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spice-chan · 4 years ago

Text

Legally Incapsulated

yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader

In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling.

warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity.

also hi, i came back from the undead with an update.

.........

Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.

What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning.

A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it.

His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog.

With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him.

You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool.

“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna be ok.”

He sure hopes he will be now.

“What’s your name?”

Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze.

You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV.

“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice.

And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you.

So pretty.

Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul.

But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured.

“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further.

“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.”

His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express.

You’re a darling.

You’re someone’s darling.

By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…

But not for long.

……………...

Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere.

Classification: Protective

Darling: Unregistered

In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy.

Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split.

Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room.

“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind.

You.

Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now?

No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious.

He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief.

When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from.

They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes.

Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction.

And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed.

And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself.

…………..

Y/N L/N: Darling

Under yandere of classification: Obsessive

Yandere name: Nagisa Mura

Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him.

Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could.

After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you.

A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens.

He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you.

He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name.

No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point.

And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin.

………………

Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away.

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded.

“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing.

“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.”

He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues.

“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister.

You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower.

“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.”

Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time.

Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace.

“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face.

“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?”

But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable.

“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes.

He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food.

The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you.

The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless.

He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early.

But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright…

You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time.

Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you.

You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…

…….

Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with.

Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours.

Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart.

Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go?

But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok.

The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost.

His cheeks were flaming hot.

Whatever, he better start preparing your room.

…….

It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.

Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet.

Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear.

Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it…

He wishes you were here to see it…

An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here.

He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches

……..

A day later

You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime.

A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone.

He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa.

He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet.

He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss.

Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you.

He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…

“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.”

He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening.

“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do.

“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again.

“Well you thought wrong. Scum”

Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize.

Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago.

Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare.

“(Y/n)...how does he know you?”

“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he?

The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile.

“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong.

And your gut was right.

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear.

However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you.

The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind.

“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal?

“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.”

You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years.

The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare.

Now it was just him and you.

“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you.

You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok?

You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals.

Of course you weren’t ok.

You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob.

Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle.

You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly.

Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth.

“Stop crying.”

Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it?

Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate?

You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful?

At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa.

You blushed.

……

You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed.

The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly.

You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place.

Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look.

His hand felt warm on your back.

“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.”

Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace.

“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be.

The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud.

“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out.

You hummed to him in response.

“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.”

“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest.

“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“

“Sleep now, questions later.”

The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form.

“Um-?”

“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?

But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep.

…..

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused.

“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.”

Oh, right, you were living with him now.

“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed.

“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.”

He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom.

…….

In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far?

If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though.

You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took.

You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it.

Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before.

The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you.

The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied.

Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it.

You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush.

“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause.

“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights.

Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much.

“I’m a pro hero.”

Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense.

“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you.

“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?”

Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it.

“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you.

You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you.

“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?

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musings-sans-muse · 5 years ago

Text

Back Home

Summary: Henry comes back after a long time away from home.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,133

A/N: Thanks to: @buckysknifecollection 's "A face in need of smooches" and @interestedbystanderwrites ’ 12 Days of Christmas Drabbles - Day 1. Their work inspired me to write this little fluffy thing. Also and especially a huge thank you to the lovely @shellbilee for being my editor. Ily all as the incredible human beings you are and your work has been very inspirational to me.

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❤️❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

It was cold and damp, as London usually was this time of year. He was exhausted, having spent most of the month touring the world to promote his show.

No matter how passionate about the project he was, or how incredible it was to see how much support he had from his fans, or how amazing traveling around the world on someone else's dime was, the schedule had been brutal. The jetlag was even more so, and at the moment, he felt like he could spend the rest of his life without seeing a journalist, photographer or screaming fan. Alas, his contractual duties were still not done.

Hearing the booming bark from the sidewalk as he stepped out of the car hired to drop him home, he opened a smile, anticipating the "party" Kal would be throwing him as he opened the door.

The first thing he noticed as he entered the house and put his luggage on the floor, was the delicious smell.

Kal wouldn't let him advance further than the hall, so he took advantage of his position - pinned to the floor by the massive bear on top of him, and took in the decorated state of his living room.

The tree was fully trimmed with his old ornaments, and a few he did not recognize. There had been no wreath on the door, so he was pleasantly surprised to see how beautiful everything looked inside.

Practically a metaphor for his private life.

Finally catching a break from all the love Kal thought was overdue to be shared, he took off and hung his coat, before walking further into the house.

Stopping at the kitchen door he only observed.

He had expected to find her there. Earphones blasting - he was tired of telling her she'd be deaf in her old age, with her back to him, elbows deep in dough, her hands kneading it gently. There was probably a batch in the oven, and on the table, lay two containers of already decorated gingerbread cookies.

He approached slowly and carefully put his hands on either side of her hips as he planted a kiss on her neck, exposed by the hair pinned high on her head.

He chuckled as she jumped in surprise, his hot breath fanning gently over her skin.

"Holy... don't do that." she admonished.

He took the earphones out of her ears, setting them on the counter next to her and returned his hand to her hip.

"I would have said 'honey, I'm home' but the blaring music wouldn't let you hear me anyway. I missed you."

"I missed you more." She said turning her head slightly and allowing him to kiss her deeply.

"I have to finish these. Why don't you go take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes. I need your help later." She said as she returned to her task.

"Are we feeding gingerbread to an army?" He asked on his way out of the kitchen.

"No, but you did promise your brother we'd spend Christmas there. Your nephews alone will decimate the all cookies I have so far in under two minutes."

"True." He said with a frown, "I had forgotten." He turned to leave but turned back, causing her to look curiously at him.

"Does that mean that there will be more cooking, and that I'll have very little time with you?". His bashful look made her smile.

"Just during the day. It's not like you'll have a lot of time for me either. Perhaps after Norton we'll be freer to really get reacquainted, Mr. Cavill."

"Oh, if not, we'll have a row madam."

"Understood, sir."

****

After a much needed shower, a walk with Kal in much more comfortable clothes than he had been allowed to wear in a while, and bringing curry from his favourite takeaway home so they wouldn't have to cook that night, he helped her put the clean dishes away, took her by the hand and led her to the sofa.

Glasses of wine on the coffee table, and Kal sleeping by the radiator, he was truly content to be back home, and her fingers raking his scalp only adding to the feeling of being where he really belonged. Home.

"You said earlier that you needed my help. What can I do for you love?"

"The tree." She replied, humming softly. "I can't put the star up there."

"After decorating the whole house," he said with a broad smile "it's the least I can do."

On top of the ladder, he'd almost finished securing the star to the top of the tree, as she stood below holding the base of the ladder for him.

"I kept seeing post after post from your fans, thirsting after your ass. I was jealous at first, I must admit." She paused and grinned, feeling his eyes on her.

He frowned, amused, and nodded for her to continue.

"I can't blame them. It's a damn fine ass."

He thought he'd fall off that ladder as he shook with laughter. He held himself on the top rung as he reined it in and finished putting the star on the tree.

He was still smiling when he stepped down from the ladder and wrapped her in his arms.

"Thank you love! Good to know my fans aren't wrong or defaming me. And it confirms your excellent taste." He touched his index finger to the tip of her nose. She scrunched her nose and he dipped to kiss her.

He didn't stop kissing her until her calves hit the sofa and she half fell half sat on it. Not letting go of his hand, she pulled him down over her after adjusting to lay comfortably.

Inches apart and eyes locked, he felt his heart stutter as he took her face in. Not the models people kept pairing him with, or the people he'd seen on polls on websites. But a beautiful woman, a human being who saw him as another human being, and still loved him, despite his very human flaws, which the world would never know.

She kissed the tip of his nose, pulling him out of his reverie. Then she kissed his lips, the apple of this left cheek, then the one on the right, the center of his forehead, then the right and the left. Then she nibbled at his left jaw moving towards his chin, dragging her lips from there to his.

"I love you, Mr. Cavill, and I missed you quite a bit." Her lips never left his and her hot breath, so close to his mouth, caused shivers to run down his spine.

"Madam," He said before kissing her deeply, his tongue massaging hers until he heard her quietly whimpering, "God only knows how good it feels to be back home."

#henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill drabble #drabble #one shot #surprise

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aswithasunbeam · 5 years ago

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November 1804

Alexander shoved the newspaper aside roughly, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the bed beside him. His hopes for the Federalists to sweep the Northeast in the election were quickly being dashed. Another four years of Jefferson loomed before them, a disheartening, not to mention dangerous, result.

Coughing weakly, he fought to push his weight up further against the pillows. His muscles were still shaky and weak from his long bout of illness, but he was recovering steadily. Hosack had felt confident enough in his recovery to start exercising his legs again during his last visit, and the doctor had recommended more upper body exercise as well. “You might even be able to lift yourself into your chair and propel yourself around, with some effort,” Hosack had suggested. The possibility of reclaiming some independence was enough to encourage him to test himself more.

A shrill scream cut through the quiet afternoon. Angelica, he identified immediately. She sounded close, just in the parlor behind him.

Without thought, he reached for the wheelchair beside him, pulling himself across the bed in a desperate bid to get to his daughter. The chair lurched forward from the force of his weight, and the loss of support sent him crashing to the hard floor, his legs thumping down uselessly behind him. He growled in frustration, thumping the chair with his fist and sending it careening even further away.

“There’s a face! A hideous face!” Angelica was sobbing hysterically.

Eliza raced by the open door to his room, slid to a stop, and doubled back, gaping at him. He waved the hand not holding him off the floor towards the parlor. “Go. Go to Geli.”

She looked torn.

“Go,” he insisted.

Her lips drew into a thin, concerned line, but she obeyed.

“Angelica? What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he heard Eliza asking.

“There! Just there! The devil’s in the mirror,” Angelica cried. “See how he grins?”

“There’s nothing in the mirror, honey. Only our reflections.”

“He’s there! He’s there! He’s come to take me!”

“Angelica—”

“You’re helping him! Get off me! No! I won’t go! I won’t go with you!” Angelica let out a wild scream, and he could hear the sounds of a scuffle.

“It’s only us, Geli,” Jamie said, sounding breathless, no doubt fighting to restrain his sister from injuring herself. He must have come down from the other side of the house. The episodes tended to imbue Angelica with the energy she was so often lacking when she was withdrawn into herself, making her difficult to restrain. “It’s me, Jamie. See? Everything’s all right. No one’s going to hurt you.”

More footsteps came hurrying from both sides of the house. Alex appeared in the open doorway to the back bedroom, the same look of concern that Eliza had worn plastered over his features. “Papa? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Go help your sister.”

“Half the household is out there helping. They’ll do without me,” Alex said. Alexander’s face went hot with humiliation as his son knelt beside him. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“A few bumps. Nothing serious. A minor fall, that’s all.”

“Let me help you up.”

Alexander pushed himself semi-upright, and flung one arm up over the mattress to help levy himself back up onto the bed. With Alex’s help, he was lying back on the mattress once more. Alex eyed the chair, which had bumped into the far wall after Alexander had shoved it.

“Do you want me to help you into the chair?” Alex asked.

Before he could answer, more scuffling broke out in the parlor, and Angelica let out another cry of fear and rage. “No!” she screamed, and Alexander heard her bare feet pounding on the floor as she ran towards the back of the house. She ran into his open door, crouched down in the corner of his room, and crossed her arms over her head, sobbing.

Eliza, Jamie, and two of their servants came rapidly on her heels, crowding into the room.

Angelica curled further in on herself.

He met Eliza’s eye, and said, “I think Angelica needs a little space.”

His wife hesitated, then nodded. “Everyone clear out for a few minutes. Come on.” She reached for Alex, and herded him and Jamie from the room. Before closing the door behind her, she mouthed to him, “Are you all right?”

He nodded once, and she closed the door.

Angelica remained shaking in the corner for several long, painful minutes. He let the quiet linger, afraid if he addressed her too soon, she’d withdraw even further into herself. At long last, he saw her peek out from her protective cocoon, staring at him curiously.

“Hi Geli bug.”

“Papa?”

“It’s me.”

She pushed herself up and inched forward towards the bed, wary. “Are you real?”

His heart broke at the hopefulness in her eyes. “I’m real.”

She considered him, lips pursed. “Pip feels real, sometimes. Then, sometimes, I know he’s not. It’s hard to tell.”

“That’s all right, honey.”

“I remember you got hurt,” Angelica said, head tilting sideways.

“I did.”

“Everybody cried a lot. Especially Mama.”

“Yes.”

“Because you died.”

“No, sweetheart. I didn’t die. I’m right here.”

“Pip never remembers, either. He gets mad, sometimes, when I tell him. He doesn’t like being dead.” A chill went through him at her words, but she didn’t seem to notice. She inched forward again, and reached out to touch the bedspread. “You’re not mad at me, right Papa?”

“No, Geli. I’m not mad at you.”

She crawled up onto the bed and curled up beside him. “There was a face, Papa. A face in the mirror. The devil was looking at me. He wanted to take me to hell.”

He fought the urge to tell her the face was all in her imagination. Her fear may not be rational, but it was real. Gathering her closer, he kissed the top of her head. “He can’t get you in here. I’ll keep you safe.”

She sank into him, seeming to relax, but then let out a whimper and clapped her hand over her ear. “Shut up! Shut up!”

“Sweetheart?”

“The walls are full of whispers. Whispers, whispers, whispers. Can’t you hear them?”

“No, sweetheart. I can’t.”

“I don’t like them, Papa. They never stop. Always whispering.”

He kissed her hair again. Now that she suspected he’d joined Pip in death, she seemed freer with sharing her experiences with him. She so rarely opened up to them about the torments in her mind. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She craned her head around, tense, as though listening for something. “Pip’s calling for me. He wants to play.”

“Pip will wait. Stay here with me.”

She frowned, then cuddled closer, and eventually dozed off lightly against him.

The door cracked open a little later. Eliza peeked her head in, a small, relieved smile pulling at her lips at the sight within. He held a finger to his lips.

“Sleeping,” he mouthed.

Eliza padded in and ran a hand through their daughter’s hair. Her expression was soft as she looked at her, and it remained so when her gaze drifted towards him. “Thank God you were here,” she whispered to him.

Eliza would have been able to calm her just as ably, he was sure, but he didn’t argue.

“You’re sure I shouldn’t summon Doctor Hosack?” Eliza asked, frowning at him.

He was sitting up in the parlor, glasses perched on his nose and a book in his lap. He’d bumped his bruised elbow against the armrest of his chair when he’d gone to turn the page. The resulting wince hadn’t escaped his wife’s careful attention. Smiling, he assured her once again, “I’m fine. Bruises are rarely fatal, my dear.”

“That was a bad spill you took. You might have injured your back, or your legs. I really think the doctor should take a look at you.”

“Betsey—”

“You thought you were fine when the inflammation of your lungs was taking hold last month, too. And I nearly lost you again as a result. You’re not always right, you know.”

“How dare you, Madam,” he said with a quick inhale, holding a hand to his chest. His mock offense prompted a reluctant smile from her. He pulled a face at her, and grinned when it made her break out into a laugh, an endearing little snort expelling from her nose.

A knock on the door caused them both to look towards the entryway. The sky outside the parlor was a brilliant shade of pink and violet, afternoon having firmly given way to evening, an hour far too late for a casual visitor. “You didn’t send for the doctor without telling me, did you?”

“No. Though I should have,” she said, standing up from the sofa. She brushed a hand over his shoulder as she passed him on her way to the foyer.

He heard murmured voices, then the door shut again and Eliza returned to the parlor, face now devoid of color. “What happened?”

She held out a letter to him, her hands shaking slightly. He took it from her, and watched with concern as she sank back onto the sofa. Swallowing thickly, she said, “Special messenger. From Philip Jeremiah. You open it.”

Alexander ripped into the message, his eyes scanning the page. A weight of grief settled into his stomach as he read the hastily written news.

“It’s Papa, isn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded, looking up at her again.

“I knew it. As soon as I saw….” Her face crumpled.

With great difficulty, he seized the wheels of his chair and pushed himself across the few inches of distance to the sofa. His bruised arms protested the effort, but no discomfort could have stopped him from getting to his wife. “Come here, honey,” he invited, opening his arms. She latched on to him, buried her face in his shoulder, and cried.

Alexander rubbed his wife’s back soothingly, tears gathering in his own eyes. The old General had long been in feeble health, and the loss of his beloved wife Kitty had weakened him still further. Even so, though the news ought not to have been surprising, it came as a terrible shock.

“I didn’t know he was so sick,” he said.

Her voice was thick with tears. “I knew he was declining, but…I didn’t realize it would be so fast.”

“I wish we’d gone up to see him.”

“You weren’t in any condition to travel,” she said. “You’ve only just started feeling better.”

“You could have gone, at least.”

“I couldn’t leave you.”

That made him feel worse. His own health crisis had kept his wife from seeing her dying father one last time. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head against him. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t have left you for all the world while you were so sick.”

“Still—” Guilt and grief were heavy in his gut.

She hugged him tighter, her hold fierce. After a long moment of silent embrace, she confided, “I’ve learned to arm myself with Christian resignation against the misfortunes and evils of this world, as you always insist, but I thank God for preserving you. I don’t know how I’d go on through so much loss and heartache if He’d taken you from me, too.”*

“Shh. No need to dwell on that, my love. I’m right here, getting stronger every day.” He sniffled, and rolled his face into his opposite shoulder to wipe away the tears rolling unchecked down his cheeks. He tried to pull himself together that he might better comfort her. Despite all the misery and pain he’d suffered, that he could be here now for his wife and children did indeed feel worthy of a grateful prayer.

“I love you so much,” she said, hardly audible but for the fact that she was speaking in his ear. Her breath was quick and hot against his neck.

He squeezed her to him, just as fiercely as she held him, and whispered, “I love you, too, my darling Betsey.”

#hamilton fanfic #hamliza #alexander hamilton #eliza hamilton #angelica hamilton #alexander hamilton jr.#james hamilton #philip schuyler #life hereafter #chapter 5

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joie-university-rp · 5 years ago

Photo

Dear VITYA CRISTO,

It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!

Congratulations, KEN! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklist and send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias; pronouns: Ken, he/him

Age, Timezone: 22, PST

Activity, short explanation: New job so activity will be lower but I’m still here!!

Ships: Vitya/Anyone (Sexually), Vitya/Men (Romantically)

Anti-Ships: None.

Triggers: None!

Preferred photo for Character’s ID : https://i.ytimg.com/vi/1mfjly7Dgd4/maxresdefault.jpg

Anything else: My feet hurt from this new job. Also, if there are any typos, I’m sorry, I wrote this tired.

IC INFORMATION:

Full Name: Vitya Alexsi Cristo

FC: Bill Skarsgard

Age/Year at University: 19, Freshman

Birth date: November 18th, 2000.

Hometown: Vladivostok, Russia.

Gender/Pronouns: Male, he/him.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Major(s): Creative Arts - Illustration

Minor(s): Gemology

Housing request: Beiste Dorms, Room 226

Extracurriculars: Freerunning/Parkour Club, Esports Club, Gymnastics

Greek Life Affiliation: None.

CHARACTER PROFILE (TW; Depression, suicidal tendencies, under age sex/drinking):

Vitya Cristo has always been the baby of his family. It was not due to his age, or order in the births of his siblings, but more his health. It was discovered in his infancy he was born with a congenital heart defect. His skin was pale, he would lose his breath while feeding, and his hands and feet would swell up. His father, being a rich man in the pharmaceutical industry, wanted to fix his boy, but the medical professionals said the case was not severe enough for infant surgery. In fact, he should live a relatively normal life. His father did not see it that way. While his siblings would wander their large, mansion-like house in Vladivostok, Vitya was ordered to stay indoors. He was not allowed to play sports if not escorted, and was even monitored by a personal nanny to most of his schooling. He was isolated, unable to be a regular child because of his helicopter-like father.

Vitya’s mother was the light of his life. The woman had a fire in her, one that was freer and looser than her husband. She loved the man, of course, but disagreed with how protective he was of their son. On nights where he was away, she would sneak Vitya into the fields and courtyards and let him run around and be free. One of Vitya’s most prized memories is running through their lawn with the fireflies. He loved these moments with his mother and he learned to never take the good things for granted.

When Vitya started to enter his teen years, his father would take him to work more and more. Some days, his father would show him the labs and workers that were developing medicines, pills, and more. His father was introducing him into the business, with the obvious intent to pass it on to him. It was a cushiony job, with minimal risk, and little to no physical activity and enough money to set him up for life. It was clear was his father was trying his best to keep his son sheltered as he entered those rebellious years. It was also during this time that Vitya started displaying depressive symptoms, including self-destructive tendencies like playing with lighters and razor knives. In a hope to loosen the leash, Vitya’s mother convinced her husband to send him to school instead of teaching him at home. He, woefully, agreed.

When Vitya was sent away to an all-boys boarding school, the hope was he would become a fine young man, ready to inherit the family riches and pharmaceutical business. At first, he lived every day as if his father was there, as if his nanny still tended to him. It all changed when one night, his dorm mate woke him up to sneak out for the night and meet several other boys at the river nearby. It was near mid-terms, and the boys needed a break. Little Vitya could barely contain himself when he saw all the contraband they brought along. Booze, weed, satellite internet for porn, and hours to get through it all. That night, he partied like an actual teen for the first time in his life. He had his first kiss that night, his first blowjob, and later, at around five in the morning, his first partner. He dove into the deep-end, his sheltered soul yearning for the release and freedom all this brought him. And he reveled in it.

Vitya lived a double life from then on. During his time at home, he was the model son. Well-behaved, well-spoken. But at school, away from prying eyes, he was an absolute devil. Hours of drunken parties, bad habits like casual sex and smoking being his two favorites, and sometimes, getting into physical fights when his anger got out of hand. Vitya and his growing band of misfits found a way to bypass the school’s firewall, getting access to explicit content without hindrance. Vitya’s grades started to slip, but he didn’t care. He kept them up enough so his father would be satisfied, but that did not mean he was studying more. There was many-a-teacher he had dirt on, blackmailing his way to reasonable grades. He became a terror on the innocent boarding school almost overnight.

With his time at the school coming to an end, Vitya knew one thing for certain; there was no way he was going to be some CEO ass, dominating over people he would never bother to learn the name of. He still played the model son, faking his way into his father’s good graces, but each sideways glance to his mother told her what he really wanted; to get out. So, she did the impossible. Under the sleeping eyes of his nanny and father, his mother woke him up and snuck him outside, just like when he was a child. This time, though, she handed him a packed bag, keys to one of the cars, and a plane ticket, telling him to go. She may love her life of luxury and easy living, but she knew this was not the place for her baby. She only asked that Vitya keep an eye on his health, and use those American doctors for all their worth.

Vitya left that night and never looked back. He started out in New York, wandering to all the sites. He went to Pittsburg, New Orleans, Austin, Los Angeles; he went everywhere, explored everything, and fucked anything that gave him ‘the look’. Vitya would even set up in some motels and just let anyone in, if they had cash in hand and a bottle of booze. He got into some hairier situations, too, when those very customers would catch him clearing out their wallet. He had been cut off from his father’s fortunes when he discovered his actions, so he needed to make money somehow!

It was sheer luck when he applied as a foreign student at Joie University. He really just needed a place to stay, running out of motels to sell his ‘services’ out of. He knew he’d have to get an actual job at some point, selecting an easy degree to go after. He did enjoy drawing while growing up, and left his lovely rock collection in Russia, so illustration and gemology seemed a perfect fit. If only he could kick the Russian accent, then maybe he could fit in a bit better.

STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY:

(Please answer the following questions IN CHARACTER. Responses can be as long or short as you see fit!)

What made you want to attend Joie University?

It is a secure campus with a good curriculum. The housing seems nice and the students friendly enough. I am looking for a place to plan roots, to get started in life, and I want it to be here. There are loads of opportunities here and I want to find them.

What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess?

I’m intelligent. Beyond the classroom. I am good at reading people, what they want or need from me, which helps me understand my task. I know what I want, so I am very direct and leave little room for misinterpretation. I also have a morbid curiosity that can get me into trouble. All of these combined makes me somewhat abrasive, but that is their loss. And I am not very personable. I’ll do what needs to be done of me, but ask if I want to watch a rom-com with some popcorn, and I’m going to have to say no.

Which of your traits do you value most?

My directness. If I know what I want, and it isn’t what someone else wants, then I know I need to look elsewhere. I’m not going to waste time, which is better for both involved.

How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole?

Being Russian, I’m a cultural novelty that many haven’t seen before. The fact you Americans have to wait to twenty one to drink was a major newsflash for me, so now I have to wait three more years when I already was drinking back home. The more I learn about America, the more others can learn about the motherland, beyond what some media figurehead tells us.

What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU?

The obvious answer to this is a degree, but anther answer is possible dual citizenship. I hope through this, I will be able to travel between Russia and America with more than just a student visa. I truly believe I can call America home, if given the chance.

What is a quote or song lyric that describes you?

“Do you realize I’m the man and I’m in my prime? And it’s my time, I swear to God I won’t waste no time. You ain’t worth a dime, no, you ain’t worth a dime. Still on my mind, you’re still on my mind.” – ‘Let Me Know (I Wonder Why Freestyle)’ by Juice Wrld

#Accepted

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zukalations · 6 years ago

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Mori Keaki - 120% Darling Part I Chapter 10: I’ll Soar!

Mori Keaki published this essay book the month before her retirement as Top Star of Snow Troupe. It is mainly a memoir of her personal journey in Takarazuka, as well as her early life. Her writing/formatting style is kind of unique, and I tried to reproduce or reflect it as much as possible. 120% Darling has around 24 chapters, and I plan to post one every Friday.

It’s a really lovely book, that ended up making me cry many times. I hope you enjoy it!

For a table of contents with links to all the chapters, go here.

I’ll Soar!

Well, moving on…

Mori Keaki made it safely through her debut performance as Top Star, with the ‘unseen power’ of being supported by so many people around me.

That hospitalization incident really made me think…

Starting with my stage debut and my time as a junior student, through my time as second supporting star.

“I’ve really been so blessed…”

I felt like when I was younger (...when I was a junior student, I mean!! ...that I need to explain that proves I’m getting old, maybe!? Hm… I dunno…), I was sort of running along a railway.

Mori Keaki Rail.

And then along that there was running the locomotive called ‘Mori Keaki’.

Of course, I did enjoy the scenery.

But there definitely wasn’t just beautiful landscapes and lovely weather all the time. Sometimes there was nothing but mountains, or nothing but rice fields. Clear skies and rain, day and night.

There were times when I thought ‘Amazing~!’ and was really moved.

But also days when I would complain to myself ‘What...this is no fun at all…’

There definitely was that time.

When I was just being ‘driven’ along, observing the scenery.

I can’t say that I was progressing 100% under my own power.

But I didn’t notice that.

I was impudent and prideful, and started building up barriers.

At that time, I felt like I had entered a tunnel.

“Huh? What’s going on!? I can’t see the scenery any more…”

During the time I was struggling with that.

The railroad track gradually began an upward curve.

But even so.

I never realized.

Forget the tunnel!!

I had climbed up inside the chimney.

When it’s running along the ground.

It’s not as if a locomotive has the energy to look upwards.

But.

I hadn’t had the time to actually calmly observe the being known as ‘me’ before.

The locomotive ‘Mori Keaki’ had just been desperately driving towards ‘the future’, desperately trying not to break down or turn back.

I wasn’t aware of if my power source was ‘others, plus myself’, or ‘myself, plus others’.

I didn’t realize that I had to stop moving along the ground and start travelling upward.

But, once I had gone far, far ahead…

One day.

Plunk.

It felt like something had dropped on my head…

Not heavily, but.

Plunk!!

“Huh?”

I looked up.

I tried to brush it off, and then…

I suddenly broke through.

Then…

What I saw was…

“It’s the sky~!!”

So wide, so blue, so beautiful.

The sky.

In every direction, all I could see was the open blue sky!!

That was the first time I realized.

“Until yesterday, I was up inside the chimney…”

There are no railway tracks or anything like that in the sky. The time of that realization must have been around the time I was done with my Takarazuka Grand Theatre debut show as Top Star, and returned back from the following regional performance… Yeah.

“So, now what…”

I gazed around at the huge sky.

“I see now. I’m freer than ever. But probably, things are going to be harder than ever.” I thought to myself. But, hope won out, 99 to 1…

Definitely,

All those previous Top Stars in the long history of the Takarazuka Revue…

Had also had to climb their way out of that chimney.

And they had looked out at that ‘sky’ full of ‘freedom’ waiting for Takarazuka Top Stars.

I thought, “They all must have had their own outlook,” too.

There were no more rails now.

“It’s nice to be free,” I felt like the sky was saying and smiling down at me.

I felt like I had been completely released.

And at the same time.

I was happy, but a strange sensation kept running up and down my spine.

Ah~ There is so much space~

Ah~ The view is so beautiful~

Ah~ I feel so light~

“Ah… Now, I’m…”

I realized I was no longer the conductor of the locomotive ‘Mori Keaki’...

The rails were gone.

The traincar protecting me from the rain and wind was gone, too.

But, instead, I had the freedom to go wherever I wanted. So of course there was the chance of rain and wind.

It was a wonderfully happy feeling.

I had a huge smile.

This was surely the start of the time when Mori Keaki could really exist as her natural self… That’s what I think now…

Moreover, since it was the sky, the footing was never certain, but I was lucky enough that I was able to get to this day without ever falling…

But, once March of the 5th year of the Heisei era* has passed…

When I leave the ‘sky’ of my beloved Takarazuka Revue, that has been so kind and supportive to me, once again I’ll go and fly out somewhere even further… maybe…

Of course, there will still be ‘sky’ ahead of me,

But maybe it’s like transferring from a domestic flight to an international flight.

I don’t really know…

But once I make my decision, I’ll soar away!! (I really like this attitude… Ahaha)

Yeah.

I’ll do my best~!!

* 1993 in Western reckoning.

#takarazuka #OG materials #sienne: mori keaki #book translation #book: 120 darling

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sonnets-and-snowdrops · 6 years ago

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We Don’t Need it Anymore

i.e., a Sugawara-centric not-quite-birthday-fic :)

Fandom: Haikyuu!! Pairing: None, really. Kageyama/Suga if you squint, I guess, but it’s supposed to be a senpai/kōhai thing more than a shippy thing. But read it however you want to, of course! Genre: Missing scene, light angst (but with a happy ending, I promise, so don’t worry too much!) Rating: General/All Audiences Word Count: 1k Warnings: None! Summary: Eyyy, it’s my first ever Haikyuu!! fic! Strictly speaking, I *suppose* it’s a birthday fic for my sweet bby Suga, but it isn’t really birthday-themed. Still, the fact that his birthday was yesterday (June 13) isn’t a coincidence. Birthday-themed or not, it’s a nice, little exploration of some Suga feels, and actually, I’ve been meaning to write it for a while now. His birthday just provided the occasion/motivation I needed, I suppose!

This fic is set (ha-ha) during the very beginning of the first season. The first part takes place shortly before Asahi’s return to the team, and the second part takes place shortly after.

ALSO thank you to @imaginarydragonling, both for getting me into Haikyuu!! in the first place and for being a constant pillar of support to me, as a writer and as a human. Love you lots, my friend.

Enjoy! <3

Sugawara Kōshi can hardly believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“You don’t need to throw it away, Yamaguchi – it’s fine! If we repair it, we can use it again…!”

He shows Yamaguchi a shaky imitation of his signature smile, but he sees the way his young teammate looks at him. I reacted much too strongly, Suga thinks, his heart sinking. Yamaguchi was only trying to help, after all. And, what’s more, his point is a good one. The broom has snapped clean in two, and pointy splinters protrude at both ends.

It’s dangerous to keep a broom like that around. If they aren’t careful, someone, Suga knows, could get hurt.

But even so, against both safety regulations and his better judgement, Suga tucks the broken broom back in its usual spot in the shadowy corner of the equipment room.

Maybe, just maybe, some former glory can be salvaged from that tired, old broom. Maybe, just maybe, the past will win the day one more time before it’s forced to give way to the future.

***

Suga’s arms and legs are burning with the aftermath of exertion. His heart is still pounding fast, and his emotions are still running happy and high. He’s not sure he’s ever played a more thrilling game in his life. A silly, heartfelt grin springs to his lips at the thought. He never, never in all his years as a volleyball player, believed he’d think something like that about a practice match against a humble neighborhood volleyball association.

He sighs, feeling extremely content, and decides to make his way towards the equipment room; after all, even in the wake of victory, the net must be taken down and folded, and the balls must be returned to their places, and the floors must be swept. Behind him, he hears Noya-san spouting his fiery congratulations to Asahi, who, Suga is certain, must be shaking his head and cowering and holding up his big hands in protest of Noya’s praise. His grin grows as the sound of the familiar banter follows him faintly as he crosses the gym. It feels, Suga thinks, almost as if the good old days have returned with Asahi.

Almost.

When Suga reaches the doorway of the equipment room, he pauses. A tall figure, nearly silhouetted in the gloomy darkness, stands completely still inside. Its back is to Suga, and its head is cocked to the side, as if in confusion.

“…Kageyama-kun?”

The figure turns. In Kageyama’s hands are two halves of a broken broom, and upon his face is a dark, determined frown.

“This is dangerous,” Kageyama says flatly. “Someone should have gotten rid of it when it broke. Why is it still here?”

Suga chews his lip. It isn’t an easy question to answer, even now that Asahi has returned and Noya has decided to put his feelings of anger and hurt to the side. “It’s old,” Suga says in the end. “There is – I mean, there was – some sentimental value to it.” He takes a few slow steps forward and clasps each half of the broom in one hand. “You’re right, Kageyama-kun. We should get rid of it. It isn’t useful anymore.”

He tries to take the broom from Kageyama, but Kageyama maintains a firm, strong grip. Suga’s gaze flickers up to his teammate’s eyes, and much to his surprise, he still sees confusion there. It doesn’t seem to Suga like Kageyama is trying to be difficult – far from it, in fact. Kageyama seems distracted, as if he hasn’t yet realized what Suga is trying to do.

“Kageyama-kun?” Suga tries, hoping that words might break through to Kageyama if actions can’t. “The broom – if I could just – ”

“Sugawara-san.”

Suga hesitates. His grip slackens on the broom. When he looks to Kageyama’s eyes again, he sees that they have cleared. Kageyama looks focused now, sharp and resolute – the way he looks, Suga realizes abruptly, more or less the way he looks when he’s on the volleyball court. “Yes?” he asks. “What is it?”

“The way you tossed to Asahi-san,” Kageyama says. His words come quickly, as if he’s afraid of letting them linger in the air for too long. “It was incredible. I’ve never seen teamwork like that before. And I – I was wondering – ”

And with that, Kageyama drops the broom. Suga only barely manages to keep the broken pieces clutched in his hands, and he gapes, wide-eyed, when Kageyama inclines his whole upper body in the most unexpected bow Suga has ever seen.

“Please,” Kageyama says, voice low and trembling with passion, “teach me how to be a dependable setter like you, Sugawara-senpai! My tosses might be impressive, but they mean nothing if I can’t use them to be a part of a team!”

Suga blinks. For a moment, he can’t find his voice. His gaze slips down to the broken broom in his hands, and then back up to his unbelievably earnest teammate.

And in that moment, there is no doubt, no uncertainty, and no hesitation in Suga’s mind. He knows exactly what he needs to do – for Kageyama, for his team, and for himself.

“Kageyama-kun,” Suga says, the beginnings of another smile starting to play about his lips. “There’s no need for all that. Of course I’ll teach you. Though,” he adds, wondering whether Kageyama will read his next words as sarcasm or brutal honesty, “there really isn’t very much I need to teach an incredible setter like you.”

Kageyama rises. “That isn’t true.” His voice still rings with passion, and his expression is still painfully earnest. “I may be a strong athlete,” he says, “but you are a strong person, Sugawara-senpai. I know you’ll teach me much.” And then, in a gesture that shocks Suga to his core and disarms him completely, Kageyama smiles. “I look forward to it, senpai!”

Suga feels almost dazed as he hears Kagayama’s steady footsteps retreat behind him. He glances down, and sees the sad, splintery broom that he still holds listlessly in his calloused setter’s hands. I really should get rid of it, he thinks. It’s old. It’s broken. We can’t use it the way we used to. We have newer, better brooms that should take its place.

Still, something inside Suga can’t quite stomach the idea of letting go of the past like that. He glances back up, and risks shooting a look over his shoulder, across the gym, to where Kageyama has rejoined the other first-years. Hinata jumps up and down and waves his arms, and Yamaguchi murmurs something meekly to Tsukishima, who promptly slugs Yamaguchi in the arm and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “Shut up” to Suga’s distant ears. And Kageyama, for his part, is keeping to himself. He says nothing, but he seems to glow with a quiet confidence that Suga has never seen in him before. He looks calm, and eager – and a little bit excited, too, if Suga is reading that strange smile on his face properly.

Suga turns back around, back to the broom, back to the dusky shadows of the equipment room. He squares his shoulders. He draws a deep, deep breath. He sets his jaw, and fixes his gaze forward – forward to the big, bright expanse of the gym, and forward to the future, too. He takes step after bold step out of the equipment room, across the hardwood floor of the gym, to the heavy double doors that lead outside. He circles the building, finds the dumpster that sprawls unceremoniously out back, drops both halves of the broom inside it, and then returns to the gym, feeling lighter and freer than he has in days.

A heavy hand falls on his shoulder. “You got rid of it,” Daichi says softly, a questioning look in his dark eye.

“I did.”

“Why?”

“It felt like the right thing to do.”

Daichi rubs his chin in consideration. “I think,” he says, “you’re right.” His gaze alights affectionately on Asahi and Noya, still engaging in their hopeless game of high praise and steadfast refusal on the other side of the gym. “We don’t need it anymore, do we?”

“No,” Suga agrees. His own gaze travels back to Kageyama, who still shines with that strange, silent confidence on the sidelines, even as his fellow first-years continue to shove and shout and banter. “With the team we have now? With the future we’re going to build together? No, Daichi-san. We don’t need it anymore.”

Thanks for reading, friends! I hope you liked it! I might pop this little fic up on the ol’ archive, if it goes over well enough on tumblr. Thoughts?

Also - I went back and forth quite a bit about what to call Suga in this fic. I initially wrote it using “Kōshi” throughout, as it’s written from Suga’s POV, and I can only imagine that Suga thinks of himself using his given name inside his own head - but then, the anime and the manga don’t really give us any insight into this.I decided to roll with “Suga” for this version because it felt... more familiar? Less weird? Eh, something like that. Anywho, point is - I’d welcome any thoughts/suggestions/opinions about this, too!

Thanks again, friends! And happy birthday, Suga-san~! <3

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lizartgurl · 6 years ago

Note

ALL THE NUMBERS FOR THE OC ASK

MAV NO

Okay I’ll just pick one of my COJ characters for each question here we go *cracks knuckles*

For my Crusaders of Justice series (currently about five books), we have-

Joan Ngo

Roxanne Chance

Lord Joseph of Alexandria

Daniel Wright

Rebecca Brandt

Alvin James “AJ” Brandt

Samuel Payton

Emma Payton

Willow Hawkins

And yes, this is my series based on my biggest Young Justice fanfiction, so see if you can guess which character resembles who ;)

1. How many different places have they lived?

Due to his royalty, Joseph was never allowed to leave the borders of the city of Alexandria. That didn’t keep him from sneaking out and travelling to the surface. He mostly used his powers to help out small towns on coastlines, but he is somehow always drawn back to the City of Los Angeles.

2. What is their dream vacation?

Rebecca wants to travel the world, see everything it has to offer outside of her family and her mother’s constant supervision.

3. What is their favorite color?

AJ’s favorite color is orange. Appalled by the lack of orange cars, he decided to make his own for his sixteenth birthday. He and Becca learned the mechanics together. and she helped him.

4. What is their favorite book?

Roxanne rereads her mother’s spellbooks over and over. It makes her feel like her mother is there to help her anyway.

5. Have they ever cheated on anyone before?

Joseph can’t help but feel like he cheated on Theolian by breaking up with him and traveling to the surface himself, and subsequently meeting his new friends and falling for other people.

6. Have they ever been cheated on?

Tom pretty much broke Emma’s heart after he sided with his uncle and told Walter her secrets.

7. How many partners have they had?

Joan is too scared to ever date them. She’s always afraid that what happened to her mother would happen to her. But thanks to Roxanne and their new friends, she’s slowly learning to trust.

8. What is their favorite food?

Willow loves spicy foods even if it makes her sick.

9. Are they a liar? Are they good at lying?

Daniel has an extraordinary poker face for someone who has never played poker. If the others need someone to cover them, it’s Daniel.

10. Introvert or Extrovert?

Sam is an extrovert, which makes him overwhelm himself nine times out of ten.

11. Have they ever been arrested and why?

Rebecca was hauled to the principal’s office for using the girls toilets on a terrible day where she just didn’t care anymore, but AJ helped her get detention rather than arrested.

12. Who would they sacrifice their life for?

Willow would die for any of her new friends. After all, they almost died for her. Multiple times.

13. What are their spending habits?

Emma tries not to let her mentor’s financial status go to her head, but she forgets sometimes that not everyone can get 50 grand at the drop of a hat.

14. Do they like hot or cold temperatures better?

Rebecca likes the cold because then it doesn’t get hot under her hijab.

15. Are they religious?

AJ’s half of the family is Jewish, Rebecca’s is Muslim. Sam and Emma are Christian, with some Hindi influences, and Willow and Daniel are trying to learn more about the spirituality of their ancestors.

16. If they could describe themself in one sentence, what would they say?

“It’s just me, your local bisexual street witch and her gay sidekicks!” -Roxanne

17. Do they have any overused catchphrases?

“Hello!” -Sam

18. What makes them laugh?

Not necessarily laughing, but seeing her brother and friends happy makes Emma feel safe and happy.

19. Have they ever lost anyone close to them? How did it affect them?

Willow misses her father and her memories of him, and she can’t help but feel like she’s lost the chance to really know her mother because of how distant Brianna became after losing her husband and daughter the first time. She wishes that her father had never sacrificed himself and that all this had never happened, but she doesn’t quite think that wish through.

20. Do they have a fast reaction time, or slow?

Joan has lightning fast reflexes. She will not let herself be caught off-guard ever again.

21. How do they react to praise?

Daniel is always a little surprised. He never got any form of positive reinforcement in the vault, so joining the football team with Joseph and AJ is really good for him. He’s a perfectionist, and he doesn’t hold back because of his training in the vault. The first time he messes up is a fumble during the homecoming game that costs them the final touchdown and he’s terrified of what the team will do to him, especially AJ and Joseph, because they matter so much to Daniel. He finally starts to understand how different it is when Nick takes the whole team and the cheerleaders out for milkshakes before Serene’s house party and tells Daniel especially how much he’s improved.

22. How do they react to criticism?

Emma takes a lot of criticism from Tom especially. Being with her friends helps her forget it, at least until she’s alone again and remembers what Tom has told her and how even her brother doesn’t accept her. (Yes, Tom is the abusive boyfriend the team is gonna save her from)

23. Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?

Joan prefers to be outside. She feels freer that way.

24. What are their biggest pet peeves?

Rebecca’s is having her gender disrespected (She’s a trans girl)

25. Do they have any type of handicaps? How do they manage them?

Sam is autistic! He gets overwhelmed very easily with crowds, small spaces, loud noises, and certain touch sensations, and he hyperfixes on birds and computers, because they make him think of his parents and family. Emma is his crutch, his main link with reality, but he really connects with AJ and Roxie too, and he starts to not rely on Emma too much. He and his friends are all learning more about how to work with his autism every day.

#ask lizart #my ocs #nightingale #phoenix #joseph #joan #alvin #roxanne #starling #rebecca #daniel #coj

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expatimes · 4 years ago

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Could vaccinating an entire resort town revive Zimbabwe tourism?

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe – With every passing minute, 500 million cubic metres of roaring water rush over the edge, falling into a gorge more than 100 metres below. The sound is thundering, the sight spectacular.

Once again, the Victoria Falls – locally known as Mosi-oa-Tunya, which means “the smoke that thunders” – is at its peak, but only a few can witness this magnificent cascading waterfall straddling Zimbabwe and Zambia.

Prior to the coronavirus pandemic, more than 350,000 people each year trekked to the Zimbabwean side of the waterfall to see one of the world’s natural wonders. But since then, there have been hardly any visitors.

Now, hopes are high that a vaccine rollout could bring back much-needed tourism in the resort town – but for some holiday businesses, it might take more than just a COVID-19 shot to recoup the losses in a country that has been in the throes of a severe economic crisis.

President Emmerson Mnangagwa receives the COVID-19 vaccine in Victoria Falls

Zimbabwe recorded its first coronavirus case a year ago, a resident of Victoria Falls. Although patient zero recovered, the country has registered more than 1,500 COVID-19-related deaths and nearly 37,000 infections since last March.

With a strict national lockdown enforced, tourist activities in the resort town, as in many other places across the country, were shut down for months on end. However, the advent of the country’s vaccination drive using Chinese jabs means that restrictions have since eased.

Inoculation campaigns

Launched on February 18, the first phase of the campaign targeted some 60,000 healthcare and other front-line workers. Of them, however, only 44,000 have been inoculated so far.

Last week, President Emmerson Mnangagwa took his first shot of the Sinovac vaccine to launch the second phase of the vaccination programme that is intended for the elderly, teachers, religious leaders, people with critical illnesses – and all adult residents of Victoria Falls, a city of some 110,000 people.

In a symbolic move aimed at promoting tourism recovery, Mnangagwa travelled to Victoria Falls to get his shot on Wednesday.

Since then, residents of the tourism-dependent town have been forming snaking queues outside public hospitals and clinics, waiting for their turn to get their first dose of the vaccine.

Moreblessing Khumalo waits outside a hospital in Victoria Falls to get inoculated

Moreblessing Khumalo, a travel consultant for a company that offers cruises and rafting adventures on the Zambezi River, said although she was afraid of any unknown side effects, inoculation was necessary for life to go on.

“I’m scared, but there’s no other way we can do this,” the 31-year-old told Al Jazeera. “In this town, people need to go back to work; others need to reopen their businesses and even for me, as time goes on, it will become impossible to serve my clients if I don’t get vaccinated,” she said.

“Once I get back to work I’ll start to meet people from all over the world so I need to take the vaccine to protect myself and my family.”

Vaccination is voluntary, but for some people, it is a requirement to return to work.

With the programme seemingly moving forward at full speed and international flights slowly resuming, Victoria Falls is preparing to welcome foreign visitors again – even as the land borders to Botswana and Zambia remain closed to public transport.

Elated, Lazarus Jamu, 48, a caretaker at a local hotel, said he felt freer after receiving his first injection.

“I’m happy; I got vaccinated so that I can be free in everything I do,” he told Al Jazeera. “I will be free to move around and to do my work because I’ll be fit, I won’t have that fear of getting corona any more.”

More than just a shot is needed

However, some have said Zimbabwe’s tourism and hospitality industry needs more than a vaccination drive to get back on track.

Earlier this month, the government announced a $5.8m scheme that will see the government provide a 50 percent loan guarantee for businesses in the tourism sector. The move met criticism by opposition figures, who described it as risky and cautioned that struggling taxpayers could be forced to foot the bill if the companies defaulted.

Others, however, said the loan facility should be extended to cover all businesses in hospitality.

“More players need to be able to access such facilities after one year of varied operations ranging from full closure to curfew and occupancy constrained trading,” said Bongai Zamchiya, head of the Restaurant Operators Association of Zimbabwe, stressing that many operators are in critical need of financial backing.

“As an industry, the support we seek is the same that has been seen around the world: from stimulus that increases aggregate demand, furlough that protects jobs and concessionary funding or tax breaks that will ensure business sustainability.”

During government consultations last year, tourism operators called for a financial relief package to help them offset the impact of the pandemic, but little aid was given to private enterprises.

According to the Zimbabwe Tourism Authority (ZTA), tourism contributed 7.2 percent and 6.5 percent of the country’s gross domestic product in 2018 and 2019, respectively. But with business slowing down last year, Zimbabwe’s tourism sector is estimated to have lost at least $1bn in potential revenue, the ZTA said.

Meanwhile, the pandemic has added another dimension to Zimbabwe’s economic crisis which has seen its local currency rapidly devaluing and the US dollar and South African rand operating as de facto currencies.

Intermittent shortages of cash and other basic commodities such as fuel have been constant indicators of a crippled economy whose dire state has been exacerbated by COVID-19, inflation and drought.

After the economy contracted by more than 7 percent in 2020, it is expected to rebound by 2.9 percent due to improved rainfall and falling inflation, according to the World Bank.

The government hopes to inoculate 60 percent of the country’s 14.8 million people in order to achieve herd immunity by the end of the year.

Back in Victoria Falls, Clive Chinwada, president of the Hospitality Association of Zimbabwe, said the resort town had been deeply scarred by the pandemic and the slump in global travel. He warned it would take time to see a significant change in foreign tourist arrivals and an increase in hotel occupancy rates.

“The situation is quite bad and will likely be so for quite some time as recovery is now likely to only start in 2022 for international travel,” he said.

Follow Tendai on Twitter and Instagram

Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=19742&feed_id=40400

#Africa #Coronaviruspandemic #Economy #entire #Health #News #resort #revive #Tourism #town #Vaccinating #Zimbabwe

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dantediscoversfic · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 27: Aurora

Paying a bus fare shouldn’t be the most challenging thing you have to complete in a day. But throw a broken arm into the mix and suddenly the whole world is an obstacle course called Formerly Trivial Tasks That Are Now As Daunting As Olympic Qualifiers.

I got on the bus, fished out a handful of coins from my pocket and tried to feed each coin one by one into the fare taker using just my thumb and pointer finger. Big mistake, since I’m apparently not as dexterous with my palm as fifteen years on the planet had led me to believe. The rest of the coins practically jumped out of my fist and scattered all over the bus floor, spinning noisily. I scrambled to pick them up, cursing under my breath, feeling my face flush from all the eyes I’m sure were boring into me. The passengers waiting to board barreled ahead of me and a man reached down to help me pick up the coins.

“It’s all right, I’ll get these,” the man said.

“Thanks,” I said. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right, it’s all right, just take a seat. I got this, sonny.”

“Ok, thanks.”

I handed him the coins I’d picked off the ground. The bus driver had already grown impatient and started driving away as the man paid the fare for me.

Normally I would have beelined it to the very back of the bus, where Ari and I normally sat, but I felt like I needed to stick around and thank the stranger again.

He sat down next to me and handed me back my spare change. “Thanks for your help,” I said.

“No problem, kid.” He looked me up and down. “What the hell happened to you, anyway?”

The man’s voice was a gritty foghorn. Like he’d been smoking cigarettes rolled with sandpaper since he was eleven. I was taken aback a little but I didn’t detect anything malicious behind his question, mostly curiosity.

“Traffic accident. I almost got hit by a car.”

“Well at least you’re alive to tell the tale. Where was the accident?”

“Over by Memorial Pool.”

“You like to swim?”

“Yeah.”

“Swimming’s good exercise. Just make sure you don’t accidentally drink any of that pool water though. You don’t know what sorts of bad stuff the government’s been pumping in there on top of all the germs and chlorine and kiddie piss. You could end up with tapeworm that eats your brain. Or worse.”

At this point I probably should have smiled and nodded and left it at that. Maybe pulled out a book so he would get the hint that I wasn’t in a chatty mood. But I took a look into the man’s face. He was probably in his forties but looked much older. His skin was weatherworn, cracked and brown like a creek bed during a drought. His eyes were startlingly blue beneath his bushy caterpillar eyebrows. His gray hair was thin, long and straggly and he had crumbs in his beard. He was missing a few teeth and his breath was wet and rank. Part of me wanted to recoil away from him. But he’d been kind to help me. I didn’t want to turn my back on him just because he gave off a definite oddball vibe and a not-so-great smell.

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. You think waterborne diseases just happen naturally? Part of God’s plan? No sir. ‘Don’t drink the water.’ Ever. Ya feel me?”

“I thought that mostly applied to travel in foreign countries? Since your body hasn’t acclimated to the native microbes in the water?”

“Native microbes! Native to what? Native to this spinning piece of dirt we call planet earth? Because I’ve got news for you there, too. They’ve been pumping stuff into the water for hundreds of years. And there ain’t no such thing as native. Ever hear of Aurora, Texas?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’ve heard of Roswell, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Aurora happened way before that but you never hear about it. I wonder why. Year is 1897. An April morning just like any other. Dawn breaks and a one Mr. Judge Proctor wakes up on account of a horrible crashing noise. Nearly has a heart attack. Thinks the world’s ending or war has broken out. Jumps out of bed, grabs his gun and tells his family to stay inside and lock all the doors. Looks across his field and sees his windmill’s on fire. Alerts the fire brigade, grabs buckets of water to put out the blaze and runs over to the windmill. There he gets the shock of his life. What do you think he sees?”

He looked at me with his wide excited eyes, waiting for me to take a guess. I could tell where his story was going, but I was totally drawn into his tale and wanted to hear him finish it.

“Um…had something crashed into his windmill?”

He slapped his knee so hard it made me jump. “You’re a smart one! What does he see but the crash remains of an extraterrestrial airship. But he doesn’t know that yet. All he sees is wood debris and heaps of metal and smoke. The windmill’s water tank is busted and spewing water everywhere, which is at least lucky since it helps put off the fire from spreading. Proctor and his men are running around, trying to keep the fire from taking out his entire field and what do you suppose he finds hidden under a piece of blasted metal?”

“Um…the pilot?”

“Damn right the pilot! Poor fellow was dead of course. Charred and burned like a piece of barbeque. But even all burnt up the townsfolk knew he wasn’t from this world. They found papers on him, all written in mumbo jumbo like you find in Egpyt and the Mayan temples. Except this wasn’t like any of those hieroglyphics anyone had ever seen before. Scientists and G-men got on the scene right quick. The ship’s metal was like nothing found on this planet either. What do you think happened next?”

“Um…did they take the pilot and the ship to study it?”

“You’d think. You’d think that when one of our brothers makes contact the scientists and whatnot would want to find out as much they can about what makes them such evolved superior beings. But humans are greedy bastards. And cowards. So instead of sending it in to be studied, they tried to hush the damn thing up. They buried the pilot and stuffed the remains of his ship down a sealed well. No follow-up, no nothing. Thing is, before the crash strange things kept happening in Aurora. Boll weevil infestations wiped out cotton crops. Fever sickness spread so the whole town was under quarantine. Fires took out half the town. No one realizing that what they tried to cover up could have helped the town if they’d only listened and tried to understand the pilot’s mission. Instead the water made everyone sicker.”

“But why would they have covered it up?”

“The government needs to keep us stupid and sick and compliant. Pigs in a pen. Ignorant to The Truth. We’re all pawns in their big game. Let me tell you something, kid. Everything you see, this bus, the bus driver, the road, that 7-Eleven. It’s all an illusion. You see it because that’s what they want you to see. But once you’ve got your eyes open. Once you’ve seen and felt and talked to our brothers you’ll understand that they’re just trying to help us. They’re trying to spring us from this prison. The government tries to keep our brothers a secret so ‘the public doesn’t panic’. What a crock of horsehit. It really comes down to keeping us at war and keeping us down while they get rich on oil money and military money and Big Pharma money. Our brothers have the technology and abilities to end global hunger and sickness and poverty. But that would hand over the government’s power to the people. And the filthy warmongers want to keep us down. Pigs in a pen. Once you’ve seen that, you can’t unsee it.”

I really didn’t know what else to say to that besides, “Ah.” I wondered what Ari would have thought of this man if he were sitting here next to me. He’d probably think he was a total whackjob and would have been skeptical of everything that came out of his mouth. But I couldn’t help but sort of liking the man, with his wide overly bright eyes and emphatic gestures.

“’There are more things between heaven and hell than any of us have witnessed.’ Except some of us have witnessed it.”

“You mean you’ve seen aliens?”

“I got my first visit when I was probably your age. Maybe a little younger. I was fourteen.”

“I’m fifteen.”

“Yeah, just about your age then.”

“What happened?”

“I was living in foster care at the time. Hated it. The family I’d been placed with was a bunch mean sadistic motherfuckers, all of them. Pardon my French. Wanted to kill myself. Tried to. But I didn’t because that’s when the brothers found me. Put their suckers on me and dipped my head in a silver liquid like I was being baptized. After that, they could talk to me in their language through my brain and I understood it. Even though to your average person it would sound like whale noises. High pitched squeals and clicks. But they could talk to me after that and I didn’t want to die anymore. I ran away from the family I was with and I’ve been on my own ever since. But not alone. The brothers let me know their plans sometimes. I’m lucky they trust me.”

“Wow.”

“They have plans. They’re trying to help. Here in El Paso, the ones who escaped from Roswell have been working on taking over the transportation system. But our metal is toxic to them. Their skin is so delicate. The fumes, too.”

“And you’re helping them?”

“When I can, yeah. Not so much for the transportation thing, that’s not really my area, but I’m their man on the inside for Big Pharma intel. I get terrible headaches from the suckers after they’ve mined me for knowledge. But that’s okay because afterwards I feel so much freer, more alive than ever. It’s an honor to help them. That’s why I’m headed to the clinic now. They need me.”

“I’m going to the hospital to see a friend of mine. He was also in the accident except his legs are broken.”

“I broke both my legs once. Motorcycle accident. Hit and run. I was left for dead on the side of the road. I would have died right there in a ditch if the brothers hadn’t found me and helped heal me up.”

“Wow. You’ve um…had quite an interesting life.”

“Interesting ain’t the half of it. Here’s my stop. Good luck, kid. Keep your eyes open.”

“Sure, yeah. I will.”

The man got off and hobbled off the bus. Something was definitely wrong with his legs, they were bent inwards toward each other at an off angle. I couldn’t help but imagine him on the side of the road after his motorcycle accident, getting healed by an otherworldly blue light, even though I knew it was impossible.

I kept thinking about the strange man until the bus arrived at my stop. I wanted to write down the story he’d told me so I could remember it and maybe make a painting out of it, but I wasn’t good enough with my left hand to write more than a few chicken scratch lines. Aurora. Contaminated Water. Pig pens. The truth. The list looked a little crazy. I tore the page out of my sketch book and stuffed it in my pocket.

I went up to Ari’s room at the hospital. My stomach cramped a little bit when I saw him in his bed, alone, staring out the window that overlooked a parking lot. He looked a little better than when I’d seen him the day he woke up, but not by much. I couldn’t help but imagine him motionless in the middle of the road.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he said. “The doctor said I was going to heal very nicely.”

“Very nicely?”

“That’s exactly what he said. So give me eight to ten or twelve weeks, and I’m going to be myself again. Not that being myself is such a great thing.”

That made me laugh. At least the car hadn’t knocked Ari’s self-deprecating humor out of him. But then I felt kind of bad for laughing. Hospitals really didn’t seem like the type of place for belly laughs. “Are you going to initiate a no-laughing rule?”

“Laughing is always good. Laughing works.”

“Good,” I said, relieved. If Ari and I couldn’t laugh together after what happened my heart would have well and truly broken.

I pulled up a chair next to his bed and took the books I’d brought out of my backpack. “I brought you reading material. The Grapes of Wrath and War and Peace.”

“Great,” he said. He didn’t sound overly enthused about the new summer reading syllabus I’d provided him.

“I could have brought you more flowers.” Every spare surface of the room was covered in get-well flowers. All the floral bouquets that would have been nice-smelling on their own combined to make a not-so-appealing mishmash of scents. But at least it covered up the underlying chalky hospital smell.

“I hate flowers.”

“Somehow I guessed that.”

He flipped through War and Peace in a desultory way. “They’re fucking long.”

“That’s the point.”

“Guess I have time.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’ve read them?”

“’Course I have.”

“’Course you have.”

I put the books on the little table next to his bed, next to a stack of get-well cards. My mom and dad had given him one and asked me if I’d wanted to sign it. I’d said no. There was no way I could have distilled all my feelings of regret and guilt and gratitude to him and written them out next to a few trite lines thought up by some random person who worked for Hallmark. But now I felt bad that I hadn’t gotten him a card. Everyone likes cards when they’re sick. Even Ari.

I took out my sketch pad. Another bout of nervous butterflies in my stomach, but I tried not to let it show.

“You’re going to sketch me in casts?”

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have. Not unless he wanted a sketch of himself that looked like the handiwork of a preschooler.

“Nope. I just thought that maybe you’d want to look at some of my sketches.”

“Okay,” he said. He sounded about as excited at looking at my drawings as undergoing another round of surgery. I tried not to let that hurt my feelings.

“Don’t get too excited.”

“It’s not that. The pain comes and goes.”

“Does it hurt right now?”

“Yes.”

“Are you taking anything?”

“I’m trying not to. I hate the way whatever the hell they give me makes me feel.”

He pushed the button to move his bed more into a sitting position. I handed over the sketch pad and he was about to open it up when I stopped him, suddenly too embarrassed to let him look at them with me right there next to him.

“You can look at it after I leave.”

He looked at me, not sure what to say.

“You have rules. I have rules too.”

He laughed at that and only winced a little bit.

“Tell me about the people on the bus,” he said.

That I was happy to do. I told him about the strange man and the aliens he’d encountered. I wanted to tell the story right. Not like I was making fun of the man or thought he was totally crazy, which I’m pretty certain he was to some extent. But I wanted Ari to understand the spell the man’s words had cast on me. How this man’s ranting didn’t seem so scary or weird because he believed in a power that was good, a power that wanted to help us humans even if we didn’t deserve it. But I must not have been doing a very good job of telling the story because Ari’s eyes were unfocused and drifting the whole time. He’d have to have been there, I guess.

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dragonagecompanionsreact · 8 years ago

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Companions react to the inquisitor having hemophilia! (The medical condition.) Especially romanced Dorian! Thank you!

Cassandra: Solas reported the condition to her during his inspection, and advised caution– even suggesting they avoid combat altogether. Cassandra has met hemophiliacs before– often they’re members of royal families, so it only mildly surprises her. She’s antsy whenever they have to go out where there could be fighting. Usually if they start bleeding, a mage can seal the wound, but it makes her nervous every time. If Romanced: The anxiety she feels when taking him to go close a rift is doubled. She knows his duty, and won’t keep him from it, but she’s exceptionally protective on the battlefield, no matter how much he insists he can fight.

Iron Bull: He figures it out immediately, because they get a cut during the first fight in which they meet him, and it doesn’t stop bleeding. He calls Dalish over to have her close the wound, and suggests they get heavy, full-body armor, regardless of class. The Qun has developed potions specifically for hemophiliacs that help blood clotting, and he manages to get the formula from his contacts in the Ben-Hassrath. If Romanced: He tries to act calm, but the others notice the excess of clotting potions in his bags as they travel, weighing him down, but he never says a word about it.

Blackwall: They get grazed on the arm when they first meet him, and he stops short during their conversation to ask if they’re alright, gawking at the still-bleeding wound. One of the mages seals it, and it’s explained to him that they’re a hemophiliac. He tries not to make them feel self-conscious, but it makes him extremely nervous any time they go into battle with him. If Romanced: His anxiety is turned up to 11. He takes it upon himself to carry clotting potions, and never leaves her side in battle, much to her chagrin.

Sera: She gets gradually more and more concerned when they don’t stop bleeding, until one of the mages handles it. “It wasn’t stopping.” she states, befuddled. “Why didn’t it stop?” The condition is explained to her, and she cringes, hard. “That sounds like complete and utter shite. Don’t go getting like the warriors do in battles, you’ll bleed to death!” If Romanced: She doesn’t want her fighting. “I can’t lose her just because her blood doesn’t know how to fix itself!” she snaps. “I don’t– I can’t– fuck!” She carries clotting potions in her pouch for her and scolds her if she gets too close in combat to the action.

Varric: He hears it from Solas as he prods the apostate following his examination of the prisoner. He’s particularly careful about pointing Bianca around them, and warns them to steer clear of his bolts– and careful with paper. “What sort of story would it be if the hero dies of a paper cut?” he says, half-joking. “Just… be careful, Inquisitor. And bring potions. You’re going to bleed now and then during this adventure.”

Cole: “Warmth oozing out, flowing free and freer, skin whitened, head heavy and light at the same time, it won’t stop, get the healer, it won’t stop. It must be hard. I am sorry. I’ll try to help.” The Herald finds their room significantly more bereft of things that could even remotely break the skin, much to their annoyance, but they know he’s just trying to help. He always seems to pop up with a clotting potion whenever they start bleeding.

Dorian: He knows that hemophiliacs are prized in Tevinter for their usefulness in blood magic, and frequently encounter abuse, slavery, and murder as power-hungry magisters seek them out. However, he’s never actually met one in person before. He jumps when they start bleeding for the first time and don’t stop. “Kaffas! Hold still, I’ll close that for you.” he insists, and makes them stand still while he magically seals the wound. He lets out a weary sigh and looks upon them with worry. “If this was Tevinter, you couldn’t have gone five minutes without a magister trying to snatch you. Please, do be careful, and let me know if you start bleeding– I can fix it.” If Romanced: He’s constantly worried about him fighting– or being near anything sharp. What if I’m not there if he gets hurt and he bleeds out? The thought terrifies him, and during battle, he constantly casts barrier, perhaps more than necessary, on him.

Solas: He discovers the condition when he first inspects them. The wounds they have won’t stop bleeding, and don’t until he magically seals them shut. He hears how long the bleeding lasted, and concludes they have hemophilia. He decides there’s little to do for it but ensure a mage is nearby to help if the Herald is not a mage and cannot close the wounds themselves. If Romanced: There’s almost no difference between this and regular romance, save for the fact that he’s a lot more protective when they go to close rifts, and he seems to spend a lot of time trying to research a better way to manage the condition.

Vivienne: Several members of the Orlesian royal family have hemophilia, so she’s well acquainted with the disorder and how to treat it. She can usually either use her magic or give them potions to aid in clotting if they start bleeding. “It is a dangerous condition, but manageable,” she says, “just do take care, my dear. We can’t have you bleeding out.”

Josephine: She questions the necessity of having the Herald actually fight beyond closing rifts, citing a concern about their condition. Eventually conceding they have no choice, she puts in orders for supplies for potions to clot their blood if need be, and a constant supply of resources is on hand at all times. She also hires the best doctor to look after them. If Romanced: She frets every time they go out; the very thought of them being seriously wounded or dying scares the life out of her, and she starts almost starts crying or actually starts every time they leave to do any fighting.

Leliana: She doesn’t want this knowledge getting out of the inner circle and the healers. Enemies will try to use it against them, and she has more agents watching them than normal, at least at first. Their death spells doom upon all the world, and she will not allow it.

Cullen: He cringes when he hears, and expresses concerns over their fighting; like most of the other warriors, he recommends they train in very heavy armor, regardless of class. If Romanced: His headaches pound worse, not just with lyrium withdrawal, but the fear of losing her heightened. He makes a habit of looking her over for injuries every time she returns to Skyhold and asking her if she’s been harmed. She rolls her eyes when he’s not looking, but allows it; he cares, so much, and she knows it.

#krem-alicious-aclassi #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cassandra #blackwall #iron bull #sera #cole #varric #dorian #solas #vivienne #josephine #leliana #cullen #mod sarah

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ansatsu-database · 8 years ago

Text

Korotan C Rough Summary/Synopsis (Part 4)

June 2016? My goodness, it’s been that long!? Sigh, my work life...

Previously on Korotan C: Princess Lea of Norgo Kingdom visits Kunugigaoka for a Debate Rally, but she's decided to sneak out of her hotel and into the city. Upon saving her from an assassination attempt, Class 3-E and Asano Gakushuu are now bodyguards on a mission to escort her to safety.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Spoilers beware, and remember, this is not intended to be a full word for word translation. This is only so that you have an idea of what is happening.

I have no guarantee that these are 100% accurate

Chapter 4

Taxi would be the quickest way to reach the embassy, but should their enemies discover them, it’ll become easy to mark and ambush. Thus, Karma suggests that they use methods that include crowds of people to make things harder for them.

They’ll use public transport whenever they can, and switch the mediums of travel too. From here, they can take the bus, then switch to train at the station. Of course, some of them have to stay with the princess.

Nakamura then suggests maybe it’ll help if the princess wears a different outfit. Like, she can put on a Kunugigaoka uniform, then someone else dresses in the princess’ outfit.

That idea will put the person dressed in the princess’ outfit in danger of being assassinate though. “Well, even if I say that, you’ll still do it anyway,” Karma quickly realises.

“Same hairstyle, same colour, isn’t that just right? Exactly like the princess who’s being marked! Incidentally, you better protect me, my meat shield!!” said Nakamura.

“Hey! How many times are you going to use me as a meat shield!?” retorted Terasaka.

After Nakamura and Lea swapped their clothing, Yoshida brings the princess a knit cap for her to completely hide her blonde hair.

“Class E keeps on demonstrating an unfathomable level of prowess, whether at the Athletic Festival or the 2nd Trimester Finals, just where did your strength came from?” questioned Asano.

“Well… it was probably… the result of us fighting to the death at the precipice that was Class E…” answered Isogai.

“Isogai-kun… is getting better and better at lying…” remarked Kayano (probably)

“Well… it’s not like he can say that it was all thanks to a Mach 20 superbeing,” replied Nagisa (probably)

Unbeknownst to everyone, someone is spying on them from the shadows.

“Everyone has matured well, getting more and more reliable. Should anything happen, Sensei will be there to help, so just go along with your own daring ideas!”

Suddenly, a dog barks from behind the octopus and he screams. Karma and Asano both heard him, to the former’s exasperation.

The students travel in 2 groups, with Lea grouped together with Asano, Nakamura, Karma and Terasaka. En route to the bus station, Lea gives the ambassador a call, telling him that everything’s fine, and she’s heading now to the embassy.

When the bus arrives, Karma and Asano boarded first to make sure passengers are OK, with Nakamura and Terasaka keep up their guard from behind.

Karma sits at a window seat closest to the emergency exit, with Lea next to him, and Asano standing next to her. Nakamura and Terasaka then sit to her front and rear, completing a cross-formation that defends Lea in the center for their travel.

But during the bus journey, Karma decides to lighten things up with small talk, to Asano’s chagrin.

“Hey, don’t you forget that we are supposed to be protecting the princess! Don’t relax your guard, we’re not here for sightseeing!”

“While keeping up your guard is important, it’s still a long way to the embassy, so there’s no way to maintain such a high tension for the whole trip.”

“It’s because you carry such optimism like so many others who’ve given up on hard work that you…”

“Besides, if you want to pursue perfection in being a bodyguard, then before the princess made her suggestion, you should’ve taken the first step, so being adaptable is another essential skill to have.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to be a bodyguard! And on the social side of things, I have plenty of experience.”

Lea watches with amusement at the banter between the two.

She remarks that “Karma” is an odd name, is it common in Japan? He reckons he’s the only one in Japan to have it, it’s a name that his always-travelling parents with their strange tastes came up with.

Isn’t that lonely, what with his parents not being at home? He thinks he’s actually freer this way, as long as they don’t mind his business he’s got no objections. Lea feels envious at the relationship the Akabanes have.

Karma then brings her attention to Asano’s family. Normally, if you have the school’s board chairman for a father, then you would get all sorts of special treatment, and everything is fine and dandy, but not for Asano-kun. Never mind special treatment, the way he kept working hard to stay at the top is considered “that’s how it should be”, that’s just…

[“You know nothing! Can you cease with your blabbering! Since ancient times, the only ones who become rulers are the strong. That is my father’s compass of education, and one that I believe to be correct. I never yearned for any warmth between father and son, and I have no interest in discussing such relationships with someone who likes to gossip like Akabane. So whether it’s this guy, or my father, I will rule over you all, over all of humanity. That is my calling, and I take joy in living in this calling.”]

[“Pfft,”] blurted Nakamura. [“So cool, Asano-kun! But I think that’s just a load of hubris.”]

[“There’s no helping it if it’s seen as hubris, although, I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing to be undeterred by the gazes of others and stick to your beliefs. But if it were me, there’s no way I would ignore how others around me sees things, or the expectations from my parents or my citizens. I would stick with my beliefs while carrying all the pressure and responsibility, and I would hate to act like I’m losing to that pressure!”]

[“Indeed, running away is no good.”] (Don’t know who says this)

Seeing his retaliation, Lea lightly pats him on his upper arm.

[“Let’s not talk about this anymore, Gakushuu is too perfect, it’s boring.”]

[“Expectations from others is proof of your worth, and as for how this strength is to be used, it’s completely decided by me, by my freedom. I decide where my life leads to.”]

(He was so serious that Karma and Nakamura opted not to tease him here)

[“From now on, I shall etch your words into my heart. I will believe in myself and do the things that I believe in, and I shall not falter and continue forward, no matter what those around me say. But conversely, please remain in contact with me as much as possible.”]

[“Then you had better keep up with my growth.”]

Seeing how the two have been using such tough language against one another, Karma can’t help but feel excited. [“My oh my~ Don’t you think those two suit each other a lot?”]

[“Can you not make such low-levelled jokes!?”] Asano angrily stares at Karma.

[“Aha, he’s angry now~ Asano-kun is so cute~!”] [“He does like the princess huh~!”]

Asano’s strong tone only got Karma and Nakamura more fired up.

[“When this is over, if you dare to spread this sort of rumour, I’ll use all the power in the school to massacre you!”]

[“So scary~”]

She may’ve been the butt of the joke, but Lea holds in her laughter and turns to the windows. The appearance of her excitedly gazing out at the scenery of the passing streets presents a temperament of both girlish innocence and royalty. Asano involuntarily looked at this from a side view, but when he suddenly sensed a devilish gaze coming from Karma, he hurriedly turned back towards the front.

“Hey! Can’t you all speak with some simpler English? I couldn’t hear a lick of it!” said Terasaka.

“Man, you just had to do it, breaking up this lovely atmosphere?!” retorted Nakamura, as the bus slowly approaches the train station.

Meanwhile, the second group had already taken another bus, arrived at the train station and got into formation. Some went to check the surroundings for any assassins that may be in hiding, while others remain nearby gathering intelligence on the situation.

In front of the station, Nagisa and Kayano are throwing out snacks to the pigeons nearby, with more and more gathering, and even landing on their heads and shoulders and pecking at the snacks in their hands. Isogai and Maehara, on guard nearby, wonder if they’re alright, but it’s part of Karma’s plan, what can they do?

The “escort” bus now arrives at the station. Maehara spotted that one of the people waiting in line to board is dressed in black and reading a newspaper. And as the passengers gradually exit the vehicle, he leaves the queue and approaches them.

Isogai can see that the man has something in his hand, probably a syringe. He calls out to Nagisa before the duo runs towards the bus.

“CLAP” With a sound from Nagisa’s hands, the pigeons all flew towards the airspace around the bus. The man in black was distracted for one moment, and when he looked back, he’s face to face with his target. Well, someone who was supposed to be his target, smiling.

“Eh??? Did you see the princess?” Seeing Nakamura’s grin, the assassin knows that he messed up, and Isogai takes this chance to bat away his syringe with a rolled-up notebook. Not giving him any leeway, from behind Nakamura, Asano sends a kick his way and knocks him out.

The assassin had two more accomplices, and after seeing his defeat, they retreated to their car. But when they opened the door, they saw that the wheels had all fallen down to the side of the road. Next thing they knew, they’re strapped to their seats with duct tape.

[“You are under arrest.”] Nearby the station was Korosensei, dressed in police uniform while chewing bubble gum and playing with the duct tape roll. Next to him is Yoshida with a wrench and Muramatsu with a carjack, snickering that the assassins were way too obvious with their black clothes, black car and bubbling bloodlust.

“Korosensei, did you come to help us?” asked Nagisa. Having heard from Karasuma and Kataoka, at first Korosensei wanted to bring the princess to a safe place at Mach speed. But since he’s not allowed to do that, he can only support the kids, ensuring that the princess makes it to the destination and that his students are safe as well.

By the way, he took the chance to clean away the pigeon feathers and droppings on Nagisa. “Wha? When did that happen!?”

As thanks, he gives the leftover snacks to a delighted Korosensei. In exchange, he gives his bubble gum to Nagisa before disappearing at Mach speed.

#ansatsu database #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #Korotan #asano gakushuu #Shiota Nagisa #kayano kaede #akabane karma #Nakamura Rio #terasaka ryoma #Isogai Yuuma #Maehara Hiroto #yoshida taisei #Muramatsu Takuya #korosensei

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joie-university-rp · 5 years ago

Photo

VITYA ALEXSI CRISTO is a NINETEEN year old FRESHMAN who lived in VLADIVOSTOK, RUS before coming to attend Joie University. HE is majoring in CREATIVE ARTS and minoring in GEMOLOGY. Some believe he looks like BILL SKARSGÅRD but VITYA just doesn’t see it. VITYA is currently a TAKEN character.

Student Census Response

What made you want to attend Joie University? It is a secure campus with a good curriculum. The housing seems nice and the students friendly enough. I am looking for a place to plan roots, to get started in life, and I want it to be here. There are loads of opportunities here and I want to find them.

What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess? I’m intelligent. Beyond the classroom. I am good at reading people, what they want or need from me, which helps me understand my task. I know what I want, so I am very direct and leave little room for misinterpretation. I also have a morbid curiosity that can get me into trouble. All of these combined makes me somewhat abrasive, but that is their loss. And I am not very personable. I’ll do what needs to be done of me, but ask if I want to watch a rom-com with some popcorn, and I’m going to have to say no.

Which of your traits do you value most? My directness. If I know what I want, and it isn’t what someone else wants, then I know I need to look elsewhere. I’m not going to waste time, which is better for both involved.

How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole? Being Russian, I’m a cultural novelty that many haven’t seen before. The fact you Americans have to wait to twenty one to drink was a major newsflash for me, so now I have to wait three more years when I already was drinking back home. The more I learn about America, the more others can learn about the motherland, beyond what some media figurehead tells us.

What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU? The obvious answer to this is a degree, but anther answer is possible dual citizenship. I hope through this, I will be able to travel between Russia and America with more than just a student visa. I truly believe I can call America home, if given the chance.

What is a quote or song lyric that describes you? “Do you realize I’m the man and I’m in my prime? And it’s my time, I swear to God I won’t waste no time. You ain’t worth a dime, no, you ain’t worth a dime. Still on my mind, you’re still on my mind.” – ‘Let Me Know (I Wonder Why Freestyle)’ by Juice Wrld

Additional Headcanons

TWs: Depression, suicidal tendencies, under age sex/drinking

#biography #cristo #Taken #male

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