#also all those assignments for the next next weeks but heh

[keikakudom]

I converted one of my old OCs into a FOP/fairy godparent OC for fun. heh heh heh

some basic info under the cut:

Easton(blue godparent) has been in retirement for awhile, but eventually returns to being a godparent after "the fairy godparent shortage" in the original series. He's sort of a specialist, as in he usually gets assigned to miserable but deeply religious/indoctrinated children. His original profile is here, but generally his impression is pretty gloomy and wistful, but he's very thoughtful and enjoys the small, happy feats in life. Most importantly, he doesn't shy away from the sadness in the world either.

As for his godkid, Viola lives on the outskirts of Dimmadelphia in a religious congregation(read: cult) that encourages a very strong image of toxic positivity. She's also one of those choir-pageant church "angel"-like girls and helps a lot with designing costumes and sets for church plays. She has a dream of becoming a fashion designer. Unfortunately, the cult is super strict and conformist and tries to stifle her individuality, which is the source of most of her misery. Think of her personality as Fancy Nancy-meets-Moral Orel(definitely not as dark as the latter, but damn what a combination).

I imagine most of her wishes would be silly and chaotic, since they always try to embrace her creativity/artistic side. I think she'd wish stuff like making the next sermon is a pop concert, or for everyone to dress more lively = the entire denomination becomes paris fashion week, etc. General harmless shenanigans for the church :"D And yes, they most definitely hold mini-fashion shows all the time c:

Also a lil about Easton's anti-fairy, "Westoff"/Notsae, bc he's drawn here anyway: he's kinda like door-to-door mormon/jehovah's witness on eternal vacation. He's all about sunshine, rainbows, and staying with the status quo, and yes his "wand" is one of those tanning mirrors that'd double as a religious brochure, LOL. If Easton is all about having a quiet presence, this guy is yapper(as if being a jehovah's witness stand-in didnt already imply that). His interactions with Viola would mostly be convincing her that she should play at their own game and trick/manipulate others into following what she wants/likes, regardless of opinion and taste. "As long as you get what you want", the ends justify the means, sort of thing. He probably nicknames Easton "Eeyore".

[berryless]

Weekend worth of all at once

Sunday x Original Female Character (Fluff, PG || 970 words || preening, kissing, memories, Stellaron Hunter Sunday AU, a pinch of angst (?))

next part ⤞

Read this work on Archive of Our Own.

"I miss your wings," Sejal would say, and Sunday would stare at the message for long enough to blur the last six letters.

Still, he would write, "Interesting you only mention one part."

And without missing a beat she would answer, "Others adjacent parts are also welcome to visit. If you remember to grab them, I might even kiss you."

"Only if?"

"Hmm. Tough question. Fine. Kissing is still on the table even if only one thing comes."

"You spoil me."

"Someone should."

They never talked about their feelings or their future, that plural, shared between them two 'they' remaining quiet and illusive. As if agreed in silent acquiescence that nothing born out of the dream could last far into waking.

Given that those last years in preparation for Charmony Festival Sunday was spending with his life as it was on a timer, it fit him just fine.

Still, bits and pieces of affection managed to slip through the layer of preterition, and each time he swallowed them hungrily, pecking Sejal's fingers for crumbs until they bled. Whatever she was giving him, couldn't be enough to satiate him, but Sunday never asked for more.

What right did he have for that?

Even if his heart would skip a beat when she would tackle him in the doorway as soon as the door was closed, warm and soft and sweet and kissing his head off until everything before him swayed, and he had to hold onto her, hugging tight, fingers digging into soft hips, leaving imprints.

"That was quite the greeting," Sunday said, hiding his shaken breath in Sejal's cheek as he pulled her closer.

"I think it was appropriate level of excitement to display since I'm getting the full package of real you," she laughed, but Sunday suddenly felt guilty.

Because as real as he could be with her, it was never in full.

She caught his wing between her fingers, ruffling the feathers.

"Oh, someone looks ready to hatch."

Sunday blinked.

"What?"

"You growing new feathers, right? Come on, I'll help you."

He let himself to be led into the room and pinned against the backrest with Sejal straddling his lap.

Only then the words returned.

"That's the reason you mentioned wings?"

"Mmm-hmm… Noticed it last week… Now, don't move, I don't want to hurt you."

Sunday opened his mouth to stop her, but nothing came out. His hands that found perch on Sejal's hips pulled her closer as he leaned his cheek against her head. Her nose almost touched his wing with how close she inspected it. Sunday found it hard to breathe with her smothering him this way, but didn't complain.

He was long used to taking care of himself. Not that it was hard with mirrors around.

Still, he remembered the childhood. Mom's soft touch and Robin's restless pinches—little she was always eager to free him as soon as possible. Sejal felt like neither. She held him close and firm, trapped in her embrace, her touch heavy, but not unkind.

"Heh. All ready."

She pulled away, but Sunday didn't let her, holding the back of her neck as he kissed her. Sejal first froze, but soon melted into his hold, her arms snaking around him, scent of her warm slightly wet skin and clean soap enveloping him like a second hug.

"Is that a display of gratitude, or you trying to change the topic? Because I only checked one."

"I can do that myself," Sunday finally said, his fingers trailing over Sejal's cheek.

"I know. I just want to do it for you."

They came so easy out of her mouth, those words.

Sunday caught them with his own lips, mulling, biting them over, rolling them on his tongue.

Many people were ready to do things for him. He hardly needed asking for volunteers, just assigning things were sufficient enough.

He never asked Sejal, though.

Whatever she was giving him, she was always the one deciding to share, pulling and pushing the line of admission, letting him in step by step.

Into her dreams, her body, her waking self, her touch, her…

Sunday couldn't bring himself to think the last word, even inside his own mind.

It wasn't fair of him to think about it. To want it. To ask for it.

Whatever Sejal was giving him should've been enough.

Except it never was, no matter how wide he opened his mouth.

"Hmm, seems someone's ready to welcome their new feathers," Kafka laughed, lightly ruffling his wing. Sunday flinched, pulling it away to cover his face.

"I can do that myself," he said calmly.

"Suit yourself," the woman smiled, leaning against the table he was sitting at. "But if you want some help, little bird, you know you can ask for it. We don't bite."

"I'll make a point to remember."

"No nervousness before your grand debut?"

"It would hardly be my first time following the predetermined script."

"Hmm. Good attitude. Keep it."

He didn't need instructions to do as such.

After dealing with the feather, Sunday washed his hands from keratin dust and looked in the mirror to determine whether or not he needed changing the suits.

In his pocket laid the phone with two named contacts, opened with draft letters consisting only of ellipses.

Sunday pulled it out to check them both, but didn't write to neither.

Silverwolf could probably restore the history of his communications, but Sunday could never ask for that.

Everything that was left at Penacony belonged to the past, and it was where it should stay.

Still, his finger slid over five pointed letters, pausing on the last one before leaving the app and turning the phone down.

No matter how wide he would open his mouth now, nothing would fall into it, and that was the way he chose for himself.

[kuwdoravids]

Year in Vidding Review: 2023

Year-end round-up/meme: 2007 | 2008 | 2009 | 2010 | 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

April What (Yennefer of Vengerberg) The Witcher Netflix Making of "What" commentary: do it for the process (and for Yennefer!) The Witcher Netflix Mr. Brightside (Jaskier/Geralt/Yennefer) The Witcher Netflix

June Skipping Stones (Fringilla Vigo) The Witcher Netflix

August In Our Wake (Vilgefortz/Geralt) The Witcher Netflix

December [Festivid Assignment] - redacted until reveals! [Festivid Treat] - redacted until reveals!

Review questions under the cut.

Random process notes:

Well, I have been kidding for *counts* 16 years now?? I guess I kind of know what I’m doing when I have a good idea of what a vid is like inside my head. Which is why most of these vids took less than a week to make and none of them were on my actual to-make list that I had written down at the beginning of the year. Flighty ADHD/anxiety brain just latching onto the feelings of the moment and zooming across the timeline until I can call it done. I think I started two non-witcher vids during the year before Festivids but the witcher hyperfixation remains too strong. Everything else falling to the WIP piles. I tried to finish my Moonhaven vid but couldn’t focus. Tried to finish my Green Knight and Blade vids but no, my brain was more interested in writing +70k of fic this year, aha.

Overall thoughts:

HEY I made Festivid stuff! I can vid-non Witcher things! I was really worried there that my brain was just forever stuck on Witcher but! I did it.

Anyway. I really love vidding The Witcher Netflix and keep building up my clip gallery for easy reference for when I can settle in for the next witcher vid. I keep fuck up my exports though because I’m doing everything too quickly and not paying enough attention. So there’s some export-related things and a few minor clips I would have changed if I weren’t caught up in a in a rush. But overall I’m very, very happy with my crop of vids this year.

Favorite Vid:

Most of the time I have upwards of 8-16 vids a year and it’s easier to pick a favorite. When I do so few… they’re all my favorite. For different reasons.

For my Yennefer vid it’s my favorite editing.

For Mr. Brightside it’s my favorite song choice and tone (this is a cover in the style of The B-52s) for Jaskier.

My Fringilla vid — it’s my favorite thing that came together from all of the season footage of her character from seasons 1 and 2 and the song just makes me so happy that it tied everything together for her.

For the Vilgefortz/Geralt vid, oh it’s my favorite because it’s my pure id, heh, and my favorite build/pacing of all my vids.

My festivids are my favorite because I have been wanting to make things them for awhile now but hadn’t had the focus. And then I did!

Hardest to make:

The only thing that was hard was me exporting shitty stuff and not realizing it until days or weeks after I uploaded and crossposted. Anyway. I took my time with my festivid exports so those should look pretty good. Most successful:

They are all successful in my heart. I love them.

My best vid:

Probably my Fringilla or Vilgefortz/Geralt vid. I’m so happy how they turned out.

Most fun vid:

Mr. Brightside. I love playing with Jaskier’s humor with the song choice and the transitions.

Things I learned in 2023:

Mmm, I am still worked up about my fic WIPs and life anxieties that I wasn’t able to do more vidding things that I wanted. As for the projects themselves, I learned that it’s very handy to have a standing clip gallery all labelled and ready for when I want to make my next Witcher Netflix vid.

In 2024:

I always want to be ambitious in the new year but always end up wandering in completely unexpected directions. In any case I would love to finish my Moonhaven vid and get my brain in order to find the last of the Black Sails source I need for a vid idea that has been eating my brain for 4 months now. I also have my Philippa Eilhart Witcher vid I want to make as well as a season 3 Witcher Netflix vid too that’s taking up space in my brain.

[zhongrin]

[Part 3/3]

- I've seen you write/interact with characters on some other blogs, but I imagine the deluge of asks during EBG week kept you busy. That being said, do you prefer long form stories and interactions or shorter, one-off style ones? Both have their place. But do you have a preference?

- Are there any particular scenarios or ideas that you wish to explore for future EBG's?

- You've done this twice, to very good success. What is your advice for someone who may want to (in the future) create an EBG plotline similar to how yours turn out?

- Since you've been on both sides, what advice do you have for someone who may be interested in participating in future EBG's? (Either as a participant who has an "assigned bias" or as someone who may want to interact with a participant who has "an assigned bias?)

- As someone who's done this event twice, do you have any particular advice for people who want to send in asks to participate? Any particular way or ways you would like asks phrased?

- Lastly, I give you the stage. If there's any aspects about this particular EBG or EBG in general that you would like to talk about, but haven't had the chance to, feel free to talk about it here.

Thank you again, Meirin, for creating such an engaging storyline and event. I hope you don't mind the questions!

[ p1 ◆ p2 ◆ p3 ◆ p4 ]

✼ I've seen you write/interact with characters on some other blogs, but I imagine the deluge of asks during EBG week kept you busy. That being said, do you prefer long form stories and interactions or shorter, one-off style ones? Both have their place. But do you have a preference?

i love both equally! shorter asks gives me more room to play with and longer asks gets my brain juice going (especially if it described the thoughts and actions of my friends’ oc, because i am not 100% familiar with most of them)! i just feel a little sorry for people who sent in longer asks, because i had a very limited time to reply to them (most of them are answered the same day, or the next day they were sent in - with a few exceptions, like the gardemek ask), hence i couldn’t reply with longer answers.

i think i struggled more with the continuous ‘silly’ asks, especially those which didn’t have any relation whatsoever to the storyline. because to answer them i need to kind of take my mind out of the more ‘serious’ mindset and forget about it momentarily and just be silly. which means that it would disrupt my thinking process. this is why i think you might notice how i tend to answer the ‘sillier’ asks in a group/batches; either before or after i answering the storyline asks.

✼ Are there any particular scenarios or ideas that you wish to explore for future EBG's?

i have a few! …… that i won’t share because then it would be just me spoiling the plot now for everyone hahahah

but yes, i do have some thoughts in mind. they’re very generic as of now, though. one of them is a little similar to kopi ansy’s idea, heh.

✼ You've done this twice, to very good success. What is your advice for someone who may want to (in the future) create an EBG plotline similar to how yours turn out?

hskdjskdj i don’t know about it being ‘successful’ or not (because i mean… i know some people had fun but also i lost like 50+ followers, so there are clearly people who didn’t have fun too) but really, just have fun with your friends! i think i’m just very lucky that i have supportive friends & followers who are willing to go the extra mile to accommodate my shenanigans and actively participate in the event. so bring your friends and go wild. don’t be afraid to do stuff outside your comfort zone; you and everyone else might end up liking it in the end (e.g. i am not confident in making ocs and coviello is quite literally the first oc i have in….. years lol)

also, don’t stress on planning it all out. sometimes you need to just wing it and trust your instinct. i didn’t have any idea of what ending i wanted when this all started, and i certainly didn’t think of creating coviello a whole story quest. sometimes the best ideas come to you when you least expect it.

✼ Since you've been on both sides, what advice do you have for someone who may be interested in participating in future EBG's? (Either as a participant who has an "assigned bias" or as someone who may want to interact with a participant who has "an assigned bias?)

again, just have fun - it's a game, after all. and try to do both sides if possible. i’m a big believer on “you’ll eventually receive double of what you give if you’re persistent enough”. so if you’re participating as a participant with “assigned bias”, get out and sabotage! to as many blogs as you can! and remember this is all just a game — don’t take things personally, don’t be afraid of being striked, don’t be afraid to murder strike someone, and remember to pace yourself!!

and if you want to send asks to the participants, just remember to not be rude (there is a real human behind that blog name) and read their rules before interacting. also go through their blog for inspiration if you’re unsure of what to send in!

✼ As someone who's done this event twice, do you have any particular advice for people who want to send in asks to participate? Any particular way or ways you would like asks phrased?

hmmm. i think everyone has their own preferences for this, but personally, i favor storyline-related ask. it doesn’t have to be long (in fact, it would trouble me if you sent me a whole long novel ;;;). there’s a balance in there and i will usually try to make do with what i’m given.

and since that's the case, naturally, the common rp rules apply:

✅ bring in your s/i or oc (but please remember to put yourself in my shoes, especially if we’ve never talked before — i might not respond as you expected if i know nothing about your character) with their f/o. bring in my og bias if the storyline permits. bring in third parties if you want.

❌ controlling ‘my’ characters’ actions and thoughts (i.e. in the last ebg this would include: meirin, coviello, childe). sending in multiple asks before i can answer your previous one (please be patient, i'm just human and i work 9-6 on weekdays).

✼ Lastly, I give you the stage. If there's any aspects about this particular EBG or EBG in general that you would like to talk about, but haven't had the chance to, feel free to talk about it here.

what do i want to talk about…. oh! yes!

so in my first ebg, we had an ‘ebg afterparty’ where the ebg somewhat ‘extended’ for the whole weekend, where rubedo basically goes full-on yandere…. yeah don’t ask hskdjskjd BUT ANYWAY

originally, i had an idea to do something similar. so the original ebg event was just going to be something much lighter, without the god remains and everything else, because when childe confronted coviello, i had planned for him to ‘put a stop’ to coviello’s action. then, on the last day of the ebg, i had the idea of doing this:

(excuse any spelling mistakes or incomprehensible-sounding words, this was such a rough draft hahahah)

where it’s basically a ‘what-if’ or a spinoff of “what if childe agreed to help coviello���.... at this point i didn’t have the idea of their actual motives yet, so in my head it was just childe going full batshit insane yandere like albedo.

...... but then i think i realized it felt too similar to the last one, so i scrapped the idea :p

ALSO. when will someone host an ebg where you can acknowledge your og bias but you have to pretend you hate them? i feel like it would be extra painful but extra funny because you’re gonna have to roast your favorite character. also might be a good opportunity to delve more into that character because... you know. sometimes when we adore something/someone, we close our eyes to their flaws, when those flaws are actually what makes that character feel more multidimensional.

[harveyhawkscripts]

[A4A] Yandere Picks You Up After an Asthma Attack [Yandere Speaker] [Romance?]

Synopsis: The listener calls their yandere partner after an asthma attack caused by cigarette smoke.

WARNINGS:Yandere themes, emotional manipulation, tobacco and smoking 

About Yandere: A good pickpocket, strong, manipulative 

Ellipses (...) are listener replies

Words: 1014

Google Doc

[Ringtone, beep]

YANDERE

Hello, my darling. How was class?

...

Darling? You sound… winded. Tell me what happened.

...

What?! Do you have your inhaler on you?

...

(Sigh) Oh, thank God. That’s good, at least.

...

I know I always check before you leave, but what if it fell out of your bag, or - or if someone took it?

...

You never know! Someone might want to steal an inhaler.

...

Well... Oh, I don't know! Anyway, don't change the subject. Do you know what triggered the attack?

…

What?! Isn't the campus supposed to be tobacco free? You know, how all campuses are? 

...

(Sigh) Yeah, I guess you’re right.. Some people just don't care. 

...

Did you have your mask on?

...

You were eating lunch? They interrupted the lunch I made you! Hmph. What did they look like?

...

Of course not, darling. You know how slow to anger I am. I just want to report their behavior so it doesn't happen again.

...

Don't worry yourself over it, darling, it's bad for your health. I'll take care of everything. You just stay inside and rest for now. Sit up and focus on your breathing, and keep your inhaler next to you. I'll be there to pick you up in just a few minutes. 

...

Absolutely not! No offense, but you sound terrible. I'll email your professor so you can take the rest of the day off.  

...

You can always access your assignments online. Just promise me you'll rest before you start to work on anything.

...

Good. Hold tight, darling. I'll be there soon.

[Time Skip]

[Car locking]

Finally. Alright, they should be in that first building. Hm, maybe I should text them just in case...

Huh. That smell... Oh. Well, how about that. Now I won't have to bother looking for them. 

[Footsteps]

Excuse me? Smoking is prohibited on campus. 

...

Look, I don't have time to argue. Put those out before I make you eat them. 

...

Obviously it was a threat, you idiot!

...

Oh, the campus police? And what are they going to do?

...

(Laugh) And why would they kick me off campus? I have a student ID -- in fact, I have two! Yes, and your wallets, as well. And this pocket knife -- this isn't allowed on campus either, is it? It is nice, though. I think I'll keep it.

...

Oh, back off. You're obviously not very bright. There may be two of you, but I'm smarter and stronger than both of you dumbasses combined. 

...Fine. Since you want to be difficult, let's make this quick. My darling is waiting for me. [Time Skip]

There you are, darling. Let me look at you. Oh, poor thing. You must be exhausted. Here, I brought you some water. Drink slowly, okay? 

...

Hm? Oh, uh, there was traffic. Lots of traffic. 

...

My lip? My lip! Right. I was chewing my lip, uh, when I hit a bump in the road. 

...

Well, that's because --

[Cell Phone beep]

Oh, your professor emailed back!

...

Good news, he says you're exempt from this week's assignments.

...

Really. You're completely off the hook. Now, let's get you home. I have your nebulizer all set up for you. We can just cuddle and take it easy for the rest of the day, and we can watch whatever cartoon you want. How does that sound, darling? 

...

Yes, of course I'll make you some tea! Peach and lemon ginger with Tupelo honey, I assume. 

...

Heh, I thought you would want something sweet. Come on, darling. Let's head home. 

[Time Skip]

There. All done, love. You did very well. Wait here while I get your tea. 

...

I know you don't like nebulizer treatments, but it's to prevent you from having another attack. 

...

Hm, I bet a snack will help you feel better. Here's your tea, darling. I also brought you a toasted pretzel bun and - boop! - Your hypoallergenic teddy. Now, are you nice and cozy? 

...

Missing? D-did I forget something? Whatever you want, I'll -- 

...

Oh! Me!

(Chuckles) Of course, darling. Let me just snuggle up with you... There we go, all comfy. Are you feeling better now, love?

...

Good...

Darling, there's something I think we should talk about after today. 

...

Yes, I think it would be best if you switched back to online classes. 

...

But isn't it stressful to worry about your health and school? If you stay home you'll have me to take care of you. We could even put your desk next to mine. 

…

Darling, you are way more important than my job. You know that. Besides, the main reason I work from home is so I can be there for you when you need me. Not to mention, I miss you when you're gone. 

...

Oh, you don't need to stress over all that! I can arrange everything with your professors. It should be easy enough. 

...

But you'll have everything you need here at home! Don't you? Don't I give you everything you need?

...

Please don't fight me on this, darling. It's for your health. 

...

But it could happen again!

...

No, no. That's not how it works. I'm your partner so it's my job to take care of you.

… 

Darling, please calm down. You could have another attack. 

...

I know you just had a treatment, but you know how sensitive you are. 

...

(Sigh) Oh, my love. I know you wanted to attend in person this year. You won't be cooped up here, though! We can do picnics at the bay, go to the bakery -- I'll even take you to the library for study sessions. How does that sound?

...

There, see? I knew you'd come around. Now, enough serious business. Let's watch cartoons and snuggle our worries away. Can I pet your head?

...

Aw, there you go. Now you're relaxing... That's it darling, you can fall asleep. Rest as long as you want. I'll be here when you wake up. 

END

[jetblackheavt]

it’s friday and i got a week break from uni next week but i have to go thru this test that will start in like 40 min also we have this one task that needs to be submitted tonight but i haven’t even started it yet

[istanfluffycontent]

Hi ! Can you write a yeonjun best friends to lovers trope?

yeonjun best friends to lovers trope

Yeonjun has had a crush on you for as long as his memory goes. Yeonjun never realized that he fell for you until this morning. He was staring holes at the back of a the head of a boy you were chatting away with, feeling upset. “Heh, jealous much hyung?” “oh shut up Beomgyu, don’t you have something better to do?” “You’re just sad y/n’s not giving you her attention.” But Yeonjun wasn’t listening, he was already walking towards you and that pesty little boy that was stealing your attention, attention that he was suppose to have. 

His world lit up seeing you smile, but them dimmed again remembering that he wasn’t the one making you happy. But don’t worry, through all the daydreaming, he knew exactly what to do in this situation  he was going to handle this maturely, “Hey y/n! I need help with problem #21” “Oh of course you do! Come on, sit here.” And he did, but not where you pointed to. He shoved the boy who was also about to sit down next to you and sat right in his seat, “why are you looking at me funny? Help me with this.”

You knew that you’ve had a crush on your best friend Choi Yeonjun for quite some time now.. A couple weeks ago you told the boys, they acted like the ship as sailed and told you that Yeonjun had the exact same feelings. But.. you weren’t very sure if they were just teasing you. It all seems to make sense though- all of his jealous and protective behavior, how he never gets mad at you, and how he gives you special treatment even the boys don’t have. Today only reminded you of those thoughts, so you decided to talked to Taehyun about it during lunch.

Taehyun is lowkey triggered “Oh come on y/n! Are you blind? He would DIEEE for you! Friend?! Friend?! He literally lets you steal his sweatshirts and won’t ask for them back until it’s stained with your smell! I think he’s going to confess soon, he just needs a little push from you!” “Okay.. any ideas?” “Umm y/n he’s your future boyfriend, not mine.” You rolled your eyes at his helpfulness, but it’s almost as if the heavens were on your side, luck struck you in History class. 

“... about the foundation era, and the deadline is next Tuesday! Yes, you can pick your own partners and there will be NO TRIOS, I repeat, NO TRIOS. So get to work and if I hear complaining I’ll assign partners instead.” Obviously Yeonjun snached you before anyone else could and dragged you to his house after school. Taehyun’s words are still lingering in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything but the handsome boy in front of you. “.. y/n, y/n! Earth to y/n hello?” “uhh yeah?” “You’re zoning out, but thats okay cause I don’t wanna study either. Do you wanna go to a cafe or something with me?”

You took the opportunity to spend time with Yeonjun and clung onto it, staring at him the whole time. Not that he wasn’t doing the same “Uhhhhh y/n are you alright? Do you want to order anything else? It seems like there’s a lot on your mind today.” You almost blurted out “yeah you” but thankfully shrugged it off instead. Little did you know all he could think about was you. The peaceful moment was interrupted by someone tapping your shoulder, and to your surprise and Yeonjun’s annoyance, it was that boy you were talking to in study hall. 

“Hey Y/n! Its such a coincidence seeing you here! Thanks to you, I passed the mathematics exam. Do you.. Wanna hang out this weekend? I- I could use some help with the history project too and s-since you’re so smart I was thinking if we could go to my house and have a sleepove-”  Yeonjun was not going to have one. more. second. of this bullshit, “Ayo, you really think that y/n is your personal tutor don’t you? What, do you think she’s going to buy you coffee, take you to the parks, and propose to you too?” Scaring the boy was never his intention but it turned out that way. The boy turned on his heel and ran off. “Junnie, why’d you do that? I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm. Poor guy..” Yeonjun, on the other hand, did not feel bad at all. Another day of protecting his wife, he was feeling quite proud. 

He was tired of all these people hitting on you, and in the rush of the moment, he decided to shoot his shot. “Y/nahh, do you see this new shirt I’m wearing? It’s make of very special material.” “Really? What’s so special about it? Isn’t this just cashmere?” “No.” “Then what material is this?” “Boyfriend material.” You scoffed, “Stop messing around yeonjun, and you should go home now, it’s late.” “But it’s only 7 pm?” You didn’t answer him. Even in the dim cafe light, no matter how hard you’re trying to hide it, he could see that you were flustered. “I’m serious Y/n! T-taehyun, Soobin, they all told me so long ago that you had a crush on me and I thought they were joking but I can’t stand all- all these boys hitting on you! Why are you laughing? I’m serious I really am! All those things I listed before were things I wanted to happen to me, buying coffee and going to the park together and- and- yeah.” “Buying coffee and proposing, I’m not sure is something that can take place right now.. But we can go to the park-” “ And do other stuff later! I- Not the proposing, not now, o-or soon, but maybe one day.”

You laughed at how shy he seemed all of a sudden, and you two walked off too your favorite park, not as best friends, not as crushes, but lovers.

a/n: yall im back from my short break! i missed you guys so much. please take good care of yourself, drink lots of water and remember that you are loved!

[husbandohunter]

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

[anakinlove]

lili lili i have a request babe 🥺🤲

comforting and holding anakin after he comes home one night feeling stressed and upset with the council and how they treat him 🥺

please no rush with this ofc and please feel free to take it in any direction you desire!! hc or oneshot, whichever you prefer! and ily and ur writing and ur absolutely amazing <3

God this is so old but I??? Was looking through my inbox (because I’d like to start writing again) and I really miss you and this whole scene just popped into my head.

So... here’s a blurb.

(Check out my masterlist... also, I guess my requests are open again???? Wild 🤩)

Just What to Say 

Part one 

~

Anakin walks through the door without a sound. His normal bouncy steps, the whirling of his mechno-hand, and the constant soft humming all seemed to be absent. He moves slowly, as though in a trance.

Y/n notes all of this from her position on the couch, a book strewn across her lap.

“Darling?” She calls softly, brows furrowing, “are you alright?”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, his back turned like he wants to hide.

“Ani?” Y/n tries again and closes her book, setting it off to the side as she sits up more.

“I can’t do it anymore.” His low, quiet voice says back.

She grows even more concerned and stands up to walk over to him, her hand moving to rest on his lower back, “what is it, my love?”

He jerks away from her, curls falling into his face as he finally turns his head to look at her. His face is a mess, tear stained cheeks and red eyes that finally meet hers.

“Anakin?” Y/n’s eyes widen, “talk to me. What happened?”

“They happened.” He grounds out, fists clenching at his sides.

“Who... the- the council?” Her eyebrows scrunch more as she shakes her head softly.

“I got in trouble. Again. They’re-“ Anakin’s voice breaks and he closes his eyes, “Ahsoka is to be assigned to Master Plo for the next month.” He finishes in a whisper, each word carefully enunciated.

“What?” Y/n demands, “why?!”

“She’s not-“ He shakes his head, “she’s not keeping up in her classes. But that’s not her fault. Or mine! She’s on missions half the time, far more than any other Padawans, especially those that are in a different corp.”

“And they’re blaming you for that?” She asks incredulously.

He nods a little and sniffs, “I try so hard. To- to make sure she doesn’t end up like... like me.” He ducks his head.

“No hey,” Y/n’s voice becomes soft and gentle, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “no. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Then why do they hate me!?” Anakin sobs once.

She tears up too and pulls him to her, cupping the back of his head, arm firmly around his waist.

“I don’t know,” She whisper’s, “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m sure they don’t hate you. No one preaches not to hate like they do.”

He shakes and curls his body into her’s, arms winding tightly around her, nose burrowing into her neck, “they’ve never liked me.”

“Obi-Wan likes you. Obi-Wan loves you.” Y/n says determinedly.

“... the rest then.” Anakin doesn’t fight the words as he desperately tries to calm himself down. He hates feeling weak like this.

“Master Plo doesn’t hate you. Nor Master Yoda,” she continues, “and what on Coruscant could Master Ti have against you, hm? You literally fixed her toaster last week.” That gets a small, broken laugh out of Anakin.

“‘S true. I did.” He nods a little.

“I know,” Y/n smiles a little, beginning to card her fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry. About today. About Ahsoka. You’ll get her back. I promise.”

“But what if-“

“Nuh uh.” She interrupts him, “when I have ever broken a promise? Huh, Skywalker?”

He sighs and gives the smallest of smiles into her neck, “never.”

“That’s what I thought,” Y/n nods, “and hey! A month isn’t so long. Maybe you can build her a new droid during it. She’ll be over the moons.” She grins.

“Heh... yeah,” Anakin smiles wider and nods, “think I’ll do jus’ that. Maybe a BD unit.”

“We can go into the part storage room tomorrow,” She assures him, “how’s that sound?”

He reaches up to wipe his face before pulling back just enough to look down at her, eyes soft and full of love. Y/n’s eyes flick between his, scanning him with a small, confused smile.

“What is it?” She whispers.

“You always know what to say,” Anakin’s fingers just barely brush back her hair, his eyes mesmerized by the movement. The pad of his thumb comes up to brush Y/n’s jaw softly, “I love you. So much. More than you’ll ever be able to know.”

“And why won’t I be able to know?” She raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“Because,” He smiles lovingly, “there are no words that could ever describe it, not enough stars in the sky to compare it to, and no physical thing I could ever give to you that would represent it.”

Y/n grins widely and tilts her head up to brush her nose against his, “such a poet. And yet, after all of that, I still love you more.” She grins wider and kisses his nose.

“Wha-“ Anakin rears back and laughs, “now how does that make sense?! Hm?”

“It just does,” She shrugs, “now, what does my little love bug want to do tonight? Holos and snuggles?”

“Love bug,” He coos with a grin.

“Yes,” Y/n laughs softly, “my love bug.”

Her arm wraps around his neck as she pulls him down for a soft kiss, her other hand resting on his chest. He hums into the kiss and relaxes fully again.

At least he’ll always have her to come home to.

When he pulls back from the kiss, he gives her a small smirk, “actually, I know something physical that could show you how much I love you.”

[salty-rey]

Saving Lives

Bad Batch Fic | Sequel to Come Back

Pairing: Crosshair x reader (hinting)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Bodily injuries, blood, story time!

A/N: Hello! I wanted to write something that elaborated on the relationship between the sniper and combat medic. It’s rather rough, proof-read once (thank you Grammarly), and I may not captured Crosshair’s personality perfect. I hope you enjoy, and I will be back with another story!

Roughly two weeks have passed since the last mission, and during those long days, you were recovering from being shot. Being bedridden was not ideal, almost driving you stir crazy. Especially whenever you tried sneaking out of the barracks, there was always one member of the Bad Batch there to stop you. 

Wrecker freaked out when he caught you slowly shuffling towards the bathroom, asking why you were out of bed in panic. He only helped you after explaining your destination, waited outside before actually carrying you back to your cot. 

Echo spotted you slowly making your way to the kitchen area before redirecting you back to bed like a concerned older brother, staying by your side and offering his arm for support in case you felt weak. Quite the gentleman.. At least he went back to get whatever food you were craving. 

Tech found you attempting to do some stretches since you were stuck in bed for Maker knows how long. He lectured you on the facts that your wound may open again if you attempt any movement during a specific time frame. Even when you decided to lay back down he was still lecturing!

As for Hunter, he entered the barracks, catching you standing on your feet. You were in the middle of putting your chest piece armor back on when you winced at the slight sting of your wound. The Sergeant went full dad mode on you, scolding you for moving when you’re still recovering. Now you knew how it felt like to be Omega, which caused you to accidentally say, “Okay, dad.”

You watched Hunter’s back stiffen, an unreadable expression crossing his face before he turned around, leaving you alone in the barracks. What was that? You thought before sighing, slowly removing your chest piece. 

Speaking of Omega. Maker, bless that little girl. 

When you were initially knocked out after returning to the Havoc Marauder, Omega refused to leave your side. The boys tried to reassure her that you would be alright, but she wouldn’t budge. After a couple of hours, you woke up, disoriented at first, before spotting the little girl fast asleep on a chair at your bedside. Hunter was awake at the time, and he explained everything while you rested. The boys learned that it was indeed a trooper who shot you and not Crosshair because Omega was persistent in backing you up in your story. You watched the Sergeant carefully picking the youngest member up and carrying her to her makeshift bedroom.

You were awake when Omega rushed into the small barracks, eyes wide before spotting you. She first cried tears of joy, happy to you see that you were okay. Hearing her crying caused Hunter and the other boys to rush in, worried that something was wrong before relaxing after you explained why Omega was crying. 

Since that moment, Omega stayed and kept you company. Whenever she wasn’t informing you of the group’s next objective, she would ask if you needed anything like food or water. You felt bad having her grab something to eat for you, and you mentioned it to one of the boys whenever they pass the barracks. 

“I’ll let her know. She is looking after her teammate though.” Hunter commented before leaving. 

One day during the weeks of recovery, Omega came to your bed per usual and sat down. You were reading on your datapad before glancing up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she first started off, looking a bit nervous. 

“Sure, what’s up?” You asked after putting your datapad down. 

“I heard stories of the Bad Batch back on Kamino, but I was hoping to hear how you became part of the team. Since you’re not a clone like us. I-if you don’t mind!” The child asked bashfully, causing you to smile. 

“Of course! Heh, no need to be shy,” you grinned before relaxing against your pillow. “I was formally part of the 501st under General Skywalker, still as a combat medic. I helped aid their soldiers and taught any clones who wanted to become a medic. But I was taken out of that battalion and introduced to these guys after Wrecker’s accident.” You said, pointing to the left side of your face. 

Omega frowned at the mention of the deep scar on the more giant clone’s face. 

“Do you...know how he got it?”

“Not the specific details. Just that his fondness for exploding things up got the best of him at that moment,” you answered. “But that is a story for Wrecker to tell you himself. After his incident and intense care, the Kaminoans and High Command thought that it would be best for the Bad Batch to have a medic at all times. And that’s where I came in.”

“What was it like first joining them?” Omega asked, scooting her chair closer, eager to know more.

You laugh nervously before answering awkwardly, “A nat-born joining a bunch of mutated clones who have a distaste for regs? It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, Omega. At least, for some time.”

“Wait. Hunter and the others were mean to you?” Omega looked shocked, unable to imagine any of her older brothers being cruel. She began to turn towards the door, ready to get up and give the boys an earful.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, targon.” You quickly said, grasping her hand to stop her. “They weren’t mean to me. Just...indifferent.” Omega looked confused still, but she was no longer about to charge out of the room. Seeing that the girl was relaxed, you let go of her hand. 

“The boys are thick as thieves. Having a complete stranger joining them for Maker knows how long it was off-putting. But, one by one, they slowly welcomed me into their merry band. Well, all except Crosshair.” The mentioning of his name caused you to frown, your hand gripping the sheets. 

Omega noticed your shift of emotions, her eyebrows knitting together in worry. “You two were close.”

You couldn’t help but softly laugh a bit. “Not at first. He was the hardest one to be accepted by. It took us potentially dying just to get close.”

At that, Omega’s eyes widened, her jaw-dropping, and you knew that you had to tell her the story now, or she will never leave you alone. 

“Keep up, medic. Or I’m going to leave you behind.”

“Where have I heard that before?” 

It has been several months since you have joined Clone Force 99. And each mission has been quite eventful. All dangerous, non-stop action and heart-pounding moments. You had seen your share of action before joining this group, especially when you were with General Skywalker and his boys in blue. But the 501st pale compared to the Bad Batch. Then again, the Bad Batch is sent to suicide missions, unlike the 501st, so the comparisons aren’t fair. 

Such missions that you were on right now. 

Infiltrate a Separatist’s stronghold, eliminate the enemy commander and destroy their entire base. Nothing new but this time, you found yourself on a thick rainforest-like planet. It was the dead of night, using the shadows to your advantage. While the boys handled the assigned target, you and Crosshair were tasked to eliminate any remaining outside forces and retrieve a getaway vehicle. 

You have been paired with Crosshair in the past, but they have never been pleasant. The sniper all but ignored you or let out harsh remarks, insulting even, but you did your best not to let it get to you. All attempts to befriend him or have him loosen up a bit around you. It was all in vain, though, and even the rest of the batch members have told you to simply give up.

“It’s not you,” Hunter said one day as they were currently jumping through hyperspace. “He’ll come around. Just you wait.”

But it has been so long now. When will it happen? You were getting tired of the glares and sneers, but you refused to give in. 

Focusing back on the mission, the two of you reached the edge of the forest, locating the hanger currently guarded by battle droids. 

“Those dwarf spider droids may be a problem,” you stated, spotting the said droid following the standard clankers. 

“You should have stayed on the ship if you’re going to get cold feet. You’re useless on the battlefield,” Crosshair sneered under his helmet. You remained quiet, refusing to glance at him. To give him any satisfaction of his words stinging you intensely. 

“Just give me some cover fire. And don’t hit me,” you stated before donning your eyeshield then rushing in with your dual pistols. 

Having done this countless times, taking down the droids has become second nature to you. So, one by one, the droids fall, caught off guard from a sniper shot from the thick forest. They were also surprised to see a single soldier rushing them with nothing but two pistols. 

Once the separate hangar was secured, Crosshair silently joined you, neither one speaking. No “thanks” or “great job.” Then again, the Bad Batch weren’t the ones to compliment each other. Do the job, and get out alive. 

“Crosshair, (Y/N). What’s your status?” Hunter’s voice came through the comlink. 

“Just cleared out the hangar. We’re getting the getaway vehicle right now,” you responded as Crosshair began to hotwire one of the landspeeders. 

The landspeeder came to life, and you quickly hopped on, not wanting to test to see if Crosshair would actually leave you behind. The speeder raced down towards the rest of the crew’s location, staying on time with the plan. As the wind whipped through your light armor clothing, you began to hear a faint beeping sound. Leaning down to the ground, the beeping was getting louder and faster. 

“There’s a bomb!” You shouted with realization before rushing towards Crosshair. 

The sniper didn’t have enough time to respond because you tackled him off the ledge of the speeder. You had thought that you reacted quick enough, but the planted bomb exploded, launching the two of you further into the air. You felt your hands slip from Crosshair’s armor, separating the two of you. 

Then, you landed hard onto the ground, and you felt something snap within you. You couldn’t scream, the air being knocked out of you as your body tumbled and rolled to a stop. Summoning whatever strength you had, you slowly pushed yourself up with your arms before sharply sucking in some air, pain flaring on your right side. Carefully feeling your side, you came to a quick conclusion before gasping.  

Crosshair?! Looking around, you spotted the nonmoving clone a few feet away from you, and your stomach dropped at the sight of him. The silver-haired man was lying on his back, his helmet knocked off his head, and you spotted blood oozing from a cut above his eyebrow. Not only that but his right arm and left leg were awkwardly twisted. 

Fighting off your own pain, you crawled towards him before pushing yourself on your feet. The world spun, almost causing you to fall backward, but you quickly regained your balance. We can’t stay out in the open. That explosion will attract more droids to our location. 

Placing his helmet back on his head, you hook your arms under his shoulders. 

Dragging his body deeper into the forest was no easy feat. You were panting and sweating, your head was pulsing, and the pain on your side was overbearing. With every shift, you felt your bones poking at your lungs, causing you to slow down before resuming.

There! 

You spotted a large tree, and underneath the roots, the ground sunk and became hollow. It was a perfect hiding spot, and droids are dumb; they never look up or down. 

Not wasting any more time, you slid both you and Crosshair into the hole, and once settled, you immediately went to work. 

.

.

.

.

Crosshair slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times as his vision cleared. He tried sitting up, but that caused his head to ache more than it already was. Raising a hand, he felt bandages wrapping around most of his head.

“Leave it alone unless you want to bleed again.” 

Crosshair looked over, spotting you sitting nearby, weapons at hand. “What happened?” The sniper groaned, lowering his arm down.

“The landspeeder had a bomb planted and exploded. You broke your arm and leg and had a concussion.” You answered, receiving another groan from the clone after he noticed those said injuries wrapped up in wooden splints. “I’m guessing if the vehicle was activated improperly, it would self-destruct. No wonder the GAR had issues with this Separatist; they thought of everything. Hey! What are you doing?”

Crosshair had begun to sit up, using his good arm to push himself from the floor. “What does it look like?”

“You’re not fit to move around, Crosshair! And neither am I.” You shouted, shuffling towards him, putting your hand on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. “I broke 3 ribs, and I can feel them poking my lungs. Hunter knows of our situation, and they’re working right now to find a way to pick us up.”

Crosshair pushed your hand off of him with his good arm, his glare piercing you. “I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

“Apparently, someone does. As your medic, my word is final when it comes to your wellbeing.” You snapped back, putting your hand back on his shoulder and pushing him down. “I’m not letting you toss your life away, all because you want to be stubborn!”

“Don’t act as you care about us clones!” The sniper growled, struggling underneath your hold. “We’re exposable for you perfect nat-borns!”

Your grip on his shoulder loosen, and your glare slowly softened. “Is that why you hate me? Because I’m a perfect nat-born?” You questioned almost a bit too calmly, which startled Crosshair a bit. He wasn’t expecting this reaction from you. No glares or quick remarks. Just silence. 

“I am not perfect, Crosshair. No one is perfect. Nat-borns, regs, defects, we’re all the same. Living and breathing, filled with emotions and flaws. What we do with ourselves is what makes us unique.” You said before moving away from him. “I chose to be a medic because I was tired of seeing everyone dying around me.”

Crosshair slowly raised an eyebrow, his face slowly relaxing. “What...do you mean by that?”

You spare him a brief glance before leaning against a stomp, steadying your breathing. And so, you began your tale. 

You were born into slavery and having no memories of your parents, too young to really. Among the slaves were children such as yourself, and you called them brothers and sisters. However, one by one, they either died in accidents, killed by their masters, or sold off to buyers. Finally, after years of servitude, you managed to escape, sneaking onto a shuttle and never looking back. 

“The moment I left the shuttle, I was given another chance. A chance my brothers and sisters would never have. That’s when I decided to become a medic. Then I volunteered to be a combat medic because I wanted to save lives.” You finished your story, your breathing steady.

“Even if you were created to fight for someone else’s war, that doesn’t mean your life is meaningless. Believe it or not, but I do care about your life. And that of your brothers’. Losing a loved one is never easy, and I don’t want to see any of you go through that.” You fell silent before taking a small breath. “I didn’t tell you my life story so that you can pity me or for me to win you over. Just to tell you my reasoning in life. What you do with my story is up to you.”

Silence fell between the two of you. Neither one dared a glance at the other. You didn’t like opening up old wounds, telling others your story. The only one who knows is Anakin because the two of you share a kinship of being former slaves. 

An hour has passed, and your comlink came to life. Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch contacted you, informing you that they have returned to the ship and are en route to pick both of you up. Their arrival was quick, and so was being carried into the Havoc Marauder. 

They had succeeded in their part of the mission, even if they were now chased by any remaining droids. It wasn’t an issue, though, once they left the planet and jumped into hyperspace.   

“After that, we were flown to the closest medical station, and we were both healed up.”

Omega was speechless. She had heard stories of the Bad Batch’s missions back on Kamino through word of mouth from the troops, but nothing detailed. This was quite the tale, and she felt a lot of emotions. The first thing that the girl managed to say was, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. The important part is that we both survived, and after that, Crosshair wasn’t so harsh on me. In fact, he always had my back. It was his idea to outfit my old armor to that of Clone Force 99, officially making me one of them.” You replied with a soft smile. 

“Thank you for telling me your story. I hope we get Crosshair back soon because I would like to know what he was thinking throughout that moment.” Omega said, causing you to smile sadly. 

“Yeah, me too...”

Omega noticed your sadden expression at the thought of the sniper, awkwardly shifting in her chair. Hoping to lighten up the mode a bit, Omega asked you, “So, why is your nickname “Freckles”?” 

Your cheeks warmed up and you softly laughed, looking embarrassed. “When the rest of the boys checked up on us, I was being removed from a bacta tank. All I had on was my top and tight shorts. They saw that my mostly covered areas like my thighs were littered with freckles, and that’s where I got my nickname. It was embarrassing.”

“Yeah! But Crosshair was the one who pointed it out!” The booming voice of Wrecker came as the boys now stood at the doorway.

“From what I remembered, you were the one who whistled at her in the first place.” Tech pointed out. “Quite improper if you ask me, since she is part of our team.”

“Need I remind you that you were the one who recorded the whole thing,” Hunter added in. “Don’t you think that’s improper?”

The boys began to bicker among each other, except for Echo who simply listened to the retelling of that moment with intrigue. All of this just made you blush harder, covering your face with the sheets. Because you also remember Crosshair looking you up and down, before smirking and saying “Nice freckles.”

[187days]

Day One Hundred Eleven

I pulled the meanest stunt ever (so they tell me, heh) on my GOV students today. They finished their first full-sized (as in, same size as the actual AP exam) test yesterday, and today’s the Friday before a week-long vacation, so my agenda was an episode of The West Wing. They really like the show, they were psyched for it to be a chill day. WELL The episode I showed was “What Kind of Day Has It Been,” which ends with an assassination attempt. I’m saying, it was gunshots and a fade to black, followed by my students shrieking and telling me they couldn’t believe they were leaving on a cliffhanger, how could I do that to them, etc, etc...

I did promise we’ll watch the next episode on the 28th when we return to school. 

So that was fun.

I had an actual lesson to do in World because ninth graders need to learn that days before vacation are not throwaway days. We went over the assignment they’d done yesterday, I took questions, we read a bit more about Jewish beliefs, and then I showed a few video clips: a day in the life of a rabbi, a video of Shabbat in Jerusalem, a video about Yom Kippur. It matched the info in the readings we’d done with some visuals, gave them some information about a culture they’re largely unfamiliar with. In all three sections of the course, a student remarked on that lack of familiarity and on the fact that there aren’t many Jewish people in this community, and I explained why (historically, Jews were discriminated against in this part of the state, the resorts were segregated, etc, etc...) That was a somber but important moment. It’s not something they knew about the local history. We also discussed how life would be different if there was a large Jewish community here: how that would impact when things are scheduled, what foods were served in our major restaurants, and so on. Basically, my goal is teaching them to identify the major beliefs, customs, and practices associated with a specific religion, and recognize how religion can impact other aspects of culture. 

Typically, my lessons go most smoothly in my Block 1 class, but today those students were not particularly enthused, and I get it. It’s a Friday morning, last day before vacation, etc, etc... It happens. And it’s not like they didn’t do the lesson, but there was a lot less participation than usual. On the other hand, there was a lot more than usual in my Block 2 class. Students who don’t normally put their hands up asked questions or contributed observations, which was great. I also got apologies from two students who’d been a bit disruptive in past classes (they were more disruptive in Ms. A’s classes, so she’d actually called their parents, which I think is what led to this), and their behavior was much improved. I had to stop my Block 4 class and address their behavior, but once I did it was fine until about the last ten minutes when everyone’s academic stamina just ran out. Again, though, I get it. Vacation was looming.

Mr. F, Ms. A, Mrs. R, and I had a victory celebration in the hallway after students left. Then Ms. H came up to chat briefly because she had some questions for me as her mentor. Then I did the little bit of grading I had to do. And then I left, got coffee, and met a bunch of staff, students, parents, and community members downtown because one of our sports teams won a state championship and they did a bus parade on Main St. The local police and fire departments were their escorts. It was noisy, joyous, and probably confusing to the tourists. And it’s a great way to end the week!

Vacation time now, woohoo!

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Chemistry — Sokka x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Words: 1.4k

Summary: you and Sokka are chemistry lab partners.

A/N: this was supposed to be a blurb but uh...yeah I couldn’t end it for some reason. Anyway, I just really felt the need to give our boy Sokka some love! Btw, reader is kinda judgy in this one heh

Masterlist

1203...1204...ah, room 1205! Found it!

Today was your first day of Chem Lab 101. You arrived at the lab a few minutes early, hoping to get a good spot.

When you entered the room, you realized that everyone else had the same idea. All the lab benches were taken except for the one in the way back. And, even worse, you noticed that all your classmates were already partnered up.

I guess I’m on my own. You were disappointed but hid it well, making your way to the back.

“We’re waiting on one more student. I’ll give them a minute or two, then we can begin,” your lab professor announced, glancing at the watch on her wrist.

While patiently waiting, you heard a ruckus outside. Soft, distant thumping grew louder and nearer. It was the sound of someone running, which came to a halt at your lab.

“I’m sorry I’m late, professor! We got let out of class late and it was on the complete opposite side of campus and—“

“Okay, okay,” the professor said, holding a hand up to stop their rambling. “Just find a place so we can get started.”

You peaked up from your phone to get a look at the person. It was a tall guy with short-ish, brown hair in a ponytail, wearing black joggers and a blue hoodie. You got the feeling that he was the lazy type.

Oh, spirits, I’m going to be stuck with the slacker now, aren’t I?

“Hey, is this seat taken?” He asked, pointing to the empty space next to you.

Well, what do you think, dummy? This is the only one left and you’re the last student. You smiled politely and shook your head, but on the inside you were rolling your eyes.

“Great!” He plopped his backpack on the lab bench. You went back to mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you noticed a hand in the corner of your eye.

“My name is Sokka, and you are...?”

You looked up at him. His blue eyes shined as brightly as his smile did.

He’s lucky he’s cute.

“[Y/n],” you replied before shaking his hand.

“Alright class, welcome to Chem Lab 101,” your professor began. “My name is Ms. Wu. Today, we’ll go over lab rules and class policies, but don’t think I’m not going to give you any work today! After this, I’ll have you all work in pairs on an experiment...”

“Good job today, class is dismissed.”

Your first lab wasn’t so bad after all. Sokka turned out to be a pretty decent partner (at least so far). He followed instructions well, but the true test is whether he’ll contribute anything to the lab report due next week.

Since high school, one of your biggest pet peeves was doing group projects. More specifically, group projects with people who do nothing. You would usually ended up doing all the work. It’s frustrating and unfair. So if this Sokka guy would turn out to be one of those no-good partners, you might just ask your lab professor if you can work on your own.

As you exited the lab, Sokka jogged up next to you.

“Sooo,” he started, “what are your plans for tonight?”

Okay, I know I said he’s cute, but I really don’t want to be hit on right now...

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“I was just thinking we could get a head start and get that lab report done.”

“Oh.” That was unexpected.

“Yeah. It seems simple, I bet it wouldn’t take us long.” Sokka shrugged while he put his hands behind his head. You raised an eyebrow.

Not only did he want to start early, he also thought it would be a cakewalk. It was cocky, but you were glad to hear this from him (especially since you thought he was going to ask you out after meeting you only a couple hours ago).

“Sure, I’m free at 7,” you said.

“Bet. I’ll meet you outside of the library at 7! Gotta run!” And he took off, running down the hallway, probably to the other side of campus again.

“Hey!” Sokka called out to you, jogging up the front steps to the library.

You had arrived just a few moments ago and decided to wait outside for him. Unlike earlier today, he was on time.

After greeting him, the two of you wandered the library until you found an empty table to work at.

“You ready to ace this lab?” Sokka asked enthusiastically, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied nonchalantly.

“What? You don’t like chem?”

You shrugged. “Eh...it’s okay. I don’t hate it, but it’s not my best subject.”

“Well, don’t worry. I like chem, and I’m pretty good at it. Not trying to brag or anything, buuuut, if you need help, just let me know!” He grinned and gave you a thumbs up.

Again, not what you were expecting. Maybe Sokka really wasn’t who you thought he was, and you judged him unfairly. It was a bad habit of yours, but at least you would keep your thoughts all to yourself.

You gave him a nod, and the two of you got to work.

“I got 4.73 grams of Zinc Nitrate,” you said, setting your calculator down to write your answer.

“Hmm...hold on, can I take look?” Sokka asked, leaning in close to look at your work. You gave him a quizzical look, trying to suppress the growing heat on your cheeks.

“You have an extra significant figure, and you forgot to convert your units here,” he said, pointing to the mistake in your work. His arm just barely grazed yours. You felt sparks go off, leaving goosebumps behind.

“The answer I got is 6.8 grams,” Sokka continued. He either didn’t notice the brush of contact or was just being cool about it. “I double checked it, I think it’s right.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” You tried to act natural. On the inside, you were flustered.

He really is good at this. And he’s cute. Wow, he is so cute. I lucked out big time today.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to help. I probably shouldn’t point out your mistakes like that...but everything else in your equation is right!”

“No, no, no, I just...uh...you know, I’m not good at chem, and, well, you’re smart, so...” you stuttered.

“Thanks,” Sokka chuckled.

“Not that I thought you were stupid!” You blurted.

“I know, I know. It’s because I look stupid, isn’t it? Yeah, my sister tells me that all the time,” Sokka joked, jotting down some notes before moving his eyes up to glance at you. The look sent shivers down your spine.

Spirits, he’s funny too. I’m done for. Hold on...how long have I been staring at him?

“Haha yeah,” you awkwardly laughed, “wait, I mean, no! You don’t look stupid at all!”

Sokka threw his head back. “What’s the matter? Chemistry got your brain fried?”

You plastered your hands onto your burning face. “I guess so...”

“You’re cute when you blush like that.”

Your eyes widened behind your hands, and your face became even redder than you thought possible.

“Umm...thanks. I think.” Your voice was muffled by your hands.

“And you’re funny too,” Sokka chuckled. “So I was going to ask you this when we finish, but now might be a good time. Do you want to grab dinner with me after this?”

You slowly dropped your hands. Your heart pounded against your chest. “Like...a date?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged in a very cool and collected way, “if you want it to be.”

“Oh...yeah, I’d like that.”

“Alright then, let’s power through this!”

The rest of the assignment went smoothly, save for those few times you got a little flustered when you caught yourself staring at Sokka. The two of you worked hard and finished fairly quickly.

And dinner afterward was nice. He took you to new restaurant that he had been meaning to try. You got to be with him in a more casual, non-academic setting, and you learned a lot about him. All the while, you thought about how lucky you were to get him as a lab partner.

Cute, smart, funny and just all around cool. I can’t believe I thought I was going to be miserable with him the second I saw him.

“You know, this was nice. We should do this again,” you said, exiting the restaurant while Sokka held the door open for you and you.

“Which? The study session? Or the date?” Sokka smirked.

“Both. Well...more of the date than the study session, but that’s only because I’m not good at chem.”

“I see. I’m that case, I’ll tutor you, and then take you on a date. How about that?”

“Deal!” You said with a truly polite smile this time.

[sneverussape]

leaving is the loudest

one-shot, 2300+ words. purely because i couldn’t get this drawing out of my head. it was originally supposed to be a two-shot, with the second part focusing on severus losing tobias and essentially having the tables turned from this one. but...i got tired. heh.  cw: abuse, parent death, toxic parent-child relationship summary: abraxas malfoy dies when lucius is 16. severus is the sole witness to lucius’ complicated grief. 

--

He was running but he wasn’t alone. “Snape!” Lucius thundered as he faced down the boy who had halted in his tracks as soon as he whirled around in mid-step. It was November and the grounds were near-frozen, and the scrawny second-year was following him like a shadow across the Great Lawn. He was also wearing the coat Lucius had given him just two weeks ago – it wasn’t charity, it was merely a necessity since Lucius had recently discovered that Severus’ own coat was more than a bit threadbare and barely able to keep out the elements; he had no desire for the boy to get pneumonia before the term was even over – and scowling in a manner that would have made milk curdle. “What do you think you’re doing? Get back inside!” “Malfoy!” the boy shot back with equal ire, his face pale and pinched under the moonlight. “Where are you going? After Professor Slughorn met with you three days ago you’ve been disappearing for all hours! What’s the matter with you?” There was a thread of something like worry in his tone but it disappeared fast enough that Lucius could have thought he had imagined it. Severus was not done with his litany, at any rate. “You’re my assigned prefect, mind! I’ve had to go round the corridors the long way to avoid Potter, and we’ve a schedule for French and Defense Against the Dark Arts revisions tonight! Plus you said you’d show me that book of poisons your aunt gave you. You promised!” Blast. He was right. But Lucius was not in a tolerant mood tonight. Those could wait. “Get back into the school, Severus, and leave me be,” Lucius said, hoping the use of the boy’s first name would make him obey without him having to resort to any hexing, and he would if pushed. He doubled down with a threat: “I will remove House points if you continue in this fashion.” Severus snorted, crossing his arms. Lucius’ coat was two sizes too big for him but he remained unbothered and wore it with ease, folding the sleeves so his hands could at least still be visible and utilized easily. “As if you would and even if you did, as if I would care,” he challenged Lucius with a glint in his eye. “Besides, you’re the one skipping on supper to go off on this moonlight stroll. Reckon that’s already earned us enough demerits as it is.” “Get back inside, now.” “No. Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Lucius bristled as his temper flared, rendering him warm despite the frigid night air. He had not counted on this intrusion to what he had hoped would have been a strictly private affair – if he had been planning to stomp off into some hidden corner to shout, cry, or blast an unknowing tree into bits of bark while everyone else had been seemingly occupied with the evening meal then that was between him and him alone. He, of course, had not counted on Severus Snape to notice his departure from the Great Hall, let alone follow him. He didn’t even know how Severus had slipped out himself, with the second-years so near to the staff table, but he knew better than to underestimate the boy’s talents, as everyone else was wont to do. “I’m warning you.” Lucius was already fingering his wand in preparation to strike. He didn’t want to hurt the boy, but it seemed he had little choice. He wouldn’t make it bleed too badly, at any rate. “You have one more chance to turn around and return to the cast—" Something inside of him seemed to snap with such suddenness and ferocity that he gasped and dropped to his knees on the damp grass. Despite being frozen in his spot, he felt as though he had been submerged in ice-cold water, and the Malfoy signet ring he usually wore on his right hand burned with a heat that had him clutching at his wrist. The pain vanished in a span of seconds, but a cloying emptiness where there had once been the familiar, if not tenuous, connection to his father had enveloped him thick enough to smother, and Lucius let out a strangled breath, feeling as though he had been left untethered in the middle of a raging sea. He could barely hear Severus’ voice over the roar in his ears. “—Lucius, oh my God, get up, please! What’s wrong? Are you all right? Fuck, I’ll have to call Madame Pomfrey!” He reached out and snatched Severus’ wrist before the boy was able to run back to the castle. The last thing he needed now was an audience. “No,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “For Merlin’s sake, Severus—” “What’s wrong with you?!” Severus demanded, his tone high-pitched with fright. He shook Lucius’ shoulders. For such a scrawny whelp, he was irritatingly strong. “Malfoy, please talk to me. Are you all right? Did you take anything? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me!” Despite the intense emotions that were already threatening to swallow him whole, Lucius nearly laughed at Severus’ boldness. “You can’t help!” he snapped, determined to put the boy in his place. No matter Severus’ intentions, there were some things he was loathe to explain to him. “But if you go to Pomfrey or any of the professors right now, I swear to Merlin will hex you into next week and I can assure you Sluggy will do nothing in your defense if I do. I mean it, Snape.” “Are you even listening to yourself? I’m not the one kneeling on the ground right now—” “My father’s died. Just now.” Lucius felt wooden speaking the words, and it was as though he was hearing them being spoken from a stranger’s mouth. “He’d been taken ill a few days ago and it was quite serious. But now he’s gone. I…I felt it.” Severus gaped at him for all of two seconds before nodding very solemnly. “I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly looking very young. “Malf—Lucius. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” “Don’t apologize, would you?” Lucius snarled. “You didn’t create the ruddy pox that took him. And you hadn’t known him either, so his loss has no real effect on your existence.” Two red spots appeared in the boy’s cheeks. “I was being polite. You don’t have to be such a right bastard about it,” he said through gritted teeth. “He is…was your father. You’re my…mate…prefect...something, I don’t know. God.” Severus mumbled the words before he blew out a breath. When he next spoke, it was tentative: “What…what now, then?” Lucius was surprised that the boy even had to ask, but he remembered that Severus wasn’t a pureblood. Of course he wouldn’t know. He inwardly groaned as he willed himself to be patient enough to answer coherently. “My father’s death,” he released a shuddering breath, “automatically makes me the head of the family. Hogwarts will likely receive the missive announcing it before tonight’s end. I expect that I shall have to go to Wiltshire tomorrow to attend to those matters as well as his burial. He’ll have to be buried beside my mother…” The magnitude of the change that would be brought about by his father’s death slowly sank in: the Gringotts accounts. Their properties. The hidden cache of Dark Arts tokens in his father’s study. The changing of the magical signatures. The wards. The updating of blood contracts. The expectations. And as the new pater familias he would have to grow out his hair now…Merlin and Circe, he had just turned 16 just that September! And now he was an orphan…. Lucius buried his head in his hands, the yawning emptiness inside of him like a chasm he wanted to throw himself into. When he felt the hand on his shoulder, he flinched away automatically, half-expecting it to be his father’s touch. A bitter taste crept up the back of his throat when he remembered that the last encounter he had had with Abraxas Malfoy was the tirade he had been subjected to on the day before leaving for Hogwarts; it had been a long one about failure and ineptitude despite his outstanding O.W.L.S., and how his poor mother had died in childbirth for naught, but Lucius had only half-listened. He was used to that type of treatment; any spare moments between him and Abraxas had always been filled with his father’s constant vitriol, the cycle only broken by the rare occasions of doting whenever he was in a generous mood, or when he remembered and wanted to drive home that their family now consisted of just the two of them. His father had demanded for his only son’s respect and loyalty, despite having wielded words as weapons and throwing them at him with startling aim, and Lucius had loved him enough to let all his attacks, unprecedented or otherwise, be met with silence. But now…the thought of arriving at an empty manor terrified Lucius. His father had always been such an imposing and terrifying figure in his life that the full realization of his loss paralyzed him. He did not know how he could possibly move forward. He did not know how to come to terms with a silence that should have been his father’s to fill. “I’m sorry.” Severus said again, although Lucius wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. His hand landed with uncharacteristic gentleness on Lucius’ shoulder, and this time, Lucius didn’t flinch. He heard the grass beside him rustle as Severus sat down. “You’re missing supper,” Lucius stated, his prefect instincts overriding his current emotional turmoil. It was no secret to him that, besides Potions and spells practice, mealtimes were Severus’ favorite times of the day. The boy never missed a meal if he could help it, and he’d be damned if the brat lost weight while at school, on his account no less. Narcissa would kill them both.  “I know the way to the kitchens. Hogwarts will at least never let me starve,” Severus scoffed in reply, defiance edging his tone. Lucius sighed. He knew what Severus was doing; the boy was as subtle as a rhinoceros set loose in an apothecary. “Snape, you don’t have to—” “Malfoy,” Severus interrupted, and Lucius could already imagine him sneering. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m not leaving you here, all right? Stop being such a thick, stubborn git.” “I’m the prefect, mind you. You’re not allowed to make concessions.” “Yeah, and you’re a bloody numpty too, I can tell you that, sitting here in the freezing cold.” “You’re a child.” “So are you if we’re going by technical terms.” “For all intents and purposes, my being Lord Malfoy now makes me an official adult.” “You don’t even know how to pay your bloody taxes, you pureblood ponce.” “Ha!” Lucius felt strangely triumphant, and the reply came before he could restrain himself. “I’ll have you know that my father taught me well in that regard. Handling an estate or several isn’t one for the weak-hearted.” Severus looked slightly impressed although he tried not to show it. Talking about their families’ personal matters was not a popular topic in Slytherin house. For the most part, they knew where each family stood with regard to the Dark Lord, and the inherent closeness those relationships bred entailed that they were also quite knowledgeable of how everyone else’s fathers and mothers were like behind closed doors. The occasional halfblood or Muggleborn that managed to get sorted into Slytherin however was often a challenge they had to contend with, but Severus had always been a quick study. “You loved him then? Your father?” he asked, clever enough to steer clear from the labels of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ that more simple-minded folk tended to veer towards, but also sufficiently impertinent enough to bring up a concept that Lucius felt was a cauldron fit to explode. Love…was a strange emotion to attribute to his father, and he would be lying if he said that Severus’ words didn’t make Lucius feel as though he had been kicked in the throat. “He was my father. Of course I…” Lucius paused as the words caught on his tongue. He all at once felt humiliated, enraged, and confused at the realization that his father could still manage to reduce him to such a state of speechlessness. What Severus had asked shouldn’t have been a difficult question, and yet it clearly was. “He was the only one I had left in the world after Maman died,” he finally said, attempting to put into words the turbulent emotions that warred within him. “I…cared for him a great deal. I gave him nothing less than what he asked for…what he expected. I’m…grateful…to have been his son. To be a Malfoy.” He saw a knowing gleam in Severus’ eyes and was grateful when the boy kept his mouth shut. His chest felt tight and he wondered for a moment if his heart was still beating…if his father had not, in fact, stolen it away in his final moments. Lucius would not have been surprised if he had. It seemed, after all, that Abraxas Malfoy had taken everything else upon his leaving, even those that Lucius had never thought he had been willing to give. The silence in the wake of his father’s final departure was deafening, and Lucius covered his hands with his ears. “It will be all right,” he heard Severus say, his voice soft and muffled. A warm weight flitted over his shoulders and Lucius quickly realized the boy had transfigured his coat into a large blanket and had wrapped it around him. He didn’t bother to protest. “You’re all right.” He wasn’t, and he wouldn’t be, not for a long time, but Lucius’ eyes stayed strangely dry nevertheless as he leaned into Severus’ comforting warmth. .

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 3.4 - The Dog’s View and the Giraffe’s View

4. CHILD OF VOLLEYBALL

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In the week before the ballgame tournament, practice for the tournament took priority over after school club activities. On Monday after school, it was the first day of team practice for Team F.

“I’m not the manager for the boys’ volleyball team. I’m just here to help out.”

“It’s totally fine! We have twenty-four people and only one manager currently. How many does boys’ volleyball have? Huh, eight? So little. One per twenty-four people and one per eight, don’t you think that’s a weird ratio? We’re going to need three managers, you know? That’s why, please be our manager.”

“Look…you haven’t listened what I said at all, have you. I don’t know how you think that logic is going to convince me.”

When he went to the gym, he immediately came across a scene of a row of four muscular boys were sitting on their heels and making supplications to one girl. The girl they were supplicating to was the second-year Suemori, who came as a helper from the girls’ volleyball team.

For today’s practice, it was arranged that the two teams would each use one half of the court. The teams were Oda’s Team F and Team B, which had the corps from the aforementioned rugby team. The rugby team was the third great power among the boys’ sports clubs in the school after the soccer and baseball teams, but because rugby wasn’t included in the events of the school’s ballgame tournament, they appeared to have discovered their raison d’etre in the ballgame tournament by dispatching members to each event and having them run wild. As if to tout their club, all four of them were wearing those characteristic horizontally-striped shirts, and the pattern made their upper bodies look even squarer and burlier. I’m pretty sure the temperature in the gym went up one or two degrees because of those four… Though it was already the season of high humidity, it really was sweltering in there.

“This isn’t the time for scouting. Scram.”

Oda raised his voice and cut in front of Suemori.

“Suemori is our important charge from girls’ volleyball. If anything happens to her while she’s with us, I’ll get throttled by them. If you wanna poach her, talk it over with the girls’ volleyball captain.”

“Aaah? What’s your problem?”

One person among the four talked back in a boorish voice. His height approached Aoki’s when he stood, and unlike Aoki, he had a width and thickness, so his weight was completely different. He felt a feeling of oppression like he was being crushed just from standing in front of him.

This man was a second-year from the rugby club, Okuma.

“This ain’t the place for a first-year runt to show up. Get outta here.”

The moment he said that, his temple started convulsing, but it would never end if he flared up at every single thing.

“I’m the captain for boys’ volleyball, Oda from 3-F. I’m in charge today.”

“Heh? A third-year? You serious?”

Okuma’s eyes widened, and he confirmed with Suemori over Oda’s head instead of with Oda himself. Standing in a position to protect Suemori, she was taller than him. Oda’s existence was no obstacle for Okuma.

When they were convinced that he was really an upperclassman, Okuma and the other three changed their attitude more or less, and they followed his orders without disturbing the progress. First, the two teams took the time for a joint orientation. There were three to five students from each grade per team. There would be no more than twenty-five people in two teams. Three times the usual number of eyes during regular club practice watched him and listened to him seriously. He was a little nervous and cleared his throat several times.

He didn’t see Haijima there. He wondered if the positions were assigned just for the sake of adjusting the numbers. If that was the case, then excepting Suemori who was a girl, Oda was the only one who had volleyball experience between these two teams.

In the volleyball division of the ballgame tournament, all six teams would be divided into two groups of three teams, and after a round-robin competition within the group, the first-place team in each group would play the deciding round. The group league had a total of six games, and adding the deciding round, that would make a total of seven games. The regular rule was to get twenty-five points first, but they eased that so that it was now a three-set match where the team that got fifteen points first won. Although, if they were to pull off seven games without a hitch, it was going to be a dizzying day for them on the management side.

“I’m sure we’ve all did it before in gym, so you’re alright with the basics, right? The rotations might feel complicated, but well, don’t take fouls down to the smallest detail, just three people in the front row and three in the back, and make sure to serve in the right order. Once you got it, you’ll be divided into teams to practice. I’m in Team F, and Suemori’s in B, so take a look. If there’s anything, call us immediately.”

“Hey, Captain!” Okuma raised his hand when he was about to tell them to split up.

“I’m not your captain, but…what?”

“It’s boring to practice separately. B and F should play a game. I think that’ll help us learn the flow of the game better.”

“A sudden game?”

Is he the type who loves playing games but hates practice? Oda didn’t like people who neglected basic practice. He frowned and said, “You can play games on the day of the tournament. Why do I have to teach your team our plays?”

“You don’t mind showing just a little, do you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna lose to a bunch of rookies like us? You can jump about two meters, right Captain? If you can’t do that much, then we’d be able to knock you down without jumping.”

I thought he’d become obedient, but he was thinking about things like that…I’m not going to be taken in by such a cheap provocation. I should just ignore it and move to practice as planned. He was thinking that, but he couldn’t help but feel a boiling feeling at the pit of his stomach. No, Aoki’s not here today, so I have to be the one to keep calm.

“Senpai, let’s do it. Why don’t we just do one set?”

Right when he was working hard to restrain himself, he was unexpectedly spurred on. He turned around in surprise and Suemori was standing firm with an expression that was even more indignant than Oda’s.

“Suemori-san, you sure are brave. I want you to be our manager more and more.”

Suemori gave a sharp glare at a grinning Okuma before whispering into Oda’s ear. “Oda-senpai, aren’t you angry? I can’t stand it. Making fun of volleyball…Let’s break his nose.”

“No, even if you say that…”

“If you don’t have confidence in yourself, then I’ll join.”

Suemori started taking off her jersey on the spot, so he immediately stopped her with “Wait. It’s better for me to play than you.”

His voice was a grade lower, becoming insecure. Suemori’s face immediately reddened and she looked down, saying “No…sorry.” I might have said it too harshly. But, more than being made fun of by an amateur like Okuma, my pride was hurt by the fact that I was even looked down on by someone from girls’ volleyball.

He did have confidence. He wasn’t about to be beaten by an amateur who was just huge. He honestly even agreed with the idea of knocking him down a peg. However, it would be a problem if a girl was put in and got injured. Although Okuma was an amateur at volleyball, he was an athlete who did ball sports, and there was an insurmountable wall between men and women in the power of the ball.

But, it was true that there wasn’t even anyone who could set by themselves. If there was just one more person with experience in Team F…

…We do.

The figure entered the corner of his field of vision as though it was timed. They were standing at the entrance to the gym with a suspicious face, perhaps feeling that there was something off—Haijima.

“Suemori…can you go get Kanno?”

“Huh?”

A dispirited Suemori raised her head and blinked.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The reason he called Kanno was trivial, he just wanted him to be the referee. Suemori was in charge of displaying the points. It would only be one set where the first to get fifteen points won. If he considered this a sideshow, then this would be a good amount of time to devote to it.

He looked at Haijima, who was doing some light stretching in front of the net. Anyways, it was a piece of good luck that he was able to pull him up to the court before he could say anything…he might have to thank Okuma for that.

There were many people present in their gym jerseys, but Haijima’s equipment gave him a different vibe from the amateurs. He wore long underpants that reached his ankles beneath black shorts, short socks, and volleyball shoes that looked worn in. That Mizuno was the same model as Kuroba’s. And the taping that was tightly wrapped around the fingers of both his hands gave off an aura of something different.

When he thought that he had a different impression of his face than when he saw him in the school building, it was due to the presence of his glasses.

I see, so he switches to contacts when he’s playing.

When he was in his school uniform and wearing his glasses, he had the impression of a moody, literary-type of boy, but now suddenly he seemed like an athlete. There were also sports glasses, but sports glasses for volleyball inevitably took the shape of goggles due to the nature of the sport, and perhaps because it narrowed the field of vision and honestly didn’t look good, but Oda had never seen a high schooler use them.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t had much good will towards Haijima after the April incident. It wasn’t that he hated him, but he was completely in the category of people he didn’t like dealing with. It was creepy that he couldn’t read what he was thinking about at all, even now. A simply neutral expression with no enthusiasm or nervousness. I wonder what kind of play would actually be created by standing on the same court as this guy. Oda was the one who was made considerably more nervous.

However, on the other hand, he also felt excitement. ——He was looking forward to it.

“Then, the person doing the serve receive should try to return it to Haijima as much as possible. That’s our setter, Haijima.”

The other four people on the court are have some experience from gym class. He decided to try using them all first while alternating them.

“Haijima, are you fine with being the setter? Are you up for it? You haven’t done it for a while.”

Haijima, who was relaxing his shoulders, gave him a sideways glance and looked offended.

“What’s your highest jump reach height?”

He was suddenly asked a straight-to-the-point question. Without asking about the circumstances that led to this match, without saying a word of greeting like “Sorry I’m late” or “I’ll be in your care,” that was the first thing out of his mouth after he came here.

“For spikes, these days it’s 315.”

“You can jump for someone of your height.”

Haijima said and narrowed his eyes. It was a completely disparaging tone, but wait, was I praised just now? I feel like asking someone to interpret for me.

The height he could reach after doing a run-up and jumping was the highest point for a spike jump. In Oda’s case, his finger height (the height he could reach with his hand while standing) was 215 centimeters, so his spike jump was up to one meter. The two meters Okuma instigated with was of course an impossible figure—the height for a male high school volleyball player would be from around 70 to 90 centimeters. He thought that one meter was a figure to be considerably proud of.

From the start, Team B had three rugby team members in the three front row positions. He wasn’t sure if they were thinking up their own strategy where they were going to knock down the first of their attacks with a block and kill their momentum.

Kanno, who found himself in the role of chief referee, blew the whistle, and the game started with Team B’s serve. Since the server was an amateur, it was a simple underhand serve. However, because their receivers were also amateurs, it was difficult for them to cleanly return it to the setter, and the ball was greatly repelled.

Oda was about to jump out to cover for them, but…

…What!?

Haijima was already underneath the ball. So fast!? He didn’t just move fast. His reading of the ball’s course was fast as well. While in an overhand stance, his eyes swiftly scanned the entire court and he signalled Oda with his eyes for a moment. Oda, who had unintentionally stopped in his tracks, quickly rushed to the front of the net. A set was released from Haijima’s fingers with much faster timing that he expected. He was sure he didn’t make such a fast set when he saw him at the prefecturals. It was a confident set from a distance where normally a safe four set would be the only way to go.

So fast—no, rather than fast, what’s with that trajectory!?

He managed to reach up in the midair and hit it with his hand. He didn’t exactly hit the ball squarely, but the three blockers that marked Oda didn’t keep up with him at all.

The ball fell to Team B’s court over the head of the blocker who only jumped halfway. Oda himself felt like he was bewitched, and he landed with the pit of his stomach feeling somewhat weightless.

The view was wonderful. He could see the opposing court, which was usually always blocked by a wall, well. It wasn’t every day he got the chance to spike over the head of a tall blocker, so he had completely forgotten—was going over a block this exhilarating? He felt ticklish on the inside. He felt good…

With a backwards glance at the astonished opposing team, Oda ran up to Haijima.

“Oi, what’s with that set?”

Even so, it was a complaint that came out of his mouth first. He had just barely kept up, but it wouldn’t be strange if he had struck and missed.

“I can’t hit anything if you just set it without warning.”

“That one just now was lower than 315. As expected, I’m rusty from not playing for a while. My perception is dull.”

Haijima said, tilting his head to the side as though he wasn’t satisfied. He was going to make me hit it at three-one-five because I said that was the highest point I could jump? Is he a demon?

“It’s the same with the height, but it’s more a problem of timing. There’s no way I can hit the ball at that tempo if I don’t have anything to match.”

The basic set was called an open set, and the attacker must time the ball as it rose high and fell in a parabolic path and hit it. A spike that is hit at the slowest timing was called a third tempo.

Even so, Haijima’s set was a set that made the attacker hit the ball at the peak of the parabola. As a result, the trajectory towards the hitting point was short, in other words, “fast.” From the point of view of an attacker, it looked like it was flying “directly” at them. The attacker was pulling off the transcendental thing of smashing in the top of the set at the moment they swung at the highest point, but there were many demands on the attacker’s part as well. What kind of nerve did this guy have to set something like that to someone he’s matching with for the first time?

Haijima looked away from Oda, who was snapping at him, and looked as though he had lost interest in something.

“Kuroba can hit it.”

I see, I couldn’t see that high-speed setting at the middle school prefecturals because Kuroba wasn’t there?—His competitiveness was slowly rearing its head. Do you expect me to keep quiet when I’m told that me, a third-year, can’t hit what a first-year can? I know he can evade high blocks at that speed. If he could make that hitting position and speed into a thing…

“…It’s fine. Don’t change what you’re doing. I’ll match you with all I got next time.”

Haijima blinked, and then let out a short breath and squinted his eyes. …He laughed? Maybe?

“Senpai, it’s your team’s serve. You’ll be taking a delay penalty.”

Kanno called out to him in a mild voice. The rotation turned once, and then it was Haijima’s serve.

“You don’t need to match me. I’ll be the one matching you. You seem like you still have a lot more in you, so could you please give a little more? You can go up to about 320, right?”

Calmly leaving that extremely brazen and shameless statement, Haijima turned on his heel and walked to the service zone.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

His initial goal of breaking Okuma’s competitive spirit was blown out of his mind. He wanted to get Haijima to acknowledge him. That was all he could think about starting from midway through the match. He was so absorbed in it that he even forgot that this was practice for the ballgame tournament and was very ashamed to find out later that Kanno and Suemori were supporting the first-timers from off the court. It was a bad habit of his to lose sight of his surroundings when he got passionate. He had his hands full with what was before his eyes.

“Haijima, next time you get a chance, send it to the center.”

In the final stage of the set, the back row demanded a back row attack from Haijima. He was thinking of that high-speed center back Kuroba tried to show on his first day joining the club. If Kuroba could do it, then he wanted to do it himself as well.

“Oi, ref! Ain’t that what they call a delay? They’re just whispering to each other over there. That’s a foul, a foul!”

Okuma raised his voice from the other side of the net. He seemed to be pretty irritated with getting fouls many times when blocking. It was Haijima who incorporated the ingenious technique of playing right at the edge of the net to tempt his opponent into reaching over the net or touching it. He truly was a frightening first-year.

The B-team’s court got the serve, and Okuma jumped to spike it with a beast-like roar. However, Haijima moved in front of it with nimble steps and blocked it. Oi oi…Oda grumbled in his mind. Is he fully ready to end the game with block points? I just said that I wanted to do a back-row attack. Read the room.

Okuma was taller, but Haijima stopped the course with the precise way he moved his arms. It was a form he wanted to use as a model for first-years who were bad at blocking.

Oh…I’m looking at someone who has received the favor of volleyball up close right now… He was given every sense from the god of volleyball…

Thump. A different sound from the sound of a ball being hit was heard. From Oda’s position, it was a blind spot, so he couldn’t immediately grasp what had happened.

Rather than landing on the floor, Haijima dropped. Kanno immediately blew the foul whistle.

“Haijima!”

He rushed over to him in fright. Haijima was pressing his hand near his right eye, squatting and gritting his teeth. Was it his eye? His forehead? Kanno and Suemori also ran over, and the court was in disorder for a short while.

“Hey, what the hell were you doing? This isn’t rugby!”

He barked across the net, blood rushing to his head. Okuma made excuses with a slightly frightened look on his face.

“It, it wasn’t on purpose, captain. I only hit him by accident.”

“Don’t lie to me. If anything happens to our members, I’ll make you…”

“Senpai. I think he’s probably telling the truth. It wasn’t intentional. Please calm down. I was watching.”

He was clenching his fists and half-rising to his feet, but Kanno held down his shoulders. Admonished calmly by his kouhai, he reluctantly got back down while clenching his teeth.

“I’m fine…My contact just slipped.”

Haijima slowly got up. His voice was somewhat hoarse, but his articulation was clear. Oda was relieved that it didn’t seem serious.

“I’m removing myself from the game. Ow…”

After Haijima staggered out of the gym while pressing his hand against his right eye, the atmosphere immediately became like the closing of a performance. The decision was that Team B committed a foul, and Team F won 15-10, but they didn’t really care about winning or losing anymore.

The turmoil from the trouble caused everyone to lose concentration, so they decided to call off the rest of practice today. Oda’s concentration was more scattered than anyone else’s. He was in a position where he had to have more composure, but the role of captain was something that he was unequal to from the start. I don’t have the qualities to lead a team, I’m just selfish, I just…wanted to be a hitter. I just like getting to a place as high as possible above people and making them surrender.

The pleasure of being in a duo with Haijima still lingered. It was a feeling like a slight numbness that spread from the core of his body to his right fingertips.

I want him—A small but concentrated amount of fuel was thrown down onto his feelings of tiredness after losing in the prefectural tournament.

Practice was cut early and they dispersed, with Okuma and the rest of the rugby corps also leaving. When he was looking at the court thinking that it suddenly cooled down when those guys were gone, he saw Haijima standing before the net, staring fixedly up at it for some reason.

“Are you feeling okay? If you still feel like something’s off, go get it checked out. If you don’t know the hospitals around here, I’ll go with you.”

“I’m pretty familiar with it.”

“You don’t see rough play like that in volleyball a lot, do you?”

“No, I mean outside.”

“…?” Oh, he means outside the court? Hey, you need complete your sentences over here to have the conversation connect well.

In his case, no matter how you think about, the way he speaks is causing trouble. It’s no wonder Aoki went off at me about inviting him—he got him to lay a hand, I mean, foot on him.

“This is 2.43, eh.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah it is, how did you notice? I told them to put it up at 2.4 since we’re not doing club practice today… I guess we’d been playing at 2.43 all day.”

At the ballgame tournament, the boys would be playing with the net at 2.40 meters. The same height as the official matches within the prefecture. When it came to tournaments that were above prefecture-level like regional and national tournaments, they were treated the same as general boy’s volleyball at 2.43 meters.

“Do you usually practice at 2.43?”

“Yeah, it’ll be at this height for Spring Inter-High, anyways.”

Haijima gave him a sideways glance, looking slightly shocked.

Following Inter-High in the summer and Nationals in the fall, the tournament that filled in the last piece of the three major national volleyball competitions was “Spring Inter-High Volleyball”. This tournament, which was held in a particularly spectacular manner among the three major competitions, was a grand stage that could be compared to Koshien for high schoolers who played volleyball (as for Oda, he didn’t want to use this metaphor. Even if you didn’t use baseball as a reference, Spring Inter-High was still Spring Inter-High). It used to be held in March but has now been moved to January, so third-years could participate as well, making it the last tournament that all three school years to face together.

Even at Spring Inter-High, the net was 2.40 meters at the prefectural qualifiers, but 2.43 meters at the main national competition in Tokyo.

“Is it funny? A tiny team like us talking about Spring Inter-High. That might be so, but I don’t think I said anything embarrassing.”

Even if people would think he was conceited, Oda was serious. If Haijima joined their current members, it wouldn’t be a pipe dream in the least. It was a realistic goal.

Haijima’s eyes returned to the net again.

“…I think that kind of thing is okay.”

He muttered. He stretched one hand and touched the top tape of the net. 2.43 meters was, if one were to give an easy-to-understand example, about the height of the ceiling in a house. For the 163 centimeters Oda, it wasn’t a place he could reach just by stretching himself. He envied his ease with which he could put his fingers on it and, it might sound strange, to fix his eyes upon it.

“Is this…the height for Spring Inter-High?”

Oh, he smiled… His face was purely radiant, a complete change from the previous arrogance and impudence, and he was shocked to see that he could make an expression like that. It was by no means a frank and open smile. Like a strong light covered by a thin curtain and gently diffusing through it…it overlapped with Kuroba’s face when he looked up at the same thing with sparkling eyes on the first day of practice in April, even though the vectors were completely different.

His feeling that Haijima would be hard to deal with had, before he knew it, faded through the match.

“Hey, you know, I had a great time playing with you today. You had a little fun too, didn’t you?”

“Oda-san has good reflexes.”

Unused to hearing himself be called “Oda-san,” he felt itchy. What’s more, he was using standard Japanese, so it was like he was being addressed from the TV. But, it’s nice, being called that by him.

“What you don’t have in height, you make up for with being athletic. You have power too. Stretching your body in midair, I like that.”

Even though he lambasted him two months ago, he easily reversed that and acknowledged him. Is he arrogant or honest…what a weird guy.

Just as I thought, rather than trying to do something with words, it might be better to invite him to the court first. What the hell, I feel kinda happy when I’m acknowledged by him… Pride filled his chest. He was able to believe that he hadn’t been continuing to do something meaningless.

“Will you join us, Haijima? It’ll be boring if you wanna do it by yourself. You chose volleyball for the ballgame tournament too, right?” There was no doubt that he continued to practice even though he wasn’t a part of the club. There was no way a guy who had a gap period since last summer could move like that.

He expected him to nod, but Haijima dropped his gaze to the court at his feet with a sullen look on his face. His childish action of poking at the ground with the toe of his shoe made Oda feel impatient and irritated. There was also envy. Why the hell is a guy who, unlike me, can just go on with volleyball without thinking about anything, hesitating here?

“I’m sure you’ll change your mind, Oda-san. I’m not very well liked. As long as I’m a setter…”

——“Why are you clinging to that position?”

It suddenly occurred to Oda that those words that were spat at him before might not have been contempt towards him.

Is it possible that it’s something Haijima himself has been thinking about…? Even the personification of volleyball sense who seems like he was chosen by the god of volleyball thinks that way?

“Hmm? Why are you guys hiding?”

Suemori’s voice echoed in the quiet gym.

Suemori and Kanno, who had spread out a piece of construction paper in a corner of the gym and working hard on creating a records chart, looked up and turned their heads to the doorway. The two heads that were peeking in from the shadow of the iron door shook with a start.

“Did you guys come to help clean up? If that’s the case, hurry up.”

Suemori briskly stood up, and Kanno followed quietly. Though the two timidly showed themselves, they stopped at the door like they had trouble getting in. It was Kuroba and Nagato. The air Haijima wore around him instantly stiffened. Were they all from the same middle school volleyball team?

“Senpai, is it true that Haijima is joining the club?”

It was Nagato who asked that. His face was unwelcoming without even having to say it aloud. He pulled on Kuroba’s elbow as if to tell him to say something as well, but he looked away with an ambiguous look on his face.

“I’d like to have him join. I’m in the middle of persuading him, though. If there’s something bothering you, speak up.”

Oda didn’t really hide his ill humor, and he raised his voice to highlight his captain’s dignity. One of Oda’s biggest aggravations was the behaviour of trying to get rid of people in a roundabout way.

“I’m not joining, so don’t worry.”

However, Haijima himself interjected from the side. His tone, which had begun to soften, had returned to being curt again. “I don’t think I’m obligated to join in the cleanup,” he rudely excused himself and turned towards the metal door without bowing. It was towards the other metal door, clearly avoiding Kuroba and Nagato. Oda wanted to tear off his head, as just when he thought he closed the distance a little, he was back to square one.

“I understand Nagato’s point of view. What about you, Kuroba?”

“Huh?”

Kuroba jumped and took on a posture of caution.

“I…I…”

He awkwardly peeking sideways at Haijima, and then cast his eyes down, looking a little bit like he was about to cry. Even though he was so big, he sometimes made expressions like those of an elementary school student, much less a middle school student. Haijima, who had stopped for a moment, started walking again. It was at a quicker pace than before.

After that gangly body disappeared behind the metal doors, Nagato opened his mouth as though he couldn’t bear to wait for that.

“Oda-senpai doesn’t know anything. If Haijima joins, then Yuni really won’t participate in any official games. In a way, we lost that other time because of Haijima…”

“Ryo, stop it. I told you that has nothing to do with it.”

With his face bright red, Kuroba stopped Nagato. However, his voice was weak and it didn’t sound like he was seriously denying it.

Making his voice stern, Oda asked them a question.

“What do you mean?”

Previous || Index || Next

[365text]

{ 2020 quarantine challenge :: day 1 } how i plan my days + my “study” schedule

basically a wEek in the LiFe of a bErkEley (graduating) senior + deep dive into how i plan and remember each day i spend in quarantine while still attending ~*zoom university*~ !! yeet

• an introduction •

because i spend a lot of time online, i find that my google calendar is the quickest and easiest way for me to manage my time !! though i use my planner / bullet journal on a daily basis to manage my TODOs (+ to journal), i find that gcal gives me the best flexibility and efficiency when it comes to actually planning out and scheduling my day!

the fact that i can check it on my phone while i’m on the go (hurray @ integration across devices) also helped a lot when i was still on-campus and didn’t have the ability to take out my planner from my backpack. and even now in quarantine, when i don’t want to be on my laptop, i can just quickly glance at whatever mobile device to see what i need to do next!

but ya, here comes a (very long) breakdown of how i use this system to keep my days goin’ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ 

(1) color coding + customizations

i am, as many of my friends have pointed out, an aggressive color-coder 👀 i just really like to be able to look at my calendar at the start of the day and have a good idea of what kind of things i need to take care of! to go through my separate calendars/categories in (reverse) order:

bright red (tests) || to remind me when my exams are, not that i’d forget 🤪

light gray (school) || all things school related! classes, student orgs, meetings, etc.

bright blue (teaching duties) || class i’m a TA for

dark blue (csm, aka more teaching) || student org i’m a part of

orange (exercise) || everything health + wellness related

yellow (events) || all my non-school related Events™ that i schedule (ie. socials, calls with friends, anything rly a step from a ~regular daily activity~)

maroon (chinese hw) || hw + projects assignment due dates

light green (daily) || my day-to-day activities

i like having separate categories correspond to colors that i associate with them too! bright red for alarm (exams lmao), light gray for school (muted, in the background hah), light green for daily (because it’s also more muted/in the background, but still prominent enough that i’ll notice it heh), and yellow for fun! events! (because it’s warm and cheerful). 

(2) separate calendars customization

most of my colors correspond to separate calendars, partially because it’s faster to create a color-coded event if you have it in a separate calendar! at least, it is on desktop heh. and also! i find that it’s easier to customize more things on an individual calendar basis:

notifications: each calendar/category has different notification settings. my “tests” calendar reminds me 1 week + 2 weeks in advance, "school” is just 10 min. in advance, whereas “daily” has no reminders at all! i customized these settings according to how often i felt like i needed help remember when certain things were.

colors (lol): in case it wasn’t obvious, colors matter a lot to me LOL. you can choose your own custom colors if it’s a separate calendar, and you can only use the google calendar default colors if you’re “recoloring” an existing calendar event.

display: it’s nice to also be able to toggle on/off various calendars!

but ya those are the main reasons why i use separate calendars instead of just recoloring the events in a single calendar!

(3) creating structure

because as a college student we usually have a good amount of free/flexible time, i find creating structure to be very important for me — and this is true for almost all students now during times in quarantine, when everything is kind of up in the air / go-at-your-own-pace. 

i feel like the nice thing about being a student is that we usually have repeating events, so i like to set recurring calendar events to help create a regular structure on a weekly basis. usually i sit down at the start of the semester with my schedule/syllabi and just add everything in one go. 

and now in quarantine, even if you aren’t given a schedule to follow and if working with a schedule is helpful for you, then creating that structure yourself is a nice way of adding consistency and stability back into your life :’)

the first calendar photo is how my gcal looks at the start of the week before any planning happens!

(4) time blocking

i once read that time blocking (re: setting aside chunks of time for a single task) is optimal for efficiency / mental energy. typically it’s easier for people to focus on one task for an extended period of time (with breaks) than it is to multitask or context-switch super often.

i also find that sometimes my schedule has weird gaps in it, due to the way my mandatory events are set up. so time blocking has helped me determine when i can get certain things done, or if i just wanna take a break in my awkward 30 min. gap between meetings!

the way that i time block is usually:

write in my planner all my (intended) TODOs + goals for the day

look at my calendar for the day + start planning when i’ll do which TODOs using my (default) calendar DAILY 

i only plan the day of in my google calendar, because things change and who knows how much i’ll actually get done ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯ also it’s a relaxing thing for me to sit there and journal/plan before i get started with my day hehe. a morning ritual, in a sense!

it also makes it a lot less stressful to look at my calendar, because i only ever look at the current day i’m on and what to do on that particular day. the interface of google calendar makes it really easy for me to drag events around and update time estimates as the day progresses too!

i also find it very useful for me to see what it’s actually possible to get done in my day, since sometimes my TODO list can be a lil’ too ambitious (oops 😋)

(5) daily logs + journaling

and lastly, i have some friends who have completely forgone their gcals since things moved online, but i have actually leaned on it even more —

one reason is all the stuff i listed above (structure, efficiency, also just habit at this point haha). but another really important reason to me is the logging that my gcal calendar creates! since i just spend every day at home, i feel like days were passing by a lot more quickly + in a blur, and by “writing down” everything i did/planned to do on gcal, i’m able to remember what i’ve been doing during these really interesting times o:

it helps me when i journal at the end of the day / the next morning, because i just look back at my gcal to reference what things i did, and then journal about how i felt about those activities.

• the ending •

aaaaand that’s it!

my super long documentation on how i’ve managed my time these past few years in college + in this 2020 quarantine era :’)

[therainroguefanfiction]

🎃 Frightful October Act I, #1 ~ Storm (Tetsuya Kuroko)

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Friendship, Fluff, Halloween, Autumn

Word Count: 2,157

Pairing: Reader x Kuroko

World: Kuroko no Basket

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“Okay, class, for this week’s assignment, you’re going to write a short story for Halloween!” The literature teacher clapped her hands excitedly as she stood at the front of the room. “You’ll be working in pairs and, no, you will not be choosing your own partners!”

There was a collective groan of disappointment, mostly from the girls.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. ‘It’s bad enough they force us to interact with other people in video games, now we gotta do it in person?’

She reached behind her desk, setting two black top hats on the smooth surface. “In this first hat are slips of paper with the entire classes names. In this second hat are slips of paper with prompts relating to Halloween in some way. We’re going to start with you, Yayoi.” She pointed at the bespectacled boy sitting in the front row by the window, then her finger cut across the air, following the row to the other side of the classroom. “We’ll finish the row with Matsuda and then move on to Aioi behind him.”

Following that pattern in your head. With five by five rows of desks, it formed the most messed up Z you had ever pictured, like two number 2s stacked on top of one another. You scrunched your nose up as you sketched it out on the corner of your notebook.

“If someone pulls your name, you don’t have to come up. We’ll just go to the next person. Come on up, Yayoi!”

You vaguely wondered if someone would pull your name before it got to you. You turned your gaze to the gray sky outside the window. The forecast had eluded to a thirty-percent chance of scattered showers in the afternoon and you hoped that chance increased.

“It’s your time, Ami.”

The girl that sat next to you stood up, cheerfully approaching the teacher’s desk.

‘Shit, who got me as a partner?’ your eyes scanned the class, but no one was paying you any mind. With a groan, you let your head slam down onto the desk, earning a weird look from those that sat near you. ‘Why is she forcing us to work in pairs, anyway? This is so stupid.’

The bell rang, signaling the start of lunch and the chatter in the room increased as people discussed their partners and the prompts they had gotten. You considered asking the teacher who you had been paired with, but then she would lecture you again for not paying attention.

“Y/N-san?”

You could always ask one of the other students, but you didn’t really interact with any of them unless you had to.

“Y/N-san…?”

You groaned again, rubbing your head frantically. Why did life have to be such a pain?

“Y/N-san.”

“Heh?” you blinked dumbly at the boy standing by your desk.

Kuroko stood there with a slip of paper in his hand, head tilted to the side as he watched you curiously. “Are you okay with starting on the project this afternoon?”

‘Oh, I guess he’s my partner. I don’t really know much about him, but he’s quiet and keeps to himself. That’s good.’ “Uh, sure. In the Library?”

He nodded, setting the slip of paper down on your desk. “I have practice after school, but if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll meet you there after.” he bowed before walking out of the room to go buy his lunch.

You picked up the slip of paper. “Vampires?” you scoffed. ‘That’s almost as cliche as – ‘

“Our topic is werewolves!”

Your head fell onto the desk, earning strange looks from your classmates.

───── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─────

When the final bell rang, you gathered your things. You weren’t part of any clubs, nor did you have anyone that you were close enough to hang out with after school so you just headed straight for the library.

The short path connecting the school building and the library was outdoors, covered by a tin roof. As soon as you stepped outside, you recognized the familiar pitter-patter of rain falling to the Earth. The hand that had been tightly clutching your bag immediately relaxed and you let go of the tension your shoulders were holding.

Rain always calmed you down.

While you were mostly annoyed at being forced to work with another person on the project, you also felt a bit nervous. Working together to write one story? Your mind pictured all of the ways that could go wrong. What if you couldn’t agree on anything?

You frowned as you pulled the library door open. ‘This place always feels like it’s in an alternate dimension or something.’ You glanced at the front desk, but the librarian was nowhere to be found. Maybe she had gone home earlier before the rain could set in.

Without thinking, you headed towards the back corner – you always sat there because it was hidden from most of the library – but you stopped short when a thought struck you. ‘If I sit there, he probably won’t see me. He might think I stood him up, but… I don’t really want to be the first thing people see when they enter, either,’ you groaned, squatting down as you ruffled your hair in frustration.

“Um… excuse me?”

“Eh?” you looked up in surprise. You hadn’t heard anyone approach.

“Are you… okay?” The librarian asked, softly, tilting her head. Marie Youko was a young woman in her mid-twenties with a mousy disposition. She always spoke softly and was kind to everyone she met, even those that didn’t give her the same courtesy. Her hair, chocolate brown in color, were set in two braids that sat on her shoulders. Her eyes were the same color.

You shot up straight, a bead of sweat rolling down your cheek. “Y-Yes, ma’am, I’m fine. Sorry.” You quickly bowed and speed walked to one of the tables near the back. It was in the direct line of sight of the doors, but it was the farthest table from it. You fell into the chair was a heavy sigh. ‘How long does practice typically last, anyway?’

You turned sideways in the chair so you could look out the window. The pace of the rain had steadily increased, covering the glass. Your eyes followed them as they descended, leaving streaks in their wake. ‘What is it, I wonder, that makes rain so relaxing for me. Even in my darkest days, rain makes me feel at peace. Are there others that feel the same?’

From what you’ve experienced, most people didn’t like the rain. It was annoying to them, ruining the hair they spent hours on and making their favorite pieces of clothing cling to their bodies like cellophane. For them, it was an inconvenience. They didn’t see it for what you did – a wonderful gift from mother nature.

You felt a presence behind you and turned, locking eyes with Kuroko who was pulling out the chair across from you. He was surprised that you had noticed him.

“Hello, Y/N-san,” he spoke softly.

“Is practice over already?”

He cocked his head to the side as he sat down. “Practice usually lasts longer than an hour, but I let them know you were waiting for me.”

‘An hour?’ you sat back in your chair, glancing at the clock on your phone. ‘I really need to stop zoning out so much.’

“Have you come up with any ideas, Y/N-san?”

‘Shit, I should’ve been working on that…’ “Um, a vampire steps out into the sun and everyone is horrified when he starts to sparkle?” you joked, immediately regretting it.

Kuroko tilted his head, not getting the reference. “That’s an… interesting idea.” He wrote it down in his notebook and you sweatdropped.

‘This kid is so serious…’ “That one was a joke, Kuroko-san…” he blinked at you and you clarified. “It’s the plot of a really bad movie. I, uh, I got distracted and didn’t think of anything, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he crossed out the idea before tapping his pencil against his chin, thoughtfully. “A love story would probably win over our class since the majority are girls.”

“That’s a good point, but I bet most of the girls are gonna pick romance.” ‘Plus I hate romance.’

“That’s true.”

Thunder shook the window behind you and you glanced back. “What about… a vampire with some weird disease that prevents him from biting anyone unless it’s raining? No, that’s stupid. The rainpire – every time he feeds, it starts raining? No no, that’s too weird. Instead of drinking blood, the rain nourishes him? That’s even worse!” You groaned, grabbing your head and frantically rubbing your hair. ‘All these ideas suck!’

Thunder boomed again and the lights flickered, making you both look up at the high ceiling.

“We should get home before the storm gets worse.”

You watched as he placed the notebook into his bag before standing up. ‘What the hell he actually wrote down all of those ideas?!’

He glanced over at you when you didn’t budge. “Are you not going home?”

“My brother is at work until tonight,” you answered with a shrug. ‘I would love to walk home in this weather, but my bro finds out, he’ll kill me. Worse than that, he’ll probably lecture me again!’

“I can ask my grandmother to drop you off.”

“Please don’t. It’s okay, really.” ‘If I came home with a stranger, he’d be even angrier.’

Kuroko nodded, sitting back down. “I’ll stay with you, then.”

“What, why?” you questioned in surprise.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone,” he answered simply.

The words made your heart skip a beat, cheats warming up. You quickly coughed loudly, turning back to the window. “You don’t have to force yourself, I like being alone.”

“I’m not forcing myself,” Kuroko pulled the book back out from his bag. “It’s dangerous to be alone during a storm, and if you’re going to stay anyway, we can continue working on the project. Did you have any more ideas?”

You turned your head, looking into his clear blue eyes. Ever since he joined the basketball team, a lot of students had begun talking about Kuroko. Typically you ignored gossip, but it was difficult when those that sat close to you in class talked about him. No one really knew anything about him, though. They called him a shadow, a boy with no presence, but no one spent any time with him so they didn’t talk about his kindness.

“Kuroko-san?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

That was the first time you had seen him smile and it warmed your heart. You wanted to befriend him, get closer to him.

A loud boom of thunder made you nearly jump out of your skin. The windows rattled so hard, you wondered if they would break. The lights flickered again before turning off, leaving the large room in darkness.

You grabbed your phone, bumping up the brightness of the screen before setting it down. It gave off a small cone of light around you. “I wonder how many students are still here,” you squinted in the darkness, but couldn’t see very far. The pounding of the rain outside covered up any movement in the room.

“Probably not that many,” he answered.

You leaned back in your chair, tapping your fingers across the table. “What about a vampire that gets locked in a library on a stormy night?”

His eyes widened a bit and he scribbled on the paper. “That’s a really good idea. Let’s go with that.”

“We have to make it interesting, though. Let’s say that he’s not alone, there’s someone else hidden in the library!”

“Why are they hidden?”

“Why?” you hummed, eyes narrowed at the notebook. The pencil hovered over the paper, waiting for more of your ideas. “She’s a… vampire hunter! Or maybe a vampire enthusiast?”

Lightning struck, the light shining onto your back through the window.

“A vampire hunter that is secretly a vampire enthusiast?”

“Ooo, that’s juicy. We can make it a comedy,” you leaned forward, slapping your palms on the table. “She sees him and falls in love with the fact that he’s a vampire, but he thinks she’s crazy!”

The storm continued well into the night, but you both continued brainstorming ideas. Your brother had called you at ten-thirty, worried sick that you hadn’t returned home yet. He insisted on coming to pick you up, but you worried about him driving in the bad weather so you convinced him to wait until it calmed down.

It was just after midnight when the rain started to slow. Kuroko had a few pages full of ideas and plot points, and he said that he would try and write up the start of the story for you to go over together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N-san.”

You smiled at him, watching as he climbed into his family’s car. Light drops of rain fell on your head as you approached your brother’s car, sliding into the passenger seat.

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