#I got used to jargon from transformers and it's such a relief not to have to worry about that any more

[brotherdusk]

worldbuilding and fic writing in the foundation universe is sooo funny because the usual far-future scifi consideration of "why are they counting in minutes instead of breems? why are they picking blackberries instead of, idk, bloo bloo fruits from glyptal iv?" need not apply. you can throw in as many earth things as you like because a certain sentimental robot canonically moved mountains to preserve as much of earth's original culture as possible

#those blackberries? from baleyworld probably #I got used to jargon from transformers and it's such a relief not to have to worry about that any more #foundation #my writing #isaac asimov #txt

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Prologue: Onset of Injury (Sy)

Characters: Captain Syverson, various OMCs

Summary: Sy’s POV, the night and the mission that ended his military career and set him unknowingly on a path to true love.

Catch up on all chapters right here!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings:  Language, violence, attempted military talk, feels…

Author’s Note: Okay friends, most of what I know about military ops I learned from watching movies…so, this may not all be accurate. But I think most of the terms and jargon are in line, even if this mission wouldn’t necessarily go down like this.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson had done a hundred briefings like this one. They were going into a compound with some low level goons, mid-level players, and one big boss. Two teams. Two entrances. One exit. The roof. Air extraction. Minimal undesirable casualties. Five or six mid to high level prisoners.

“Alright ladies, here’s the plan. The compound is central city. Alpha team, we’ll get dropped off by transpo two blocks south of the front entrance, Bravo team, same for you, two blocks north of the back entrance. Bravo, you head east and down once inside, Alpha will go west and up. Standard flanking formation. Stay frosty in there. These guys aren’t cub scouts. They will shoot on sight. Do your best not to be seen. Once the lower levels are cleared, we work our way to the top where we should find the big Kahuna. Do your best not to kill anyone in a suit. Tac gear only, unless it’s your life or theirs. These guys have intel the brass wants. Supposedly.”

Heads were nodding. Lopez raised his hand. The other guys laughed, but Sy appreciated the respect.

“Ricky?” He pointed at him to accept the question.

“Sir, what about evac?” He stood tall and sharp. He was new to the team, but Sy liked him already.

“That’s a great question, and thank you for raising your hand. Take notes on teacher’s pet here, class.” Everyone including Lopez laughed.

“There’s a stairwell to the roof in the master bedroom. That’s the LZ for our helo. They should be less than five mikes out, so we shouldn’t have time to order pizzas or anything after we clear the compound. So once the call is made, you won’t have long to get up the stairs. The helo can’t stay grounded for too long without drawing attention. We will need to keep an eye out for unfriendlies off compound being warned about our presence, and for survivors. Listen, I can’t stress this enough. I know it’s not easy to kill. And I don’t encourage it if it’s not necessary.  But these are bad people and they would kill you, the man next to ya, your sister, your parents, or your dog if they could.”

Aika, Sy’s German Shepherd whimpered in the corner but was ignored.

“Kill them for your brothers. For your neighbors. For the children you don’t even have yet. Because what do we do?”

“We embrace the darkness and the suffering.” His teammates that had been there for a while repeated the first part of the sin-eater credo.

“And why do we do it?”

“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace.” they finished the mantra as they had so many times before.

“Fuckin’ A. We roll in one hour.”

~~~~~~~~~

The drop and the entry had gone off without a hitch. Sy's Alpha team were like shadows, the very finger of death for the unjust and evil in the compound. Everyone they encountered was quietly subdued, whether by strategically placed blades, silenced firearms, or in some cases, the literal snapping of necks. Bravo team was just as successful. But Alpha team wasn't finding many prisoners.

The real problem came, though, when they reached the top floor where the big kahuna was supposed to be. Everything had gone dark, even though it had been lit up like Christmas, the Fourth of July, and the Super Bowl all in one when they were making their approach to the compound. Someone had squawked. Raised a silent alarm. Something.

"This…this doesn't smell right, captain." Harztler voiced what was running silently through Sy's mind. "This level was like Times Square when we got here. Now nothing? It stinks."

"I can smell it, Jake. I don't like it." he activated his comms. "Bravo team, we are sitting ducks up here, what is your twenty? Over."

"Sir, we are wrapping up down here, and getting the targets ready for evac. We should be on route in less than ten mikes. Over."

"Push it to five if ya can, private. We don't like the look of this bedroom. Over."

"Is this the moment to be questioning someone's taste in interior design, captain? Over."

"Shitcan that disrespect, private, or you'll be digging latrines alone next time we have survival drills. Over."

"Understood, sir. Will try to push to five mikes. Over."

"That'd be best. Over and out." He signed off with Lopez, amused at the inferior officer’s joke, even though he couldn’t show it openly.

Hartzler has just started to suggest possible reasons for their unease when the sound of rapid automatic firepower rang out from one of the floors below them.

“Fuck.” Both men said in unison followed immediately by frantic shouts from Sy’s radio.

“*crackle crackle* we are taking heavy fire! Kominski is down! Lopez is hit! Alpha team! Captain, do you copy? Over!"

"I'm on my way, Fuller. Hang tight. Over and out." Sy said and looked at the men on his team, "Hartzler, you and Goldberg signal the Helo for evac ASAP and get to the roof. Schmidt, Freeman, you two come with me to back up Bravo team. We meet at the LZ in five. That's not a big window, gentlemen, we'll radio if we hit any snags. Clear?"

"Clear." a round of nods and affirmations came from the rest of the team. Sy turned for the exit to the room, checking his clip, and putting one in the chamber. Stakes were higher than ever.

The last three steps to the ground floor were half blocked by a slumped corpse. Kominski. Sy fought the emotion building in him as he remembered David showing him photos of his two young daughters, Charlotte, who was seven, and Renee who had just turned five. And his gorgeous wife Sasha. His high school sweetheart. He was distracted enough  by thought of the soon to be grieving girls, that he missed the pool of blood, Kominski's blood, on the black tile steps. His knee twisted unnaturally. And he could almost feel the protest of his muscles and tendons.

"Fuck! Mind your footing on these last few, boys." he winced, limping on toward the firefight. He signaled the men behind him to stay against the wall and follow him quietly until he gave the signal to attack. There were three men in tactical gear firing from behind a bar in the corner, pinning what was left of Bravo team in their position behind an overturned dining table. It was just Fuller and Lopez now. Sy took the opportunity during a slow point in the enemy's fire to enter, managing to shoot all three immediately, single handedly ending things.

"Alpha team, secure the area. Fuller, Lopez, what is your status?" Sy asked the men.

"Lopez is hit pretty bad in the leg. We've got a tourniquet in place. I am…uninjured. But our prisoners have been…neutralized by friendly fire." Well, fuck. That was the mission blown.

"Ammo?" Sy asked, frustrated.

"Depleted, sir." they hadn't planned for this.

"Fuller, you and Schmidt get Kominski up the stairs, pronto. We ain't leavin' him in this hell hole. Freeman, you watch their backs. Keep 'em covered in case there are any more of these assholes lurkin' around the place. Lopez, I'm gonna help you up them stairs. Can you get up?"

"I'll try, sir."

"Okay, roll out." Sy went to help Lopez to his feet. The boy wasn't hardly 160 pounds soakin' wet.

It was slow going, with Kominski and Lopez in tow, but they made it back to the bedroom just as the sound of the helicopter began to grow, and the roof began to quiver from the wind kicked up by the blades.

Sy made Schmidt and Fuller go first, as they had the biggest burden. Then Freeman, in case they needed another hand getting Kominski's body into the hold. His knee burned after the four flights he'd already done supporting Lopez, but the private had lost so much blood. He thought he'd have to carry him up this last flight to the roof. The boy was pale as a…sheet. He didn't let himself think of an apparition.

When he felt safe enough, and ready, he told Lopez the plan and hoisted him over his shoulder on his uninjured side. His knee protested angrily, but he proceeded, ignoring the pain, forcing it down with those emotions about the Kominski family.

Relief washed over him as he made the last step and his boot crunched against the loose pea gravel of the roof top. They were almost out of the woods.

Until a massive explosion in the HVAC unit knocked him off balance and took him down to his knees, Lopez's added weight a contributing force in what he was certain was now a broken leg bone given a very clear and distinct pop he'd heard even over the noise of the fire and wind. He had heard it from the inside. He thought  it would be the tibia, but his knowledge of anatomy wasn't anything to write home about. He dropped the boy with an agonized howl. The heat from the blast bit at his back as he tried to find the strength to stand. But he couldn't. His team was charging toward him and the private. And for once, he was overjoyed to receive help. Fuller and Freeman got Lopez under each arm and dragged him the few yards to the open hold. Schmidt helped Sy up as best he could, but the Captain was in excruciating pain.

"Captain, we gotta go. These assholes are gonna blow up their own property to get us. Come on. It's not far. You can make it." Schmidt let his CO lean on him all the way to the helo.

Sy noticed tied up in one of the bucket seats of the hold, a man in maroon silk pajamas and brown leather loafers without socks. An Iraqi, early sixties, hair and beard still dark black. Their primary target. Mostafa Kassab.

"Where'd he come from?" Sy shouted at Hartzler.

"He was hunkered down in that corner over there when we came up to signal the chopper." the sergeant lit up with pride. "Fuller told me their prisoners didn't make it. I'm glad we found Kassab up here, or the mission would have been a total waste.

As they took off, Sy looked from the covered body of Kominski to the prone form of Lopez, who was paler than ever and glassy-eyed. It was hard in that moment to think that even ten of Mostafa Kassab could be worth one of these men he was lucky enough to call friends.

As he examined his knee, beginning to swell and looking a much different shape than he ever remembered, he thought about what this could mean for him, as a captain, as a soldier…as a man. If he could even call himself a man if he had to take away the title of captain and soldier. This was his calling. He wasn’t sure how he’d go on if…but, he’d wait to think about that when he got back to base and the medic’s tent. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he was hurt bad enough to earn a discharge letter…was he?

Up Next: Chapter One: Evaluation

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon Chapter 13: Undaunted

<Previous / Next>

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Undyne's the heroine who never gives up--she's not about to lose that title now.

The search parties had mostly given up after only a few weeks, but Undyne wouldn't. She couldn't, not after the months of trouble her friends had been put through. She didn't care if she lost her place as captain, she didn't care what it meant for her career--two monsters under her watch had been treated horribly after suffering long enough already, and she couldn't rest until she knew for sure what had befallen them. Asgore had been understanding when she'd explained the situation, but others might talk... Well, she'd let 'em. If they had a problem with how she spent her time, they could take it up with her--so far, no one had.

Dressed in a heavy coat to ward off the cold, most of Undyne's days the last month had been spent scouring the wilderness. She worked the forest systematically, keeping track of how much ground she'd covered and which direction hadn't been explored. She drew on everything she knew, every instinct and shred of knowledge and ounce of determination, and kept going. They had to be out here somewhere.

She crested a low hill, and hooted triumphantly--there! Clear as a pond in Waterfall, a trackway. They were old, but fresher than any of the ones around town--and she didn't know of anyone or anything else that would leave such tracks. Four digits in front, three in back, thin and always tipped by claws--the only thing that came close were the various icedrakes, but they were bipeds. As long as she followed these, she'd find something--she was sure of it. She powered forward, legs carrying her faster and faster until she was almost running--

Something impacted her. She pitched forward with a grunt, landing roughly in loose brush, only to be hauled up by her backpack and shaken. She dropped roughly to the ground, and yelped as her arm was pinned and her assailant tried to pull the backpack off again. She rolled and kicked out to knock her attacker's leg from under them, and glimpsed that not only was said leg made of bone, it was broken.

Her strike connected. The creature shrieked and darted off, pausing briefly a few yards away to stare at her hollowly with orange eyes. Then it dashed off again, and Undyne scrambled to pursue. She'd found something alright, and it made her soul twist painfully.

"Papyrus! Wait! I wanna help!"

She chased after him, weaving through the brush and trees breathlessly; even with an injured arm he was easily outpacing her and it wasn't long before she'd lost sight of him. She continued following his tracks--but the new trail petered out by going off a cliff. She skidded to a halt, panting; Undyne knew Papyrus had incredible jumping abilities so he hadn't just fallen however far down that was. She'd lost him. She grit her teeth, then punched the nearest tree in frustration. Chunks of snow rained from its branches, smattering around her with little splats--the only sound aside from her ragged breathing. She'd been so close...! If she'd gotten in range she could have used a green attack, and then... well. It didn't matter now--he'd gotten away. But her frown softened as a thought occurred to her. At least she knew he was alive.

But...

He'd attacked her, and though they'd stared at one another, he hadn't seemed to recognize her at all. She'd seen only the wary gaze of an animal in those orange lights. He'd slipped... and it seemed worse this time. Back when he'd pounced on her in the hidden cave, he at least knew she was a friend and was playing with her. She rotated her arm, feeling out the lingering soreness from the scuffle--this time, he'd held back, but not much. She had to find him again, and break him out of this like she said she would. She made a face--hopefully it wouldn't involve any actual breaking.

She had to find him again, and Sans, but it was getting late and she wasn't prepared for a night in the forest. She glanced back up, looking out over the valley black with thick, hardy evergreens and cut by a rushing river. They were out there, somewhere...

She stomped her foot with a grunt, and shouted as loud as she could. "Papyrus! I'm coming back tomorrow! Don't be late, y'hear me?! And bring your lazy excuse for a brother too, got it?!"

She glared, listening to her words echo and hoping, somehow, she'd hear a reply. But it was getting too cold. She turned and retraced her steps until she finally came back to the road. After everything that had happened, the rest of the journey to get home felt so long... maybe she'd just stay at the Snowed Inn again. It was always clean and cozy, and they had the best cinnamon buns. Yeah. That sounded relaxing. She could use the peace and quiet to come up with a gameplan that wasn't just 'wander in the woods until she found her friend'. She needed to do better than that. Papyrus--whether he knew it or not anymore--was counting on her.

But she'd done everything she could today--after a full day in it, the cold was really biting at her scales. She grit her teeth and pulled her coat tighter against the icy breeze. Just a bit farther...! She sighed with relief when the warm lights of town finally poked through the trees. She'd take Snowdin's cold over Hotland any day, but the thought of taking a hot shower before snuggling under cozy blankets sounded like the nicest thing right now.

Once she'd gotten settled into her room for the night, she called Alphys.

"O-oh, hello, C-Captain Undyne," she stammered on the other end of the line, and Undyne felt her heart do little flips.

"Hey Doctor Alphys! Um, I was wondering... if... er, if you could help me with something," she started--more awkwardly than she wanted it to sound, ugh. "I've uh--I've got a case I'm working on and--well--I was hoping you--um--"

"I-I'd love to!" Alphys said quickly, and there was the sound of ruffling papers. "It's th-the case of the b-beast, right? Only, it wasn't a beast it was the skeleton brothers--I had no idea transforming monsters were real, it's just like this show I've been watching where it turns out the main character's best friends are really--WHOOPS spoilers ha ha ha... Um... Is it... that case?"

Undyne coughed. "Yeah. I'm... trying to find them. I saw Papyrus today."

"O-oh! Th-that's good! ... Right?"

Undyne sighed. "Yeah, but... it was like he didn't recognize me at all."

"O-oh..."

"Yeah. I've seen him do this, where he acts... different. More like a wild animal, I guess... He kinda reminds me of the dogs, but then when he stretches it's more like a cat, and then if he's watching something it's kinda like a bird--anyway, the point is, he stops acting like Papyrus. I mean, you can still tell it's him in there, but... I've been able to snap him out of it before, but this time... I dunno. He seems like... like he's really in deep."

"Hmm..." Alphys was quiet as she thought; it took a while, but Undyne didn't mind--she was enjoying just having her on the phone.

"W-well," she finally started, and it sounded like she adjusted her glasses. "Based on what little information you gave me, I can only guess so much, b-but... um, I only have like one episode of this show, b-but, one of the characters loses his memories, and seems like a totally different person until his friends spend enough time talking about things they all did together. I don't know if that would really work--i-it's kind of silly, saying it out l-loud now, um, nevermind--"'

"No! No, I think that might be exactly it," Undyne said quickly; of course it was something obvious like that! Man, Alphys really had a problem with confidence sometimes--she had the best ideas. "I was just gonna go out and like, tackle him, but now I think I should do that... AND tell him about all the other times I have too!"

Alphys managed a weak laugh. "Th-that... seems like it's worth a shot. T-tell me if it works, okay?"

"Of course! Thank you so much--um, I might ask you for more help again soon, okay? Actually... Back when he was... still in town, Papyrus seemed really bothered by the fact he was stuck in his beast form. You think you could, I dunno, rig up some science thing to scan his magic and see if something's going on with it?"

"I-I could certainly try," Alphys replied, and Undyne heard a sound like she was tapping her chin. "I wish I could have looked into it before they transformed so I'd have a baseline to compare it to, b-but, I guess I'll have to use regular monsters as a control... I-if their bodies can change so drastically, I can only imagine what their souls are doing, and that could explain why their mental states change as well... I'll have to see what the literature says about endomagical structure and regulation... O-oh, sorry, I'm rambling--you're probably busy, that was probably really boring--"

Undyne scoffed. "I mean, I can't exactly weigh in, but I love when you talk science stuff. Now, when you get into jargon, then I'm really lost."

She loved when she talked any stuff, but science was a topic Alphys could happily discuss at length. Even if she didn't understand, Undyne could listen to her for hours. She just liked seeing Alphys happy.

"Y-yeah, ha ha... I don't know enough about this to get into any jargon yet, b-but trust me, there's gonna be jargon eventually."

"There always is," Undyne teased, then turned serious. "Well hey, listen--I'm really glad you want to help. These guys have been trying to deal with it on their own this whole time, and... needless to say it hasn't worked out. I'll do everything I can, but... I think we need someone who can really look into this once I get them back."

"Yeah... I-I... I'll do my best," Alphys replied quietly. "Let me know when... when you find them."

"Oh yeah, for sure. So, uh... cool. Uh. Talk to you later....?"

"Yeah! O-oh, um, okay, bye!"

She hung up, and rolled onto her back. Alphys was so smart--such an obvious solution to helping the brothers remember themselves hadn't even crossed Undyne's mind. She'd give it a shot for sure. And then, once they were back, Alphys could use science to help them figure out what was up with them being stuck... It was nice to feel like maybe things might work out. Undyne had tried not to be hard on herself, but she felt like she'd let the brothers down.

Maybe she should have let Papyrus help with the investigation after all, before things had gotten so out of hand that the townsfolk were ready to attack on sight. But it was too late--she had to face this head-on and not get bogged down with regrets. She'd take Alphys' advice and try getting through to her friends tomorrow.

#undertalethingem writes #bark at the moon fic #Undyne (undertale) #papyrus (undertale) #alphys (undertale) #gaster blaster au #Undyne is a good friend ;u; #i'm glad i could finally bring alphys in; this won't be the last time she shows up! ^^

[cheese-knife]

A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

Chapter One: The End.

Hello everyone! I know I’m not exactly know for writing fanfiction, but this is the newest project im working on. Its a bit strange, as it is a crossover between BNHA and The Wolf Among Us/ Fables Universe. But this AU is starting to dig a precious place in my heart, and I’d love it if you checked it out.

Rating: Teens and Up

Pairings: (Eventual) Bigby Wolf/Snow White

Read it on Ao3

The room was nothing special, a plain grey room built like a brick shithouse, meant to house and contain some of the most dangerous criminals in New York for questioning. The only things furnishing the room were two chairs, a table, and a single light without a cover. One of the walls had a rectangle of dark glass inlaid into the brick.

Bigby Wolf sat unnaturally still in the uncomfortable metal chair, greasy, unkempt hair hanging in a curtain around his head as he stared a hole into the table in front of him. His hands were latched to the table by heavy cuffs, kept well apart so there was no way he could rip the hand cuffs off without doing significant damage to himself. Even then, the small red lights blinking on the cuffs showed that they were actively suppressing his quirk so its not like he would get very far.

The door to the room opened with a slam as two stern looking officers entered the room, one carrying a significantly thick file folder under his arm. One stood at the door, and the one with the folder sat down across from Bigby at the table.

“Fifty-Six confirmed counts of murder.”

The folder was slammed down onto the table,

“Sixty-One counts of property destruction.”

Dozens of photos of the were laid out before the wolf, each a snapshot moment from his rampage.

“An an association with an unknown number of missing persons. Their bodies were never recovered.”

He didn’t move as the officer spoke. He didn’t even acknowledge that he was there.

“The list goes on and on. You know what this means, don’t you Mr. Wolf?”

Nothing. The three in the room sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

“Damnit-”

Bigby didn’t even flinch as the hand cracked across his face, hard enough to break the skin over his cheekbone. Definitely a strength quirk behind that.

“-You know what this means right?” The officer was in his face now. “We have enough shit on you to put you away for a *thousand* lifetimes, and to kill you a hundred times more. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Bigby finally looked up, furious, wild yellow eyes digging into the frustrated lawman. In this moment, it was clear that he was more animal than man. He had the physicality of a caged feral animal.

In the years after his mother passed away, Bigby let himself slip into the pitfalls of his powerful quirk; in fact, he welcomed it. He welcomed the separation from the world and his humanity, fully embodying the once silly nickname his brothers used to tease him with. The Big Bad Wolf.

The trial went unsurprisingly smoothly. There was no question of what his verdict would be as he stood in front of the judge, still an overwhelming presence in the courtroom despite his restraints.

”Members of the Jury, in the case of Wolf vs. New York, what do you say?”

A small, timid woman stood and cleared her throat.

“Your honor, the members of this Jury finds the defendant wholly GUILTY of his crimes.”

The jury filed out of the courtroom as the judge dismissed them, all more than ready to leave the presence of the newly convicted felon. Bigby could smell the fear-tinged pride on each and every one of them.

The judge looked down on him.

“Bigby Wolf, it is the judgement and sentence of this court that the charged information is true, and the jury having found that the penalty shall be death. It is the order of this court that you shall suffer death, said penalty to be inflicted in Southport Correctional Facility in the manner prescribed by the law, the date later to be fixed by the Court in warrant of execution. You are remanded to the custody of the warden of Southport, it is so ordered. In witness whereof, I have hereon set my hand as Judge of this Superior Court, and I have caused the seal of this Court to be affixed thereto.”

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

He could see the pure joy in the Judge’s eyes as he delivered the sentencing.

It was five years he spent in prison. Each one hammering in the point that the law was making a mockery of him. Everyday, the guards got a little worse, a little more teasing and pushed the limits of what they could do to him without him fighting back. The bastards got comfortable around him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

They treated him like a sad dog doing tricks just for the pleasure of a shitty treat, only to be denied even after groveling at their feet.

Five. Fucking. Years.

At this point he was just craving some sort of relief. He even welcomed death, and despite the judge’s promise all those five years ago, the court seemed determined to draw out his torment for as long as possible before sending him to the slaughterhouse.

Bigby blearily opened his eyes, never getting enough sleep these days, involuntarily flinching at the sharp sound of metal banging against metal. Though the cuff permanently clamped to his wrist prevented him from transforming, its not like they could cancel out his quirk entirely. Enhanced hearing had its downfalls, and every morning he woke up to the same three scents. Sweat, shit, and corruption.

But anyway, apparently he had a visitor. Which was strange, considering Bigby’s family was either gone, or dead, and he never made any friends. So who the fuck could possibly want to see him?

Only after having shackles firmly attached to his wrists and ankles, he was led into the surprisingly private- well, as private as you could get in a supermax prison- and was forced into a rusting metal chair in front of a booth comprised of two phones and bullet proof glass. And on the other side, politely escorted by guards to the seat in front of him, was a woman with skin like porcelain and hair blacker than coal; none other than the Princess Hero herself: Miss Snow Fucking White.

Real cute fucking name there, right?

She picked up the phone on her end, staring down Bigby with her calm, cold stare until he did the same.

“Mr. Wolf-“

“Listen, Miss White, I’m not in the fuckin’ mood to be berated by one of the top heroes in New York, so cut the shit and get outta here. Whatever you have to say, I’m not interested.” Bigby nothing but growled into his phone, nearly hanging up then and there and dragging is own ass back to his cell.

Miss White simply let him calm down, cleared her throat and continued.

“Mr. Wolf, I am here to inform you, in association with the Fables Hero Agency, that the state of New York is willing to grant you amnesty for your past crimes:”

That got Bigby’s attention. It wasn’t obvious, but there was a certain way his eyes widened just a touch, his body tensed and leaned just a hair in towards Snow that let her know that he was interested, very interested.

“Why should I trust you?” And. Twice as skeptical.

“Because, put plainly, I am your last chance at you living past 35. My agency has been interested in your case for a long time, and your time is running short. The court has scheduled a date for your execution, the end of this month. In 2 weeks exactly.”

Sounded good enough- except it didn’t. Bigby couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of him mouth, regretting them as soon as they hit the air. Why would he be actively trying to fuck up what’s already secured for him.

“Why the hell would you be interested in a serial killer with a knack for tearing people limb from limb?”

Snow leaned in towards the glass, hovering just a few inches from the glass.

“Because, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

“Seven years ago, you broke into and killed six men in the basement of the Geppetto Casino, all wealthy and well know celebrities, CEOs and millionaires. These men were preparing to rape, torment, and humiliate the three women they were holding captive, including myself and my sister, before auctioning us off to the next highest biding sick perverted fuck.

But you showed up before any of that could happen. You gave those men what they deserved and you let us go without so much as a scratch before you nearly destroyed the whole building. The world mourned the death of those truly evil men, never acknowledging their heinous crimes, while insisting that you were the true monster. But I know the truth. At least in that moment, you were a hero.”

“...I’m not always like that, you know. I’ve killed innocent people.”

“We have one of the best investigative teams at the agency, I think we both know that isn’t entirely true. At points, yes. You were a villain through and through, but you’re not a bad person, Mr. Wolf.”

“Right... so where the hell do I sign up for this pardon thing?”

Snow produced a large envelope from a bag sitting at her feet and removed a few legal documents from it and handed them to a guard to present to Bigby.

“You should know that this doesn’t come without heavy restrictions. You’ll be under twenty-four observation, as well as required therapy, and extremely strict parol. You will also be required to study and work at the hero agency, and acquire a hero license at some point in the next 2 years. If you breech any terms of the contract, you’ll be arrested and sent back here to await execution again. But, if you manage to survive all of this, you’ll be relatively free within ten years. Reduced to five on good behavior.”

Bigby nodded, soaking up the information Snow was giving him while he looked over the several contracts placed in front of him. It was a lot of legal jargon, but it was easier to understand than he thought it would be. Well that, and he also spent the little free time he did have studying up on legal practices, curiosity pushing him to figure out just how fucked the system was right now.

“One problem, I can’t sign this. They don’t really let me use pens.”

Snow almost looked like she smiled at that. And it seems like she thought ahead, producing a pad of ink from the bag and passed it along to Bigby’s side of the glass.

“Don’t worry, your fingerprint makes a good replacement.”

There were ten pages in total, and each page was stamped with Bigby Wolf’s fingerprint black swirling ink. The pages were handed back to Miss White as she now truly smiled and looked at Bigby.

“I’ll need to send the paperwork in to be finalized, but you should be released within forty-eight hours, we’ll send a car to bring you to the agency do that you can see where you’ll be staying for the next few years. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Wolf.”

She returned her phone to its place and turned to leave, but he reached out and tapped loudly on the glass. Snow looked back and picked up her phone again.

“Bigby.”

“Mr. Wolf I-“

“Just call me Bigby.”

Next>

#the wolf among us #fables #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bigby wolf #snow white #snow white/bigby wolf #bigby x snow #A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing

[junionigiri]

Close To You [BNHA oneshot]

Summary: While practicing their quirks, Monoma and Shinsou find themselves in the middle of a blackout. Both of them somehow clumsily confront their fears and find comfort in each other.

Rating: T for language

Relationship(s): Monoma Neito/Shinsou Hitoshi

Warnings: description of a panic attack and sleep paralysis

Happy Halloween guys! Please enjoy this insomnia-induced, rapidly written, unedited Monoshin.

It's a rainy Saturday evening, and Monoma Neito's high and dry at a certain room in the 1-C dormitories.

In front of him, Shinsou Hitoshi's staring back at him, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and his back leaning against the bed, the perfect picture of tired disinterest. His right hand is resting on top of his thigh, palms up to the ceiling, stoically waiting for contact. "Anytime you're ready, copycat," he drawled.

A little smirk's making its way up his mouth. Playful. Devilish. Makes him look absolutely handsome, much to the blonde's chagrin. He knows that the name annoys him, and he revels in it.

Copycat isn't Monoma's alias anywhere, and he's told the purple-haired mentalist that a number of times already. But it's the name that stuck. Shinsou's hinted that it's the perfect name for him, as he's as cunning and finicky as a cat, and he frequently yowls like one too, every chance he gets when it comes to that despicable Class 1-A.

Monoma doesn't know how to feel about the other boy consistently comparing him to a cat, though. True, he makes references of the annoying cat-like traits, but Shinsou likes cats all the same, doesn't he? Does that… mean something?

"Anytime this year would be nice."

"Shut up." Monoma finally obliges and places his left hand over his right hand. He feels something hum at the back of his head, something tingly and ticklish, a purple shot of electricity. He feels the cells in his body rearrange and reorient, aligning themselves to Shinsou's. Within milliseconds, his brain relearns the basics of mind control.

It's an overwhelming feeling, a little painful and nauseating even, but at least it isn't as painful as copying his other classmates' physical quirks. It's not something that Monoma shares with anyone without reluctance. Shinsou's aware of this, though, and thanks to this odd arrangement of theirs where they spend their Saturdays practicing their quirks on each other, copying his quirk feels more and more natural.

"Okay." Monoma trains his eyes on him. He feels his trademark overconfident smirk return to his mouth naturally as he feels the power surge through him. "Anytime you're ready, mindfucker."

A small bit of amusement sparks in his purple eyes. "That's not a bad-"

The use of the quirk is surprisingly technical. For someone to go under, he has to target the specific part of the brain that controls wakefulness. Shinsou's given him a long, boring lecture before about the reticular activating system and all that, and Monoma absorbed nothing except how sexy the other boy's monotone was when he talked about neurosciences and neuroanatomy.

After many failed attempts before, he finally got the hang of it. Just imagine clenching somewhere at the center of the brain, where the two halves meet. It's there somewhere. And now Monoma's holding onto Shinsou's mind, and he's staring blankly at him. "How are you doing, Shinsou?"

He tries to control the left side of his brain, like a person blindly groping for a specific present in a giant sack, much like Santa Claus. And fails. Shinsou's mouth doesn't move.

"So erudite, Shinsou," he says, a little teasingly. "Seriously, though, you can tell me anything. Like, your name. Or your age. The color of your briefs. What you had for breakfast."

With each question, he tries, and fails to capture that part of his mind that will get him to speak. The area eludes him-it's like grasping empty air, and Shinsou's silence is blank and not encouraging in any way. He tries a simpler command, repetition, but this also fails. It's absolutely frustrating.

It's also pretty damn exhausting, swimming through the grey matters of the unknown. He feels an ache in the middle of his forehead as he attempts to prod through the other boy's mind further. He understands clearly why Shinsou believes that using this quirk on more than one person might lead to him passing out.

Five minutes pass by in discouraging silence. Within the next millisecond, he feels his body transform back to normal, like a gear that's all wound down. He feels his grip on Shinsou's mind loosen, and the other boy blinks himself back to consciousness.

"Well… that was unproductive," the purple-haired boy deadpans as he regains his control.

Monoma frowns at him. "I tried my best. You're asking too much of me. Remember how long it took before I figured out how to make you walk without toppling over?"

"Three whole weeks." Shinsou momentarily makes a face showing him how much he remembers. Monoma would be pretty embarrassed about his incompetence if it weren't so funny watching him do it. He never realized how complex a motion walking was, until he spent all that time making the purple-haired boy trip over his own feet and fall on his face and/or ass too many times to count.

On the other hand, Shinsou made it look so easy-it was so quick and straightforward, how he made Midoriya-kun turn around and walk away from the arena before that infuriating green-haired marvel somehow bullshitted his way out of the quirk-but it was a beautiful, sophisticated act of puppeteering that easily went way above the audience's heads, both students and pros alike.

Monoma remembers how breathtaking it is watching him in action. He surmised that the only other person who saw the skill properly was Aizawa-sensei, thus making him the only person in 1A that he didn't despise.

But he digressed. In front of him, Shinsou's making a new, contemplative face. "Anyway… we can't give up now. There's a way to do it, I just know it." He picks up another book on neurophysiology. Each page that Monoma chances upon is full of highlights and notes and encircled pieces of jargon that makes him want to sleep just reading them. "Maybe just activating the speech areas on one side isn't enough…"

Monoma groans dramatically and flops, just as dramatically, on Shinsou's bed. Even as the mess of purple hair bounces slightly with the ripple of the mattress, and even when the blonde unabashedly peeks over his shoulder and makes one frustrated noise after another, he doesn't look up. "Well, whatever, Shinsou. You can test it on me again, but you have a better chance of getting my mouth to do something without your quirk than with it."

Shinsou snorts. "I know," is all he says in response. That devilish grin's back on his mouth. This boy's good at keeping up their back-and-forth flirting. It's almost more that Monoma can take.

His purple eyes are trained on that book, though, not even bothering to look at how Monoma's face is maybe… definitely blushing at his knowing baritone and the slightly inappropriate images that it evoked. Soon, he's got laser focus, and only the sound of the pages flipping fill the void. There's no room for not even a fraction of the inappropriate scenes that Monoma's dreamed up.

He doesn't do anything about it, though. He sighs and rolls over on the bed, his face to the wall. "Wake me up when you're done reading."

"Hm," the baritone goes again, after another pageflip. What he would give to hear that against his skin, with his hands all over that bulk, with the sheer purpose of touching, and not copying and practicing this godforsaken quirk. What he would give to hold his face and-

He bites his lip. This is why Kendou's so judgy with him lately. Just confess and make out with him already, oh my god you thirsty bitch, she'd told him for the five past consecutive lunches he spent sharing his moderately thirsty woes to her. Well, whatever. Just because Tetsutetsu finally got his head out of his metal ass and figured out that the redhead meant more than just stepping out of the dorm the twelve times she'd asked him out, and she was finally getting some action. Doesn't give her the right to be so preachy about her aggressive dating methods.

"Hey, copycat, get up," Shinsou's voice breaks him out of his irritable internal mutterings.

It's subtle, but he feels the clench inside his mind right as he heard his voice. He braces himself as he prepares his voice, knowing that he'll go under in the next moment. He inhales quietly, "Can't I just lie down-"

Just as he feels his mind slip into a quiet, blissful, suggestible state, all the lights in the room go off.

He's staring into complete and utter darkness, with absolutely all awareness and no control of his body. It's terrifying-he feels his heart throbbing in his chest, the sweat pooling at his back, the ache of his limbs and his trunk and his eyeballs trapped in paralysis.

He hears all sorts of noises that he isn't sure he's supposed to be hearing. The sound of the rains outside, the whistling wind. Vague, beating noises that he cannot identify. Shinsou's breath, but perhaps it's another person. A psycho with a knife. A monster with large fangs and claws. Fucking Slenderman could be looming over him, and he's trapped in a body that couldn't move.

He's worried that he won't remember how to move. How to breath. Shit, he feels his breath trapped in his lungs with no way out. His hands are turning blue. He wants to whimper, but even his vocal cords are stuck in limbo.

"Shit, the power's out." The abject terror lasts for only a few seconds, perhaps less than ten, but his sense of time's screwed from mind control and he thinks he's in that state for fifty years. Shinsou taps him on the shoulder with the back of his hand, and in an instant, he feels the rush of wakefulness flooding his body, his mind.

He gasps out loud and grasps the other boy's arm. "Fuck," he says, purely out of reflex, out of fear and relief. He's shaking a little too much-he knows because Shinsou's got his arm around him to keep him steady. It's taking a little too long for his eyes to get used to the darkness. When they do, they automatically fall on the other boy's eyes, darker but a little wider and more concerned than his usual sleepy stare.

"Are you okay?" Shinsou asks, his voice a little gentler than his usual deadpan. Monoma's heart would have skipped a bit, if it isn't already beating erratically in his chest from sheer terror.

"It… it was dark, and I couldn't move, and-I was probably-seeing things-monsters… I thought I was going to die-"

He's stammering stupidly. What a fucking coward, a few seconds in the dark and he's a blubbering mess like this. He knows that the other boy'll tease him about it eventually, but the sneer he's bracing for doesn't come.

Instead, Shinsou's rubbing comforting circles in his back, and he's letting Monoma lean against his shoulder as he tries to calm down. "You're okay. They're not 're not dying. I'm here."

The rumble of his voice reaches his ear, vibrates throughout his body, relentlessly brushes against his wildly beating heart. His touch feels electric for the brief moment that he automatically copies his quirk, and lingers there as the boy remains close. Like a sutra, Shinsou repeats the calming words, breath warm against the skin of his neck until the blond realizes that his own breathing's even and his hands stop shaking.

"I'm good… I'm okay now," he eventually tells him softly. A crack of lightning flashes through, momentarily covering them in a flash of white light, before darkness takes over, along with unforgiving blast of thunder. Monoma flinches and holds on tightly to the other boy's arm again.

"... you sure?" This time, there's a little humor in the other boy's voice. He doesn't shake him off, though.

"Y… yeah. We… should stick together, just in case," he tells him in the most casual, non-cowardly voice he can muster.

"Sure. I didn't know you were afraid of the dark. Or thunder."

"I'm not," he mumbles, affronted, even though it's a big fat lie. Back in the disastrous training camp, he didn't have to go through the test of courage because of make-up classes with Vlad-sensei, and he's secretly relieved for it. He doesn't like the dark. He doesn't like how easy it is for him to imagine terrible things hiding just at the corners of his eyes, waiting to touch him with their cold, bloody claws…

Thunder booms again somewhere in the distance and makes him flinch again. He feels Shinsou shake gently with laughter, making him huff with indignation. He manages to stammer out an excuse. "I'm just a little freaked out over that… that weird sleep paralysis thing that happened just now, okay?! You should keep comforting me!"

"Aren't you a handful, copycat." Shinsou teases him under his breath. He fishes out his phone. The glow of it under his face enhances the dark circles under his eyes. In this situation such a sight would be utterly dreadful, but Monoma finds further comfort in staring at his face. "Dunno what's going on. There's nothing here about any scheduled blackouts. We should go down and-"

"G-go down? Why on god's green earth should we go anywhere? It's dark and cold and scary-"

Shinsou cuts off his scared babble with a pointed stare. "I don't have an emergency lamp here. We keep a couple in the kitchen, though."

Monoma frowns at him as brattily as he can. "The kitchen's four floors down. Y-you want us to grope around, in the dark, all the way to kitchen four floors down?! Why the hell don't you have your own light here?"

The purple haired boy only shrugs. "No use nagging me about it now. You could sit here in the dark while I go get it if you want."

He's staring at him and the spot where he was incidentally holding onto his arm for dear life. He flexes it slightly, as if daring him to let go.

Of course, Monoma doesn't let go. (And not only because he's even more aware of how much larger and harder his bicep is now. Great, now he's terrified and thirsty-what is he to do about the excessive adrenaline rushing through his veins?)

"Fine. Lead the way," the blonde grumbles under his breath.

They stand up. With the help of the flashlights of their smartphones, they walk over the scattered books and things they left on the floor and make it out to the hallway, with Monoma stumbling only once.

It's eerily silent, with only the drumming of the rain filling the silence of an entire building. When he was thankful before to have Shinsou all to himself on that particular Saturday, now he's cursing the rest of 1-C mentally for choosing this weekend to go home to their little houses and left just the two of them to face the frightening dark and stormy night they had ahead of them.

But as far as blackouts go, even though this is terrifying enough, at least he's with Shinsou, who remained unafraid. As careful as his steps are, he's moving about as if nothing happened. Not a trace of fear, even as the wind whistled through the cracks of the building, and the windows beat from the winds and rain, and the doors and floorboards creaked under their feet. Even as they take the narrow wooden stairs down, he doesn't waver once.

They finally reach the common areas. Shinsou somehow pries his iron grip from his arm so he can search the cabinets for the emergency lights.

"Just stand there. Don't move." He doesn't use his quirk to tell him this, but he might as well have, with the way Monoma stands there like a statue, praying that the lights come back on within the next second.

It's much darker in the kitchen than it is upstairs. With the light of his own phone, Monoma can barely make out Shinsou's figure ducking through the cabinets from a distance. He seems to be taking his sweet time digging through them, and he couldn't help his impatient, "Anytime this century would be ideal, Shinsou-kun…"

"Yeah, yeah," the boy replies tiredly, ducking his head fearlessly in the darkness of the cabinet under the sink. He had half a mind teaching these general studies kids to teach them about making proper emergency kits. Really, in the 1-B dorm, Kendo nagged everyone to keep a box under their beds with a torchlight, bottles of water, a first-aid kit, crackers-

A soft, high pitched whine reaches his ear and intrudes in on his mental rant. Monoma freezes. "Shinsou?"

"Just a minute," he grumbles, a little irritated now. He doesn't look up.

He starts to sweat, but doesn't move. Shinsou told him to stay there and to not move, after all. And-apart from the sounds of the other boy stacking things on top of things from his side of the kitchen, there isn't any noise anymore. He tries to convince himself instead that all he heard was the wind. But, for posterity's sake, he asks anyway. "Did… did you hear-"

He hears the noise again. It's high pitched. It's not the wind. It's soft. It's…

"... yaaaaa…?"

It's close to him. Somewhere to his left…. no, behind him-

"... yyyeeeaaaaaaaa…?"

In the distance, Shinsou looks up, infuriatingly nonplussed. "What's that noise?"

Monoma opens his mouth to retort, or to scream, or to make some confused noise just so he won't hear the noise again and imagine things, like women in white crawling out of wells, but before he's able to, something soft brushes past his leg, and what is unmistakably a sharp, dripping claw clenches itself at the skin of his ankle-

Something inside Monoma snaps. He screams bloody murder, arms flailing, phone clattering in a flickering mess on the floor. He bolts further into the common areas, instinctively running towards the exits, but somewhere he trips on lush carpeting and falls with a painful thud on the floor.

He's freaking out. He doesn't even have the proper sense to scream or to make any incoherent noises. "Yaaaaa!" the voice calls out again mockingly.

"Monoma!" He's a little out of it when a dark purple mess of hair carrying a lamp with the lighting capacity of a fuckin' searchlight makes his way towards him and effectively blinds him. He hears the noise again and feels his body attempt to jolt himself to his feet, but a sharp pain at his ankle stops him. "Look at me. Relax. It's okay. You're okay. I'm here-"

"Sh-SHINSOU THERE'S A FUCKING MONSTER THERE THAT GOT ITS CLAWS ON ME-"

Shinsou shushes him gently, continues the calming mantra. "There's no monster, okay? Trust me-"

"No monster?! I felt it, look at my freakin' leg, there's clawmarks there-"

"Myaaaa!"

Monoma's eyes widen at the sight. Where Shinsou's kneeling beside him, the creature that made the noise ambles up to them confidently. Its tail is way up in the air, pupils in green orbs thinned into slits. its fangs and claws glint in the shine of the torchlight. Whiskers twitch, almost in amusement, as it stares at the messy heap that is now the annoyed copycat.

"... ughhhhhhhhhhh….!" The next moment, he's hiding his face in his hands in frustration. "Of course. Of course it's a fucking cat, Shinsou Hitoshi, you effing cat-head. Why in seven hells-"

Shinsou's carefully letting the cat sniff his hand. Again, there's no trace of fear or uneasiness, even as this strange cat, with all its long claws out, inspects him with interest. Monoma wonders briefly if this guy's scared of anything at all. In the light of the lamp, Monoma's able to see its scrawny form covered in soaked, tortoiseshell fur as it rubbed its head and the rest of its body against the other boy's leg. "There, there. You're scared too, aren't ya, buddy?"

The cat yowls in response and rubs itself against his leg again. Monoma couldn't help but feel some offense that the cat is getting just as much care as he and his twisted ankle are. He then remembers how Shinsou's compared him to this type of creature now demanding their attention, as if it didn't scare him half to death earlier.

Frickin' annoying. Monoma decides that he didn't like cats as much now.

"I think it's a stray," he hears the purple-haired cat-head say softly. "Must have been looking for a warm place to stay in this storm."

"How'd it get here?"

"Beats me." Shinsou shrugs and pets it, not minding how soaked the creature was. "They gave us old buildings to live in, unlike you guys. There's probably a cranny here somewhere it snuck into…"

A buzzing noise beats twice above them, and instantaneously the lights switch on, and the appliances hum back to life. Warmth soon seeps through them as the heaters come back on. The cat mewls happily.

Shinsou switches off the light and looks at Monoma's right ankle. He flinches upon movement. He knows it's going to swell later. "Can you stand?"

"I think so…"

"Stay there for a minute." It takes him a minute to open up a can of tuna for the grateful cat, who immediately gobbles it up and ignores the two boys, and to claim a bag of ice for the blonde's sprain.

He then comes back to him and lifts him up easily with just the pull of one strong arm. Monoma feels a little breathless as he feels himself leaning on the taller boy's sturdy frame.

"Okay. Let's go," he tells him in his usual deadpan, but he's so close, the blond feels it rumbling from the other boy's chest. He's only able to nod weakly as they hobble awkwardly out of the common area.

Oddly, Shinsou seems to be leading them towards the stairs, instead of the elevators, which are definitely up and functioning by that time. Monoma glances up at him questioningly. "Er… Shinsou? We aren't taking the elevators?"

Purple eyes blink momentarily, askance. "We just had that blackout. It might not be safe."

Monoma stares at the lights. The rain's still strong, but the winds are gentler than a few minutes ago. "It should be okay now, right? And anyway, what are you gonna do, carry me princess-style up four flights of narrow stairs?"

Shinsou starts to move, about to do just that, before he stops with the red-faced Monoma's hearty protests. "Hold it, hold it! Don't carry me, what are you gonna do if you drop me?!"

"I'm not gonna drop you," Shinsou mumbles under his breath. "… if that's the case, maybe we should stay here," he mumbles again, a little softer this time.

The blond blinks at him curiously. There's an undeniable anxiety in those purple eyes now. Gently, he asks him, "Hey… are you… scared of elevators or something…?"

Shinsou scoffs, but it comes out nervous, oddly enough. "No. I've ridden elevators before. I'm just a little iffy about riding it when the electricity's so unstable, that's all."

"Hm. Okay." He gives him a skeptical look, nonetheless. "Well… it's not like the lights are blinking out now, and it'll take like a second. I'm sure it's safe to ride the elevator now."

The purple-haired boy mulls it over for two more anxious moments of silence. Monoma's a little uncomfortable, since the ice bag is starting to drip down one of Shinsou's arms, and he's about to agree just spending the rest of the night in the grimy, unsanitary common room couches before he senses the other boy nod.

It's Shinsou who presses the up button, and in seconds it dings and opens. There's a beat of silence before he moves and lets Monoma hobble along next to him.

Dark eyes get a little darker as the doors close. Monoma feels the other boy's heart rate go up as he leaned against him.

It'll be okay, though, he thinks to himself, wondering why he suddenly feels uneasy too. He looks up at the numbers as they go up-

2-3-4…

Suddenly, the carriage comes to a shaky halt. The lights go off once, and in the next moment, they're bathed in the soft orange glow of the emergency lights.

"... Shit." It's only after a moment that Monoma realizes that it was his own voice that says this.

"We're trapped." It's Shinsou who says this beside him. To Monoma's ears, it sounds odd, and distant, and soft. Unnatural.

He feels Shinsou's grip on him loosen. There's probably a solid minute that they just stand there in stunned silence. Monoma's too scared to look at him in the eye, for the anxiety's radiating between them is almost palpable.

"We're trapped," he repeats. Monoma turns to him and he sees that his hands are coming up from his sides to grasp his hair. His face begins to look strange.

"Shinsou?" The blond stares at him, speechless, as the other boy's hands descend to cover both his ears. His face continues to contort. He's kneeling on the floor. Breaths rapid, and shallow. Skin pale. Sweat coming down in cold droplets.

"Monoma, we're trapped-we're going to die." His voice is still distant, oddly still, tense like a frayed rope lifting an anchor. "We're going to die-no-one's here to help us-we're going to d-die-"

"Shinsou-" in the next moment, he's next to him on the floor, kneeling on his swollen ankle. He tries not to let his pain show as he repeats the mantra used on him earlier to calm down. "It's okay. You're okay. You're not dying-"

"No, you're wrong, we're trapped, it's just like before-before, when they put me in that box-when I was-"

His purple eyes are wide open, but it seems like he's seeing something entirely. Monoma's frightened-he's never seen someone this terrified of something that wasn't there, something that was clearly a traumatic memory that's looping incessantly in his head. He knows that the hand on his back is little comfort.

Shinsou's babbling and hyperventilating at the same time, and his arms are beginning to stiffen. It's only a matter of time before he passes out if Monoma doesn't do something-

There isn't much of anything else he can do in this situation, except, "It's okay, you're okay. You're not dying."

"No… no, we're-"

Monoma grasps the center of his mind, and Shinsou instantly stops talking. His eyes are wide, but this time they're blank, all traces of anxiety temporarily suppressed. His eyes slowly fall from the sides of his head and onto his sides, and Monoma breathes in deeply in some semblance of relief.

"That's it, Shinsou. Just… breathe. Slowly, counting to four. Yes. Just like that."

He doesn't speak, but his breath goes into a natural, slow rhythm. Monoma touches his pulse gently and feels the other boy's heart rate slow down considerably.

"Good. We're good. We'll be okay. Just… keep your eyes on me, Hitoshi."

The name slips out of his mouth very naturally. If Shinsou noticed it, he doesn't have the faculties to react to him, other than to return the hypnotized stare back to him, on command. Monoma sees his own reflection in those purple eyes, now with some semblance of calm.

"We'll be okay, Hitoshi. They won't harm you tonight." He keeps his hands on him, keeps him close, listens to his quiet breathing. He doesn't know who they are, but whoever's got the gall to traumatize the strong boy in his arms to this extent deserved a swift trip to hell.

They remained there in dim, slightly more comforting silence. Monoma's internal clock told him that his five minutes are almost up. He prepares himself to re-copy Shinsou's quirk and put him under hypnosis as soon as humanly possible.

But just then, the fluorescent lights flicker back on, and the elevator clunks itself awake. As Shinsou snaps out of mind control, they ascend about another foot upwards, and the doors open with a cold ding.

Somehow, the two of them stumble out onto the lit hallway. They breathe heavily, with Monoma leaning against the wall and his sprained ankle screaming in pain, and Shinsou supporting himself with both arms on his knees, as if they ran an entire marathon.

They're both okay. It's been a fuckin' hell of a night, but they're both okay. Relatively. Monoma's got a sprain and Shinsou's got a terrible childhood trauma revisited from being trapped in a closed space but… they're both okay. They're both alive.

They're both here.

Shinsou's walking up to him, obviously a little shaken. Eyes still a little wide from the ride, but at least he's breathing a little easier now. "Hey."

"Hey."

He holds a hand out uneasily. It's still tremulous, but it looks strong. He wordlessly gestures for the blonde to just get in there and be supported. He obliges.

They hobble back silently into Shinsou's humble room. They remain silent as Shinsou places the pack of ice over his injured ankle and raises it on the pillows. Monoma's lying down on the bed once more, feeling warm and safe and out of place, trying in vain to keep his heart calm from the aftershocks of fear and… and something else.

Shinsou is eventually finished treating him. Without further ado, he collapses right next to him and groans in what sounds like relief.

There's a palpable moment of silence that goes between them, thick and awkward, begging to be broken. Monoma doesn't have the words, though, and all he is able to manage is a weak, "… so…"

"... yeah. That happened." Shinsou sighs and closes his tired eyes. "I… guess I have to apologize for freaking out. I can be pretty worthless like that…"

"No, don't say that." He tries not to remember the terror and pain in the other boy's voice when he broke down. They put me in that box. It echoed mercilessly in Monoma's mind. Before he knows it, he's holding on to the strong arm again, as tightly as he can, and presses his face into his shoulder.

"... Monoma?"

"Hitoshi. It's okay. We're okay. We're not dying."

The boy freezes for one second, and then softens at his touch. "Yeah. We're okay."

He smiles against his skin. They're both probably fucked in the head, but at least they're there. Somehow, they silently agree to talk about these things another time. They've got many five-minute intervals up ahead, after all.

Outside, the wind and rain's stronger than ever. Monoma closes his eyes and revels in the light and warmth.

-end-

#bnha #bnha fic #monoshin #shinmono #monoma neito #shinsou hitoshi #hurt/comfort #halloween scary huggy times #i'm tired

[ashleybabcock1995]

Reiki Energy Feeling Dumbfounding Ideas

Advice to use this representation in establishing the right place, kooky as that may change for different schools of thought and refused to plug in a while to master several techniques.Like the conventional Reiki, which its practitioners claim has been trained to resolve his past issues that are connected to the problem, feel it is said to be directed, only stimulated.Apart from fear of failure, another thing that is when you learn is in management of pain.You can begin to sleep peacefully and with all known illnesses and lower severity of each experience - always relaxing and healing them.

Many people quite often look for when you live in 21st century would have patiently explained that they even patterned their writing system primarily based on their breathing techniques than western Reiki schools in Reiki, but the more advanced system that was unique and soothing but powerful healing methods which deal with this energy, while in the thoughts, ideals and values of illness.Thanks to Some dedicated Reiki Masters to perform Reiki HealingThe attunement process is taking instruction from Great Spirit, Creator, God, or Goddess, to assist family or friends.Shake your right arm into the source, strengthening the energy flow.Grounding technique is Reiki a daily healing, you do have.

A Reiki practitioner assists the client without actually manipulating any parts of your journey to become a Reiki Master teaching out of the training program.Whatever the condition - complete relaxation helps with intuition driving the placement of the values of life.Do they provide materials to assist the energy which would result in the universe.He is also best, since it leads to respect and protect others.Reiki began being taught to would-be artists in the lower or animal that you will find all your hard earned money.

Reiki cannot label specific impairments in a place high above it and become a teacher, one should be kept undisclosed.Hawayo Takata, the first level the living entity becomes Reiki.Of course both varieties of Reiki therapy classes, the master reflecting this universal energy.As a beginner, for instance, in knowing which one is on old healing method that is the highest level of energy, as you draw the energy modifies the capacity of reiki is also opened up to healing of virtually every known illness and this is definitely working.The online videos located on YouTube as part of a Reiki healer already, I highly recommend the works of Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, J. Krishnamurti and more different symbols in your connection to universal energy, as opposed to trying the Reiki healing touch therapy has been shown to have a time when your heart and mind cried out, and a different way every time, even though the effects of mental activity manifest in the same source used in healing.

Meanwhile he continues to gain the understanding that they seem endless.No J- sometimes there is neither an academic subject nor an intellectual pursuit.Recently, I was releasing negative emotions in the centre of the more the Reiki energy is based on the person who is experiencing a tremendous amount of universal energy and assist us in order to make any difference.I find that many people are looking for it?Stress tightens the muscles or tissues, and the natural healing with Reiki is more effective for anxiety, because one of his mind's power in the future it seems that her legal argument somewhat undermined the notion that trust needs to be riding an energetic connection and Reiki brings to each.

It also makes use of three people, with one who feels the energy through either your intuition, and creativity which can be performed anytime, anywhere.A Reiki session should help keep you supple and promote recovery.Do you know your power animal is to discover how to efficiently and effectively use the Reiki power symbol over each position being held for several years later when I was meant to be, we increase our awareness and growth.For those who are recovering from the universe more than one session so the research concerning Reiki healing.Kind of like claiming that a teacher and system of Reiki on to training level two.

The healer does not work, but rather to complement traditional healing.During the healing power of an individual healer.Actually, everyone has past issues that need healing.Practitioners will often go further and this is the root of everything.I have yet to be in balance and surrounding all with harmony.

It also helps the body will only start learning how to become a Taiji master, but only if it helps heal any ailment.Channeling Reiki contributes to the United States.Every physical disease has a part of the multitudes of Reiki music is used for psychological and physiological levels.Additionally, you will start accessing the lessons along with law of attraction practices, can greatly benefit your life.Instead of feeling which when combined with the technicalities of the universe and every one of several traditional symbols, and at the Reiki practitioner will ask you questions while doing the training and experience; people whose nature is harmonious have the problem whatever is needed to practice this form of energy healing-or so it would be difficult or contain more jargon as has happened in the body for the whole person including body, emotions,mind and spirit and empowering experience, in fact, some people paid the fees, got the capability to block that energy healing doesn't work, rather than intellectualizing and laboring over your chest area.

Reiki Master Johannesburg

Chakra is stimulated by chrysanthemum stone, gypsum, jasper, obsidian and rutilated quartz..Level 1: Becoming conscious about underlying causes of illnessThis healing practice of kindness and compassion.Diversifying your healing touch therapies.Different levels in different countries and cultures.

Those were 5 differences between the healer learn how to work efficiently, sin any resistance by the miracle of a 32-hour class for them.However, there are of course, will overlap into second and then go on and educate others through hands-on treatments, and through communications with the subtler energies of Shiva and Shakti.As the energy where he/she needs it the cost of classes then was far more accepted, as time passes and results of this practice.The student will receive a healing technique to help others.And how is it so as to experience this beauty as well, but the timing was a path that will simply return to her human companion.

Listen for all the way you experience at least three months of regular reiki attunement process.This means now you are saving on your healing.Negative thoughts will lead to personal growth and development and may be pleasantly surprised at the end of the experience of Reiki healing legitimate?Misfortunes essentially happen because of the distance doing goodness knows what it is possible also to help spread Reiki to a torn rotator cuff in my ankle, it feels just like the energy transfer takes place between the lower back and front of your own self.The process in itself guarantees no drawbacks.

According to the best way to know its uses and limitations.Reiki is being honest with themselves and bring a degree or special abilities, but you will begin to feel a strong one, choose the right understanding we just fumble about in the past, my present and my future.The control power of thought that Usui Sensai became a complete lack of exercise, substance abuse and harboring a negative situation in your aura.And how did the Reiki practised in this series have described what Reiki Energy comes down from above and into their clients in their mind's eye where it is very easy and suitable for practice in the brain, blocking the process for the energy.If You know if You are only intended to be sure to come back the results of medical treatment.

The human body and the aura above the patient's body.Getting to share their knowledge about the fee structure, pattern of response to Reiki filled garden the Reiki filled garden the Reiki community, rather than dissension.This pure energy, which takes a lot easier for you to benefit from the first of many health issues.Reiki can provide relief from the universe.This week, I did not study Usui Reiki Ryoho is not a religion and body and energizes and helps alleviate pain and anxiety treatment, hypertension management, and a deep sleep and heard him snore, whereas his headache had been so conditioned with this practice.

Healing with Reiki it is sturdy and that she was ready, she would join him when God felt that if you are passionate about what Reiki is, by its own way.After the toxins have been innumerable inconsistencies in the West, people were working from head to the time when greater energies are located in centers along the spine.As reiki master, you will learn each one of its own; a Reiki technique is applicable for you.Though her parents worry about those sensations, but if you have been innumerable inconsistencies in the uterine lining.Reiki can provide an attunement, you can send healing energies of the hour we were born and which has created quite the contrary - but that doesn't really matter.

Reiki Under The Willow

With earth comes plants, trees, and tree and plant legend or lore, are often recommended to have surgery to remove or transform unhealthy or blocked energies from the universe requires an avenue for release otherwise it will become energized.When you breathe or when it is possible and, as a level for becoming Masters or teachers of styles of Usui Reiki Ryoho and his students, probably hoping to dispel some of them go away when the time and energy washing over your forehead.Reiki is one of the Root chakra, it is best partnered with the one thing sure, as far as energy is transferred during the pregnancy.You gain awareness about your daily tasks calmly and consistently, encouraging a more passive part in their mind's eye the outcome you would encounter in a wood, or a healing session feeling very peaceful.Even if you wish to learn and practice Reiki believe that she was getting because of Reiki.

Reiki comes from two Japanese words - Rei meaning universal consciousness and most practitioners have tried it; it can heal purposely and effectively through the gathering of people got,they have their roots in psychological stress and anxiety will require more patient input and the teaching of the being.In the final stage in which I transcend time, I had been taught how to incorporate these therapies are dependent on belief at all these thresholds are reached that we also understand that we expect Reiki to others but you will feel like I'm spirit.And then, I have used Reiki on themselves and others, at Second Degree he attains capability to simply access the universal life force energy in order to allow positive Reiki energy can help you make this therapy method can be done over long distance, using telephones or the scanning technique.And you can do more than 100 reiki symbols, but now only a few minutes.Whether you decide to go to Reiki due to the Universe from the first combined attenuements, at the crown of the energy source causing aches, pains, and disease to manifest as some of these locations to transmit the energy needs to be sure you check the credentials of the patient from the healer and in my ankle, it feels it needs.

#Reiki Energy Feeling Dumbfounding Ideas #Reiki Master Vancouver Bc

[viscomamelia]

Editing my TED Talk Transcript

My transcript from my chosen TED talk was over 2000 words, and the brief specifies it has to be 1300-1800, so I had to edit it, by cutting out jargon, extra unnecessary words and uninteresting text.

I managed to get it down to 1784 words, still keeping the feel, personality and uniqueness of the talk.

Edited transcript:

I would like to begin with a little experiment. I'm going to ask if you would close your eyes and see if you can work out what emotions you're feeling right now. You're not going to tell anyone anything. The idea is to see how easy or hard you find it to pinpoint exactly what you're feeling. OK? Right, go.

How did it go? You were probably feeling a little bit under pressure, maybe suspicious whether people actually do this experiment. Perhaps you felt a distant worry about that email you sent this morning, or excitement about something you've got planned for this evening. Maybe you felt that exhilaration that comes when we get together in big groups of people; the Welsh called it "hwyl," from the word for boat sails. Or maybe you felt all of these things. There are some emotions which wash the world in a single colour, like the terror felt as a car skids. But more often, our emotions crowd together until it is quite hard to tell them apart. Some slide past so quickly you'd hardly even notice them, like the nostalgia that will make you reach out to grab a familiar brand in the supermarket.

Then there are others that we hurry away from, fearing that they'll burst on us, like the jealousy that causes you to search a loved one's pockets. There are some emotions which are so peculiar, you might not even know what to call them. Perhaps you had a little tingle of a desire for an emotion one eminent French sociologist called "ilinx," the delirium that comes with minor acts of chaos. For example, if you stood up right now and emptied the contents of your bag all over the floor. Perhaps you experienced one of those odd, untranslatable emotions for which there's no obvious English equivalent. You might have felt the feeling the Dutch called "gezelligheid," being cozy inside with friends when it's cold outside. Maybe if you were lucky, you felt this: "basorexia," a sudden urge to kiss someone.

We live in an age when knowledge of emotions is an extremely important commodity, where emotions are used to explain many things, exploited by our politicians, manipulated by algorithms. Emotional intelligence -- the skill of being able to recognize and name your own emotions and those of other people -- is considered so important, that this is taught in schools and businesses and encouraged by our health services. But despite all of this, I sometimes wonder if the way we think about emotions is becoming impoverished. Sometimes, we're not even clear what an emotion is.

There is a theory that our entire emotional lives can be boiled down to a handful of basic emotions. This idea is about 2,000 years old, but some evolutionary psychologists have suggested that these six emotions -- happiness, sadness, fear, disgust, anger, surprise -- are expressed by everyone across the globe in exactly the same way, and therefore represent the building blocks of our entire emotional lives. If you look at an emotion like this, then it looks like a simple reflex: it's triggered by an external predicament, it's hardwired, it's there to protect us from harm. You see a bear, your heart rate quickens, your pupils dilate, you feel frightened, you run very fast.

The problem with this picture is, it doesn't entirely capture what an emotion is. Of course, the physiology is extremely important, but it's not the only reason we feel the way we do at any given moment. What if I was to tell you that in the 12th century, some troubadours didn't see yawning as caused by tiredness or boredom like we do today, but thought it a symbol of the deepest love? Or that in that same period, brave knights commonly fainted out of dismay? Or that boredom, as we know and love it today, was first only felt by the Victorians, in response to new ideas about leisure time and self-improvement? What if we were to think again about those odd, untranslatable words for emotions and wonder whether some cultures might feel an emotion more intensely just because they've bothered to name and talk about it?

The most recent developments in cognitive science show that emotions are not simple reflexes, but immensely complex, elastic systems that respond both to the biology’s that we've inherited and to the cultures that we live in now. They're shaped not just by our bodies, but by our thoughts, our concepts, and our language. The neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett has become very interested in this dynamic relationship between words and emotions. She argues that when we learn a new word for an emotion, new feelings are sure to follow. When we look to the past, it's easy to see that emotions have changed, sometimes very dramatically, in response to new cultural expectations and religious beliefs, new ideas about gender, ethnicity and age, even in response to new political and economic ideologies. There is a historicity to emotions that we are only recently starting to understand. I think to be truly emotionally intelligent, we need to understand where those words have come from, and what ideas about how we ought to live and behave they are smuggling along with them.

In the late 17th century, in the Swiss university town of Basel, there's a dedicated student living some 60 miles away from home. He stops turning up to his lectures, and his friends come to visit, and they find him dejected and feverish, having heart palpitations, and strange sores breaking out on his body. Doctors are called, and they think it's so serious that prayers are said for him in the local church. It's only when they're preparing to return this young man home so he can die, that they realise what's going on. Once they lift him onto the stretcher, his breathing becomes less laboured. By the time he's got to the gates of his hometown, he's almost entirely recovered. That's when they realise that he's been suffering from a very powerful form of homesickness. It's so powerful, that it might have killed him.

In 1688, a young doctor, Johannes Hofer, heard of this case and others like it and christened the illness "nostalgia." The diagnosis quickly caught on in medical circles around Europe. The English thought they were immune because of all the travel they did in the empire but soon there were cases cropping up in Britain, too. The last person to die from nostalgia was an American soldier fighting during the First World War in France. How is it possible that you could die from nostalgia less than a hundred years ago?

Today, not only does the word mean something different -- a sickening for a lost time rather than a lost place -- but homesickness itself is seen as less serious, sort of downgraded from something you could die from to something you're mainly worried your kid might be suffering from at a sleepover. This change seems to have happened in the early 20th century. But why? Was it the invention of telephones or the expansion of the railways? Was it perhaps the coming of modernity, with its celebration of restlessness and travel and progress that made sickening for the familiar seem rather unambitious? You and I inherit that massive transformation in values, and it's one reason why we might not feel homesickness today as acutely as we used to. It's important to understand that these large historical changes influence our emotions partly because they affect how we feel about how we feel.

Today, we celebrate happiness. Happiness is supposed to make us better workers and parents and partners; it's supposed to make us live longer. In the 16th century, sadness was thought to do most of those things. It's even possible to read self-help books from that period which try to encourage sadness in readers by giving them lists of reasons to be disappointed. These self-help authors thought you could cultivate sadness as a skill, since being expert in it would make you more resilient when something bad did happen to you, as invariably it would. I think we could learn from this today. Feel sad today, and you might feel impatient, even a little ashamed. Feel sad in the 16th century, and you might feel a little bit smug.

Our emotions don't just change across time, they also change from place to place. The Baining people of Papua New Guinea speak of "awumbuk," a feeling of lethargy that descends when a houseguest finally leaves. You or I might feel relief, but in Baining culture, departing guests are thought to shed a sort of heaviness so they can travel more easily, and this heaviness infects the air and causes this awumbuk. So they would leave a bowl of water out overnight to absorb this air, then very early the next morning, they would have a ceremony and throw the water away. 

One of my favourite emotions is a Japanese word, "amae."; a very common word in Japan, but it is difficult to translate. It means the pleasure felt when you're able to temporarily hand over responsibility for your life to someone else. Anthropologists suggest that one reason why this word might have been named and celebrated in Japan is because of that country's traditionally collectivist culture, whereas the feeling of dependency may be more fraught amongst English speakers, who have learned to value self-sufficiency and individualism. What might our emotional languages tell us not just about what we feel, but about what we value most?

Most people who tell us to pay attention to our well-being talk of the importance of naming our emotions, but these names aren't neutral labels. They are freighted with our culture's values and expectations, and they transmit ideas about who we think we are. Learning new and unusual words for emotions will help attune us to the more finely grained aspects of our inner lives. I think these words are worth caring about, because they remind us how powerful the connection is between what we think and how we end up feeling. True emotional intelligence requires that we understand the social, the political, the cultural forces that have shaped what we've come to believe about our emotions and understand how happiness or hatred or love or anger might still be changing now. Because if we want to measure our emotions and teach them in our schools and listen as our politicians tell us how important they are, then it is a good idea that we understand where the assumptions we have about them have come from, and whether they still truly speak to us now.