and oil sacrifice at a single central Temple at the center of their nation, overseen by a tribe that lacks territory of their own and being supported by the sacrifices offered by the populace.

If you’re going to do that, research it very carefully. A lot of information about this period is drawn from scriptural and post-scriptural sources or from archaeological record, but there’s also a lot of Christian nonsense out there assigning weird meanings and motivations to it, because the Christian Bible takes place during this period and they chose to cast our practices from this time as evil and corrupt in order to magnify the goodness of their main character. In any portrayal of a Jewish-coded people it’s important to avoid making them corrupt, greedy, bigoted, bloodthirsty, or stubbornly unwilling to see some kind of greater or kinder truth about the world, but especially if you go with this version. 

The last option, my favorite but possibly the hardest to do, is to imagine how the people in the second option would develop given the influences of the world they’re in. Do you know why Chanukah is referred to as a “minor” holiday? The major holidays are the ones for which the Torah specifies that we “do not work:” Rosh Hashannah, Yom Kippur, and the pilgrimage holidays of Sukkot, Passover, and Shavuot. Chanukah developed as a holiday because the central temple, the one we made those pilgrimages to, was desecrated by the invading Assyrian Greeks and we drove them out and were able to re-establish the temple. That time. Eventually, the Temple was razed and we were scattered across the Roman Empire, developing the distinct Jewish cultures we see today. The Greeks and Romans aren’t a semi-mythologized ancient people, the way the Canaanites have been (though there’s increasing amounts of archaeology shedding light on what they actually might have been like), we have historical records about them, from them. The majority of modern Jewish practice developed from the ruins of our ancient practices later than the first century CE. In the timeline of Jewish identity, that’s modern.

The rabbinic period and the Temple period overlap somewhat, but we’re not getting into a full-scale history lesson here. Suffice it to say that it was following the loss of the sacrificial system at the central Temple that Judaism coalesced an identity around verbal prayer services offered at the times of day when we would previously have offered sacrifices, led each community by its own learned individual who became known as a rabbi. We continued to develop in relationship with the rest of the world, making steps toward gender equality in the 1970s and LGBT equality in the 2000s, shifting the meaning of holidays like Tu Bishvat to address climate change, debating rulings on whether one may drive a car on Shabbat for the sake of being with one’s community, and then pivoting to holding prayer services daily via Zoom.

The history of the Jews is the history of the world.  Our iconic Kol Nidrei prayer, the centerpiece of the holiest day of the year, that reduces us to tears every year at its first words, was composed in response to the Spanish Inquisition. The two commentators who inform our understanding of scripture--the ones we couldn’t discuss Torah without referencing even if we tried--wrote in the 11th and 12th centuries in France and Spain/Egypt. Jewish theology and practice schismed into Orthodox and Reform (and later many others) because that’s the kind of discussion people were into in the 19th century. Sephardim light Chanukah candles in an outdoor lamp while Ashkenazim light Chanukah candles in an indoor candelabrum because Sephardim developed their traditions in the Middle East and North Africa and the Ashkenazim developed our traditions in freezing Europe. There are works currently becoming codified into liturgy whose writers died in 2000 and 2011. 

So what are the historical events that would change how your Jewish-coded culture practices, if they don’t involve loss of homeland and cultural unity? What major events have affected your world? If there was an exile that precipitated an abandonment of the sacrificial system, was there a return to their land, or are they still scattered? Priority one for us historically has been maintaining our identity and priority two maintaining our practices, so what have they had to shift or create in order to keep being a distinct group? Is there a major worldwide event in your world? If so, how did this people cope?

If you do go this route, be careful not to fall into tropes of modern or historical antisemitism: don’t have your culture adopt a worldview that has their deity split into mlutiple identities (especially not three). Don’t have an oppressive government that doesn’t represent its people rise up to oppress outsiders within its borders (this is not the first time this has occurred in reality, but because the outside world reacts differently to this political phenomenon when it’s us than when it’s anyone else, it’s a portrayal that makes real-life Jews more vulnerable). And don’t portray the people as having developed into a dark and mysterious cult of ugly, law-citing men and beautiful tearstreaked women, but it doesn’t sound as if you were planning to go there.

So with all that said, it’s time to get back to the question of names. All the above information builds to this: how you name this culture depends on how you’ve handled their practice and identity. 

Part of why Shira Glassman’s handwaving of the question of how modern Jewish practice ended up in Perach works is that she never gives a name to the religion of her characters. Instead, she names the regions they come from. Perach, in particular, the country where most of the action takes place, translates to “Flower.” In this case, her Jewish-coded characters who come from Perach are Perachis, and characters from other places who are also Jewish are described as “they worship as Perachis do despite their different language” or something along those lines (forgive me, Shira, for half-remembering).

So that’s method one: find an attribute of your country that you’d like to highlight, translate it into actual Hebrew, and use that as your name.

Method two is the opposite: find a name that’s been used to identify our people or places (we’ve had a bunch), find out what it means or might mean in English, and then jiggle that around until it sounds right for your setting. You could end up with the nation of the Godfighters, or Children of Praise, The Wanderers (if they’re not localized in a homeland), The Passed-Over, Those From Across The River, or perhaps the people of the City of Peace.

Last, and possibly easiest, pick a physical attribute of their territory and just call them that in English. Are they from a mountainous region? Now they’re the Mountain People. Does their land have a big magical crater in the middle? Craterfolk. Ethereal floating forests of twinkling lights? It’s your world.

The second option is the only one that uses the name to overtly establish Jewish coding. The first option is something Jews might pick up on, especially if they speak Hebrew, but non-Jews would miss. The third avoids the question and puts the weight of conveying that you’re trying to code them as Jewish on their habits and actions.

There’s one other option that can work in certain types of second-world fantasy, and that’s a world that has developed from real-world individuals who went through some kind of portal. That seems to me the only situation in which using a real-world name like Jews, Hebrews, or Israelites would make sense. Jim Butcher does this with the Romans in the Codex Alera series, and Katharine Kerr does it with Celts in the Deverry cycle. That kind of thing has to be baked into the world-building, though, so it probably doesn’t help with this particular situation. 

This is a roundabout route to what I imagine you were hoping would be an easier answer. The tension you identified about how to incorporate Jewishness into a world that doesn’t have the same history is real, and was the topic of a discussion I recently held with a high school age group around issues of Jewish representation in the media they consume and hope to create. Good luck in your work of adding to the discussion.