#ive been feeling VERY helpless and hopeless about it all these last few days

[just-nothing-forever]

So little life update I keep forgetting to write about. I really hope I can save these Tumblr posts as a sort of journal cause that's what I've been using it as.

October 19th, 2022 I was sent to the hospital and was incoherent for 3 days

That previous night, Wednesday, I remember working and we also had a staff meeting. I remember they got us Panera bread and then I went home, talked with family, and after that everything is blank.

Apparently my mom woke up the next morning, Thursday, to hear me yelling "ow". She said I had spittle, not exactly throw up, all over my face and that I was combative and confused and kept trying to hit her. She and dad struggled to get me up the stairs and into the car to go to the hospital.

I remember absolutely nothing. Apparently when I first came in, the doctors thought I'd overdosed on something. But the only thing I remember doing was smoking weed, as is typical in my daily routine, maybe I had alcohol but I really don't remember.

I was in the hospital for 4 days, 3 of them barely coherent. It all felt like a dream to me. I specifically remember one, where there were people in masks and white protective gear surrounding me, telling me it's okay but I still struggled, but then I saw my mom. She was also wearing the gear and a mask, and her hair in my memory was super frazzled and frizzy, but I recognized her eyes, and it calmed me down.

My mom told me later they'd had to restrain me at some points, it was that bad. I truly have no memory of anything, except that "dream"

When I first woke up and was actually cognitive, my mom said the first thing I asked was "is today Thursday?" Cause I was worried about having to work.

But my workplace was super understanding and oh so nice, they gave me and amazon and Visa gift cards. They're so generous, especially since they'd already helped us out with gift cards when we went though the basement floods a few months ago. I honestly loved that place, one of the best Ive worked at.

Back to the hospital though, I woke up and found they'd put a diaper on me. It was very embarrassing and when I had to pee they brought me a portable toilet to pee in front of everyone. I thought I'd get pee shy like the last time I was at a hospital but I was still so out of it I didn't care.

Mom also brought her tablet for me to watch things. I remember putting on the new "Light-year" pixar movie but remember nothing from it except lesbeans. I remember the doctors coming in and asking questions but I still was just barely awake to answer them. I knew the date, but just from what my mom had told me, I didn't truly understand what day it was. I forgot the passwords to my phone and laptop; I remembered my phone after about a day but my laptop took forever to remember, even though it's the easiest password, 1234. I also forgot how to write for a bit, even my name. It took at least two more days after being released to remember my signature and laptop password, which was very scary. Forgetting things that almost seemed like second nature?? I can't even describe the feeling. Hopeless and helpless are the best I can get I suppose.

They did a lot of tests while I was ,"asleep," but when I woke up they did a Lumbar puncture, CT scan, and MRI. All showed normal results.

It was a terrifying experience. I lost four days of my life without even knowing it, and all a month before I'm leaving for Europe. Im so upset by it, I was exercising and practicing languages and so much before the hospital, then it happened and I just couldn't get into a good routine again

Just thought I'd write the experience down so I dont forget

Currently in Europe but I'm keeping a physical journal to document experiences, but I may make a few more vent posts here

[whump-town]

Moments Too Late

In honor of spending too much time on my own Universities quad because of the nice weather (which is promptly going to shit because it’s going to be cold again Monday) and because of @olivinesea college AU I give you...

The false promises of March lure them from the comforts of their dorms. Each morning now a little warmer, the sun beaming down forgiving and loving as it’s not the quiet time for it to swelter down great beams of heat that melts clothes off the skin off muscles off bones. Today it heats the ground, enough to encourage them out of their shoes to feel the still slightly chilled nature of the not yet up to pace earth beneath their toes.

Derek laughs deeply, unabashedly as he chases Spencer along the grass. Seemingly all the more pleased the louder he can get the younger boy to screech in terror as Derek pins his thin arms in contorted positions as they wrestle. The only mediation, the only warnings they get, comes when JJ looks up from her textbook. More often to tuck strands of hair behind her ears than to break from her reading. “Don’t hurt him, Derek,” she warns. Not because she’s afraid he will but to continue these halves of theirs. Where she stands to allow Spencer this idea that she will step in if need be.

“The winter,” Emily says softly. “I think the winter depresses him.” She’s laid out on the jacket Dave spread out on the ground before them. He’d given a little “hmph” of disapproval but not altogether displeasure when she laid herself out on it. Her legs break out in rashes and the shorts she’d chosen to wear leave her too exposed to rest comfortably in it.

Dave rests back on his elbows, chest lifted to take in all the rays of the sun that he can. He cracks open his left eye, scowling over at her as he processes what she’s just said. The raised eyebrow of doubt -- of further need for contemplation and clarification on the generally just vague statement she’s just made -- goes unnoticed as she watches Aaron. Dave’s eyes follow suit and while he might not understand the full complexity of what it is that she means, he might be able to gather what she sees.

“Winter depression?” he whispers. There’s no way that Aaron could be anything but… well, Aaron. By definition, that means dark and spirally with a complexity not a single soul, at least Dave suspects, knows him in his entirety. They are all bound by bits and pieces, half-truths that they have put together like children and those little cheap boxes that are covered half-hazardously in Elmer’s glue and macaroni shells.

Aaron lays out on his back, eyes closed and more relaxed than they’ve ever seen him. Shoulders sinking into the ground and limbs open. His ankles set aligned with his hips and shoulders. Palms up, a sunflower turned to face the warmth. He can feel the heat crawling up his body, nearly too warm with the sweater on his arms and the jeans that don’t quite fit the length of his legs. Softly, he clears his throat doesn’t even bother cracking an eye open as he says, “the word the two of you are looking for is seasonal and I’m not, nor have I ever been, depressed.”

Though Dave shoots Emily a look that says it all -- leave resting snakes to lie, don’t poke a bear you’re not ready to kill -- she sits up and observes him further. Letting his head thud against the dirt, Dave lets her poke that hornet’s nest knowing he’ll be the one to soothe Aaron’s buzzing anxiety and pull the stingers from Emily’s skin.

“You locked yourself in your room for two weeks,” she reminds him. As if she wasn’t the dead girl in the freshmen dormitory wrapped around a toilet and sent to the emergency room where they know her by name. Where they take turns picking her up in the lobby, waving to the doctor’s as she signs out against their advice with her arm still bleeding where she pulled too harshly, too angrily at the IV snaked under her flesh. Who is she to point fingers at his oddity? At least he can go a weekend without visiting the bottle.

The two weeks in question were from hell. He’d been with them Tuesday, present in a way that they reflected on as oddly so. They also thought he’d killed himself, a theory started by JJ too good to pass up so their application might be flawed. For two weeks, there was nothing but radio silence from him. His dorm was empty and they couldn’t even find him in the library, a place they more often than not have to drag him from.  He didn’t show up until Thursday, so he was actually gone for sixteen-days, and looked like maybe he had died and dragged his corpse all the way back to them.

Not yet adults and very much the children raised by their parent’s hips, how could they not think in the extremes that they have known their entire lives? Too young to know the complexities of the life ahead of them but too damaged to ignore it. JJ knows what her sister did and Derek could feel his father’s blood hardening on his hands, could understand and see what JJ was telling them.

One. Talking about wanting to die or to kill oneself; Eyes closed and back sinking further and further into the blankets behind him. Nearly unaware of how close they all are, of the hand on his knee or the shoulder on his hip. “It would be nice… I think,” he whispers. “No stress. No obligations. Like sleeping.” He doesn’t sleep well.

Two. Talking about feeling hopeless or having no purpose; The warmth of his eyes has frozen over, the helpless desperation that he feels bubbling over. The carefully orchestrated faux look he’s spent years building burns at his feet. Leaving behind the broken child that he is at his core, searching for something that makes sense. For a father that loves him and a mother that protects him. “It doesn’t matter what I do,” he rasps. “Nothing matters because all I do is fuck everything up.”

Three. Sleeping too little or too much; He pulls from the hand that JJ gently reaches out with, flinching. “I -- I just don’t sleep well,” he defends, avoiding her eyes when she tries to look harder. To really see how pale he’s become. “It’s just -- just insomnia.” Nightmares are what he means but twenty-year-olds shouldn’t have that kind of horror built up into them so he lies. It’s easier that way.

Three strikes. You’re out but… they just couldn’t find a body. Dave had told them about how old dogs will drag themselves away from their homes to die and Spencer had cried for hours after that. Maybe that seemed a little too on the nose, Aaron being compared to an old beaten dog. They yelled at Dave out of fear but knew he was right.

Then Aaron just showed up to campus Thursday, a lump of human underneath his comforter as if he’d been there the entire time.

“We couldn’t find you for two weeks, Aaron. That’s -- That’s crazy, even for you.”

JJ looks up from her textbook, sees Dave, and looks back down. She’s certain that they’re about to have to deal with one of Emily and Aaron’s nuclear fallouts.  With hindsight, she can see how that’s been festering up. Every semester they have one of these martial spats, bad enough to leave Spencer (who loves nothing more than to be one of their shadows) afraid to be left alone with either for a few days. Rightfully so, Aaron gets a little dark and Emily never pulls her punches, it’s a scary thing to witness.

“My father died.” The group freezes for a moment. Spencer and Derek’s wrestling had died down, both watching Aaron and Emily. He’s sitting up now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “My father died and it wasn’t any of your business.” Emily opens her mouth but he’s shaking, having opened something not so easily contained. He doesn’t know how to put it all back. “Sean called, what was I to do, Emily? Would you prefer I tell a scared nine-year-old to fuck off?”

He wanted to. Despite how scared Sean had been, how small he’d sounded sucking in little sobs. Aaron lost his father ten years ago but he couldn’t tell Sean that. He’d gone out of obligation and the strange weighted sense that this might be the last time he truly sees his little brother. And he couldn’t know it yet but it’d be the last time he saw his mother too.

“I wasn’t out mixing my name up with Jack Daniels.”

Well…  it was only a matter of time.

She stands first, fist clenched at her sides. “We’re your friends, we would have been there. You’re just too much of an insufferable bastard to notice!” She seethes good and properly angry. Misplaced but firm. “If you spent half as much time locking yourself away, pretending to be someone you’re not--” She pulls in a deep shuttering breathe. “Everyone knows, you know? All of us. We’ve seen the scars.” She’s not sure if it’s what she wanted but he flinches as though he’s been hit and that’s not enough to stop her. “Do you think we wouldn’t notice the flinching? That we can’t touch you? You’re not as good as you think you are, Aaron, and we’re not stupid.”

Silence.

Emily always knows what to say.

“Ex-Excuse me.”

Penelope comes up just as Aaron’s stumbling to his feet, pale as a ghost and trembling. He nearly runs into her. “What’s--” she’s brought them snacks. Little pieces of fruit she’s painstakingly cut for this little snack. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head and mumbles another “excuse me” and tears past her.

Penelope looks hopelessly at them, confused and hurt. She turns, watching Aaron stagger and wipe furiously at his eyes. “What… What did you do?” She looks back and forth, settling on Emily. Penelope watches tears gather in Emily’s eyes, her lower lip trembling.

“Oh God,” she whispers, hands raising to her lips. Emily looks over at Dave and to JJ, Spencer, and Derek still watching in terror. Her own words coming back to her, funneling through moments too late. “Oh God, what did I do?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia

[mementomori-demimonde]

Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI

Chapter 7

It’s early in the morning when you hear familiar noises coming from the other side of your door.

Miranda usually wakes up before you, gets something down in her room - some exercises, you presume, or you like to imagine her opening her laptop to check her email, given that killers do receive emails in the first place - then ventures in the bathroom for her morning shower. When she comes out, it’s usually your time to wake up, claiming the bathroom for yourself before joining her for breakfast.

Miranda is very strict when it comes down to her daily routine and you easily caught up, fitting in pretty well too. Knowing exactly what you are going to eat depending on which day it is, is reassuring on one level and psychotic on the other. It’s Miranda, you don’t ask - you just do and go with the flow.

Since you know what she usually does every morning, you try to ignore the noises and go back to sleep. You know it won’t be hard since you haven’t even fully woken up in the first place.

You roll on your side, curling deeper into the quilt seeking comfort and warmth.

All her words tend to swirl inside your head constantly, harsh and hopeless, adding to the physical loneliness getting worse every day. At first, you thought it would’ve been bearable, with her, but now she’s just distant, keeping you at arms’ length, more than ever before. It’s been days since the last time she decided to touch you - for one reason or the other. You genuinely fear she’s grown tired of you and one day, one very close day, she’ll simply get rid of you. It’s been a few nights that you’ve cried yourself to sleep, feeling desolate and helpless, only to act completely cool during the day, fulfilling her every whim of hers, pretending nothing is bothering you; you refuse to cry yourself to sleep in the mornings as well.

Positive thoughts, and maybe, just maybe, you will dream something again, something quiet for a change, after dreamless nights or nightmares that you could hardly remember.

You’ve just fallen back to half-slumber when the noises get closer, distant noises of even steps marching in the corridor, and you vaguely acknowledge them, maybe imagine, in your head, to open your eyes and sit up in your bed to wait for Miranda flinging the door open, teeth bare and that feral twitch in her eyes as she explains her plans for the day with uncalled excitement.

You realize it has only happened in your head when you feel yourself being turned harshly on your front, and you open your mouth and eyes to protest, but your face is pressed into the pillows.

You try to complain, but your voice comes out muffled.

Around you, there’s only blackness.

It’s been long enough for you to be able to recognize Miranda’s touch - harsh and unforgiving as they come - and, despite the surprise, you manage to keep the panic at bay. You try to push yourself away by propping your hands into the mattress if only to breathe, but all your body tenses when you feel something knotted and strong being planted in the small of your back to keep you still.  It takes a few instants to acknowledge her weight as she presses her knees in your tailbone.

A strangled yelp leaves you at the unexpected pain, but it’s nothing compared to the surprise of feeling your clothes being quickly tugged away and the cold thickness probing at the apex of your thighs. You regret perching yourself on your elbows and knees when you tried to scramble away because now you’re helplessly exposed and at her mercy.

Whatever it is, before you can even register what’s happening, Miranda presses in. A scalding, unpleasant burning blooming from the invaded depths of you and webbing into your body like electric sparks of pain. Unwillingly your muscles clench on their own volition, a mere reflex to the uncalled invasion that only enhances your discomfort.

Among all the unexpected things she’d come up with until now, this is one of the few you’re still not used to. Usually, it’s just her playing, you can feel it every time, and even if she has decided to attack you, there’s always a few moments in which she lets you get aware of what’s going to happen and lets you get accustomed to the idea - a few instants, but it’s enough. This is different. It’s not a playful assault but something painfully close to a punishment.

You don’t know if she’s shifted in her movements or some desperate strength possessed you, but after various attempts, you manage to push yourself up a bit, still pinned under her, you drew in a shaky breath, your face scrunched with the effort.

“Fuck, Miranda, I’m not ready!” You try to reason, a part of you still hoping it’s one of her sick games and she’s simply gotten carried off and heedlessly crossed the line. Though another part of you knows it’s impossible.

Miranda stills, the pain lessens but the soreness remains. In the silence of the room, you can only hear your own ragged breaths and the small whimper you’re not able to swallow when she slumps on your back, impaling you still, her hot breath fanning the back of your neck.

“Are we seriously still on this?” She snarls, and by the way her voice comes out, you know she has her jaw clenched. “You think the people I deal with are going to wait for you to be ready? I already told you once: men won’t waste the chance to prove their power and do their worst.”

This is one of her games as much as it is a punishment: none of those. You know, in her mind, she’s simply keeping her promise of letting you have a taste of all the bad things that might happen if you don’t listen. She's not playing, she's not punishing you.

She threatens to move again, the rocking of her hips just enough to remind you about the scalding pain, and you grunt.

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” You beg, struggling to keep still and silently praying for Miranda to just withdraw. But the ache is too much to let you ask politely, completely unbothered by the possible outcome; the slight hesitation from her serves only as a spur. “Christ, get off.”

She does, not unhurriedly, but she does, and you can’t even decide if it’s a mercy from her or a way to prolong that unforeseen agony.

You roll back on your side, and a dull thud of an object thrown away somewhere on the floor meets your ears; you barely register it and don’t even bother to check what it is.

Swallowing thickly, your eyes fluttering close as a string of curses leaves your mouth, you curl on yourself, reaching between your legs in a pointless attempt to lessen the soreness there.

Through hooded eyes, you search for Miranda. You thought she would leave now, only to come back in a while with one of her morals or with the task of the day like nothing happened; instead, she just sits there against the footboard, legs crossed, in her tank top and shorts she usually sleeps in, the nail of her forefinger gripped causally between her teeth, blue eyes boring into you, shimmering at the daylight.

“You’re a fucking psycho.” You mumble, drawing a few deeper breaths now that she seems calmer, at least, the brutality in her securely locked somewhere within for another occasion.

Miranda sighs sharply, tugs away a hangnail, and shrugs.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” She says, her tone is utterly bored. Miranda clicks her tongue, you feel her gaze raking at you, but there’s neither violence nor guilt - actually, there is nothing at all, nothing you can discern anyway; nothing that agrees with her, that is. She scrunches her nose a little, her brow pinched as she ventures into unknown territory. “You’re okay?”

You scoff, chuff out a disbelief laugh. Despite everything, that woman never ceases to amaze you, for the better or the worse.

“You really got some nerve.”

Miranda’s face flattens, every shadow of emotion gone in a blink. She shrugs.

“Are you?” She asks again, head cocked to the side, studying you with startling disinterest.

You draw a shaky breath, pull yourself up, and prop your back against the headboard, tucking the quilt on your lap. Without looking, you nod, the distance between the two of you too great and, at the same time, not enough.

Despite being early morning, despite the sleep you just got, you feel tired. There’s a familiar heaviness in your head, much like it’s the end of the day when, in reality, it hasn’t even begun yet. You’re tired of waiting for her to strike, you’re tired of waiting for her to betray you with a harsh slap after a sweet gesture - no matter how phony it is -, you’re tired of waiting in general.

If she’s not the one who got tired of you in the first place, you’re stuck with Miranda just as much as Miranda is stuck with you. There’s no need to make it any more difficult than it already is since you’ve started to convince yourself there’s nothing more to hope for but a domestic partnership with benefits - mostly on her part.

“Miranda, I’ll do it.” You sigh deeply, folding your arms on your chest, only barely peeking up in her direction. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me, if it makes you feel better.”

“It’s not-” Miranda whips her head up, suddenly alert. She stares at you, mouth ajar and you can just feel there’s something she’s about to say as much as you can see she’s trying to hold herself back. Of course, her tough part prevails, but only partially. “It’s all I ask.” She says, but her voice is low, pleading, almost; if you didn’t know any better you’d say she’s asking you to believe she’s only doing this for your own good, that she doesn’t really want to be so feral and unpredictable all the time.

Her face only confuses you more.

“Did someone do the same to you in the past?” You frown, instinctively tucking your legs underneath you in a faux attempt of self-defense.

Miranda scoffs, a crooked smirk on her mouth.

“No.” She snarls.

“Did they hurt you?” You try again, your voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda pauses. Again, her mouth hangs slightly open, her breath comes out shallow and uneven. She shakes her head, but it’s not convincing, and at that, your heart clenches a bit.

“Similar things, different modus operandi.” She sighs. “Doesn’t matter now.”

You know it’s as far as you’ll get for now, but it’s enough. You don’t think she’s ever shared that much about her life before, never about herself. There will be time to pull something out of her - you’ve got all the time in the world.

“Fine.” You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll do it, but know that you don’t have to be a bitch when things don’t go your way.”

Miranda blinks and you feel lighter when you see the ghost of a genuine smile tugging at her lips. The mirth skilfully concealed, and yet, after all that time you’ve spent together, you know it’s there, somewhere.

“Old habits die hard.”

“But I don’t.” You counter. It’s not a lament, it’s not a complaint, you’re not trying to make her feel sorry, nor you’re trying to make her pity you. You just want her to know. “I die on the inside pretty easily every time you push me away.” You shrug, wincing when you realize how it might sound.

Miranda, on her part, seems amused. Of course, she would find her vulnerability delightful. She pushes herself forward, rests on her haunches, inches away from you. Her teeth are bare now, her blue eyes glimmering with renewed excitement. She’s back, but she looks peaceful, in a way.

“Fragile little thing, always so dramatic.” She comments. “We’ll work on that too.” She declares, swats your thigh from above the quilt, and gingerly jumps off the bed.

Confused, you blink at her, watching her marching out the door, surely headed to the bathroom for her daily morning shower. You stretch her neck, raise your voice enough to be heard in the corridor.

“On me being fragile or you not pushing me away?”

You know she’s heard. You wait, ask her again. Miranda hums relaxedly to herself on the way to the bathroom. The door clicks close; she doesn’t answer.

#miranda croft #miranda croft x reader #tfa #the flight attendant #ao3 #four lines #hidden scars

[pokemagines]

slipping. (alfonse x reader)

anon asked: “I know FE requests are closed...but can we maybe have a little angsty thing about Alfonse's impending doom? Pwease? You're good with these things..”

a/n: LISTEN THIS IS SO GALAXY BRAIN IVE BEEN IN AN ANGST MOOD AND I SAW THIS AND ??? im screaming miss hel please give back my blueberry boy !!! please he is my husb i have children ,,,,

also this is def nothing canon i just really wanted to write angst but stil @ intsys hire me --mod touko

day one:

   you had not had enough time to process what was going on. in some strange way, it was like a fever dream. her words, cold and bitter as ice didn’t even seem to reach you. you were far away in your own thoughts, as you tried to push down any proof that your boyfriend was going to die. it wasn’t real, and you weren’t going to accept it. 

   and then he got sick.

day three:

   it started out with a small cough, one that he tried to hide from you as you spent all day at his side, refusing to leave. alfonse assured you that you would find a way to undo her curse, but you didn’t know. it seemed impossible: odds that you had beaten before, yes, but you weren’t sure your luck would hold on for much longer. he notices how distant you look despite keeping a grip on his arm at all times as you flip through ancient books on curses and anything you can find on the realm of the dead.

   alfonse sits beside you, flipping through book pages with one hand and letting you hold his other. every so often he finds something that could prove useful for you to write down in your notes. so far you really don’t have anything besides a bit of information on hel and others who have succumbed to her curse. 

   eir doesn’t seem to want to speak on it, as she says she doesn’t remember much about her mother’s curses, but she looks grim when you ask her if there’s any way you can get rid of it. 

day five: 

   each day you spend time with alfonse, trying desperately to find answers in askr’s library, but it seems hopeless. the prince seems determined though, reassuring you over and over that you would find a way to fix this. anna was working to help eir remember anything, while sharena was keeping watch. if hel struck again you would be ready.

   you started noticing physical changes in alfonse, where it was just once a cough, now he seemed paler and more tired. when you mentioned it, he said he was fine, that he just didn’t get enough sleep last night (despite the fact he slept soundly beside you from what you remembered. if anything, it was you awake worrying about the next few days). he even fell asleep on your shoulder during the day’s meeting, something that he would never do were he well.

   you let him sleep, while you listen to all of anna’s intel gathered while talking to eir and some of the villagers who had heard of hel. it wasn’t much but you were clinging to every bit of knowledge you could get. anna’s gaze softens as she looks at you, the prince still asleep on your shoulder.

   “we’ll save him,” she says, her usually chipper voice now serious. “i promise.” you want to say you know, that you’ll do it together like you always did, but your voice catches in your throat. 

   “gods, i hope so.”

day six:

   it’s over halfway to the day where hel promised to take alfonse. you feel desperate, like an animal slowly being cornered with no where else to run. 

   you can’t stand how people shoot you sympathetic glances in the hallway like he’s already dead. he’s not, not if you had any say in the matter. despite the pessimism of the first few days, it’s like a fire had ignited in your chest. you couldn’t mope around and do nothing, reading books and trying to find a way around this was better than nothing. 

   meanwhile, alfonse refused to leave your side, despite the some of the healers pleading for him to go to the infirmary ward. he didn’t seem to be showing signs of any certain disease. every day he grew weaker, until the point he could hardly walk without leaning against you for support. you didn’t mind helping him, you could handle helping him around for the rest of your life if you needed to. 

   he can’t keep his hands off you. you don’t know if it’s weakness or what but seems to have lost all his inhibitions as he kisses you over and over no matter where you are, even in front of others. 

   “why all the affection?” you chuckle, as he places another kiss to your cheek. you’re in his lap as you continue to rummage through books in the library, your tired eyes hardly able to understand what it is you’re reading, but you press on nevertheless.

   “just... in case.” he mumbles, resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms encircling your waist. “you deserve so much love, [name], i’m just giving you everything i was too afraid to give you when i wasn’t... sick.” it sounds like he’s given up, so you turn to face him, straddling his lap.

   “hey, you’re going to be around for a long time, okay? don’t say things like that...” tears threaten to spill over, but you force yourself to be strong. for him. 

   “...of course.” his voice sounds sad.

day seven:

   he could now not walk. he was confined to the bed in the medical ward, you and healers surrounding him all day. nothing seemed to be working though, and with each hour, it seemed like he was slipping through your fingers.

   “i brought you something.” sharena says, and despite a smile stretched out on her face, it doesn’t reach her eyes. you know she’s suffering as much as you, and so you accept the small gesture. placing the soup she has on the bedside table for later. 

   “any news?” you ask her, your voice gravelly from lack of use. she grabs your hand, squeezing reassuringly.

   “no, nothing we haven’t thought of.” she sighs, leaning her head on your shoulder. “hel’s forces have been silent. there’s nothing we can do now but wait.” hearing that from sharena, a carefree optimist somehow hurt more than the words from hel herself. 

   “when hel comes to take him... i’ll...” you clear your throat, “i’m going to ask her to take me instead. maybe she’ll--”

   “no. you can’t do that!” she squeaks, “you mean so much to this army and--”

   “but he means so much to you. and to me. he’s a prince and i’m sure there are other summoners out there the universe can choose but--”

   “but none of them are you!” her voice breaks, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. “you... you can’t... you think alfonse will ever forgive himself if you do?”

   “i’ve decided. i’m sorry sharena but...” you squeeze her hand, “i have to. it’s the only way.” she’s silent, the gears turning in her head. it’s then she makes up her mind. she smiles at you, a real smile this time, full of warmth.

   “i don’t think you’ll need to do that, [name].” 

day nine:

   you sob, holding onto alfonse’s hand as he slowly slips out of consciousnesses. he’s so deathly pale and weak he hardly looks like the man who confessed to you, nervously spilling his guts to you with the brightest blush on his face as he awaits rejection. it never came, much to his delight. you could never reject someone as sweet and kind as him. his eyes were bright and full of hope as he thanked you after you told him how you felt in return. you can still remember those words loud and clear: 

   “i don’t know the true reason why you were brought here but… without you, i dare not think where we would be… where i would be. you make me want to be a better man, so… stay by my side forever?”

   he promised forever. he promised. it wasn’t fair. 

   hel sits on the railing of the balcony, looking at you with pitying stares. you, sharena, and anna all hugging each other and crying. you begging for him to keep his eyes open, stroking his face lovingly. despite his weakness, he told sharena to be the responsible leader he knew she could be. asked anna to continue leading the army with courage. he assured you that you could be happy, even without him there. to not lose your optimism and hope that you gave to everyone in the army. alfonse apologized for not being able to be there for you three.

   you couldn’t save him. you lost. he was going to die and you had to sit helpless and watch him suffer until his last breath. god, why didn’t he listen to his father for once? why did you encourage him to take on hel? you sob harder into his chest, his hand gripped tightly in yours.

   hel creeps closer, slowly as to let you say your goodbyes. the three of you finally notice, and anna draws her weapon. she looks to the redhead, then back to alfonse. 

   “hel! please,” you beg, voice breaking off, “take me instead, i p-promise just... don’t let alfonse die. please.” you’re desperate, and now that you’ve got her where you want her, you have to say your part. nothing could kill her, she was death itself, but maybe she would make a trade.

   “it is not destined for you to die, little one.” she touches your head, her fingers ice cold and you feel like lunging at her. hel floats above alfonse, readying her scythe, and you scream at her not to. “i would say my last words, if i were you.”

   “wait, if not them, than me.” sharena’s voice is defiant, angry tears in her eyes. “you want a child of askr? then take me.” anna grabs her arm, telling her to stop, but hel freezes, turning her steely, indifferent gaze to sharena. 

   “very well.” she says, “either child will suffice. and i see a determination in your eyes that intrigues me.” you scream at sharena, telling her to stop. hel extends her hand, and the blonde gives the two of you a smile, leaning over and kissing the tears on your cheek. you grip onto her, telling her not to do this, before she extends her own hand to hel.

   “i'm sorry.” she whispers to you, “take care of alfonse for me, ‘kay?” she tries to sound chipper, before the two disappear into nothingness.

   “...[name]?” alfonse whispers, rubbing at his head, “i’m... what happened?” you sit in shock, both you and anna silent as you try and process what just happened. “you did it.” he squeezes your hand, which you had been gripping the whole time.

   “where’s sharena?” he asks, and you can’t look in his eyes. once more, he repeats the question. hot tears fall down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and red from all the crying you’ve been doing. anna looks to you to see if you’re going to answer. his grip grows tighter.

   “where is she, [name]... anna?”. he says, much quieter and scared this time. you can only whisper out a weak: 

   “she’s gone, alfonse, i’m sorry.”

#alfonse #alfonse (fire emblem) #alfonse x summoner #alfonse x reader #one-sided sharena x reader #if u squint #fe:h #fire emblem heroes #imagine #fe friday #ficlet #angst #fire emblem #x reader #mod touko #>;3

[waitingonthewind]

man i used to joke a lot abt 2 years ago how i was going to Die at 24. saying that it was just an inevitability and entirely out of my hands. and at the time it was just a way for me to joke a bit abt my mood and try and remind myself that it doesn't matter what haooensin the meantime because for all i knew, i COULD die at 24, and it wouldnt inconvenience me, because id be dead. and i was never serious about it, i never intended to ACTUALLY DIE at 24. but i was depressed, i was physically sick, i was stressed.

but something i noticed recently, was that the better my mood has been over the last couple of years, the less and less these jokes have been part of my go to response for feeling sick or sad. and i found the less i used them, the better my moods become.

a big turning point for me, was during a particular depression spike, sobbing in the break room at work over something thay had happened thay day, and while one of my friends tried to console me and tell me that things will Be Okay, i was able to identify, and very aggressively so, that i knew they Would.

I was able to look back at the last week, month, year and acknowledge that things had been better. and it didnt diminish how shitty i was feeling In the Moment, and i was furious that i was as upset as i was. and i said to my friend that i knew things Would Be ok. and that i knew they Had Been. but that i wished they werent as shitty as they were in that moment. that itd pass, and that no doubt id be this low again, but that it was exhausting feeling as bad as i did over that particular month, on and off.

but that aside. that overall i had been doing better than i had been in DECADES.

that shitty month passed. on and off every few days of feeling fine and feeling atrocious. but im able to look back at it as proof that even when im feeling that low i can still acknowledge how far ive come from a couple years back, where i didnt care if i lived or died.

im turning 23 this year, and ive made strides from feeling as completely hopeless, helpless barely even 2 years ago. I'm not going to die at 24. I'm going to Live.

#this is a pointless ramble #ok to reblog #ive booked rental inspections #im checking out places to move out into with the two people im closest to #im going to be better than ok #im going to goddamned t h r i v e #knife cut it out #death mention

[skelenyxx]

//i’ll save you// ~ I’ll Save You

//Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend Somewhere along in the bitterness And I would have stayed up with you all night Had I known how to save a life.//

/*/

"Nothing we do can change what happened, Ava, but we can make sure that it never happens again."

Perhaps Shoto was right.  Nothing I do could ever change the past right? As true as that fact was, it didn't ease the shame and regret that followed in the wake of that past. I could work to make sure that no one ever experienced that pain again, like Shoto suggested, but deep down, I knew that wouldn't be enough to wash away the pain I felt.

After all, it was my fault that Izuku had gotten mortally injured in that battle.

"I realize now that I probably should've talked to you about all of this before," Shoto added. I looked up at him again, his dual-colored eyes watching me again from under his red and white hair. "It's obvious you've been in a lot of pain since the fight, and I should've tried to help sooner."

I shook my head. "Don't apologize, Shoto. You haven't done anything wrong. Besides, you've had a lot of stuff to deal with since the fight as well." I may have been dealing with a lot, but I wasn't conceited enough to begin to believe that I was the only one. Shoto's father, Endeavor, was one of the Pros killed by Shigaraki and his hoard of Nomu, and handling the repercussions of that couldn't have been a small feat. "I've been meaning to ask, how have things been since...? Have you been doing okay?"

"I can't say things have been easy," he replied with a shrug. "I may have despised that man, but in the end, he was still my father. It's hard to explain... But since he's no longer around, my family and I have been able to work on the paperwork to get my mother out of the hospital."

"That's amazing, Shoto."

"She won't be officially released for another couple weeks, but it's a relief to know that the end of that torment is finally in sight. Without my father around, it's like a weight has been lifted off of all of us. It feels like we can actually be a family, but at the same time, his absence in itself is another weight added."

His mother meant the world to him, and understandably so. After all he went through in his childhood, it was honestly a miracle that he made it through as well as he did. His father was an abusive, overbearing figure that put all his own unfulfilled dreams and desires onto Shoto, and it resulted in a very tough home life. I knew I couldn't understand his true feelings about his father's death and how conflicting they might be, but I could at least understand his happiness in the fact that his mother would finally be coming home.

"I'm glad that things are going alright for you and your family. You deserve it," I said with probably the most genuine smile I'd been able to wear in weeks.

"Thanks."

We grew quiet again, occupying our minds as we watched Izuku in the hospital bed. His chest rose and fell evenly in time with the beep of the heart monitor, IV bags hanging by his bed labeled things like saline, and other machines all cranking along to the functions of his body. I wished he would just open his eyes, the green irises taking in his surroundings and analyzing everything the way they always did. I wanted to see his sweet, genuine smile and hear the determination in his voice. Izuku was the one who made me feel like I could be strong, and without him, I felt like my strength had been sucked out through a straw, leaving me weak and helpless. Perhaps it was a bad thing that I was so dependent on my friend, and it was such a stark contrast to the person I was many years ago, but I guess that was to be expected when you have a story like mine. Izuku taught me what it meant to be a friend, and what it meant to be a hero. To me, he was the epitome of those words, doing everything in his power to help the people he cared about and putting everything on the line in order to protect others. But in the end, it was his determination as a hero and a friend that put him in that bed.

No, it was me that put him in that bed.

"It's so strange seeing him like this," Shoto said after a while. "He was always so energetic and passionate. It's weird not seeing him around school."

I nodded. "I miss him. I just want him to wake up."

"Midoriya has probably the strongest heart of any person I know. I'm sure he's doing whatever he can to get back to us. He won't give up."

"But what if that's not enough?"

Shoto shook his head. "Don't think about it that way. Believe in him. Midoriya always finds a way to win. As he would put it: 'That's what heroes do.'"

Because that's what heroes do.  Izuku had said that sentence so many times over the years.  Anytime someone second guessed his motives or questioned why he wouldn't back down or retreat, his response was always those five words.  Izuku was a true hero, not just to me but to everyone around him.  There wasn't a sliver of doubt in my mind that he was meant to be the next symbol of peace, just like his mentor, All Might, and he had chased that very dream since he was a quirkless elementary school boy.  He never gave up on it, and it lead him to becoming one of the most promising young heroes of our generation.

"So what do you normally do while you're here?" Shoto asked me suddenly.  "You spend practically every free minute you have here at the hospital and it doesn't seem Midoriya has all too many visitors to keep you company anymore."

I shrugged.  "Sometimes I watch the news or read.  Sometimes his mom his here so she and I chat for a while.  But a lot of the time, I just talk to him."

"Talk to him?"  Shoto furrowed his brows in confusion at my statement.

"Yeah," I nodded.  "I don't know too much about superstitious beliefs here Japan, even after living here for three years, so I don't know if you guys have the same belief, but in America, a lot of people believe that if you talk to a person in a coma that you have a close connection to, they can hear your voice.  I don't know if I believe it or not, but I want to; I just want him to know that I'm here still and that we're all waiting for him to wake up."

"What do you say to him?"

"Different things each time.  I usually recount what's going on in school, what's been happening with his mother, and what the media has been saying about him or about Hero society as a whole.  And a lot of the time I just talk about old memories of us and our friends over the years."

"Sounds like you're a lot more sentimental than you like to let on," Shoto tried at a bit of humor.  Surprisingly, it worked, and the smallest curl graced my lips.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

/*/

Shoto stayed with me at the hospital for a few hours before eventually excusing himself.  He said he would've stayed with me until visiting hours were over, but he was supposed to be meeting his mother's doctor with his older sister to work out some of the finer details of Mrs. Todoroki's release.  I was glad that in the dark wake of such a devastating fight, he was able to find some light in it.

His words and advice still rung in my head. He was right; I had to start moving forward one way or another. Maybe I didn't deserve to, but I'm supposed to be a hero, and a hero saves people. I needed to keep working, keep learning so that this would never happen again. That's what Izuku would want.

The League of Villains may have been bested, but there will always be another baddie around the corner, each stronger than the last. Until hero society stabilized and a new symbol of peace was in place, villains would continue to grow ever more cocky, and more people would be in danger. If Izuku were awake, he'd be doing everything in his power to be ready for that and to protect people, so for his sake, ultimately I had to do the same.

But I knew that it was far from me truly moving forward. My body and mind may be working toward the future, but my heart was to remain in that hospital room with Izuku until the day his eyes opened again. But when would that day come? I didn't know. Sometimes it felt truly hopeless, like it would never happen at all.

Izuku wouldn't be in a coma if it weren't for me, that I knew within every fiber of my soul. He saved me, not just in the fight but so many times since the day we'd met. I wouldn't ever be able to repay him or atone for my failures until he came back.

I stood beside his bed, noticing the clock on the wall strike 10PM, telling me that visiting hours were over, and I felt a sudden determination wash over me. I knew what had to be done.

"I promise, Izuku," I spoke softly, my hand reaching out and gently gripping his. "On my life, I'll find a way. I'll save you."

This time, I'll be his hero.

/*/

//2 Months Ago, Tokyo//

"Oh my god," the young woman breathed as she took in the scene of destruction before her. Her face was largely obscured by the hood and mask that came up over her nose, but you could see the horror written in her blue eyes as she surveyed the battleground.

"Angel Blade!" a voice shouted from not too far off. The girl turned, her white and gold cape fluttering in the wind, as she came face to face with a boy her age, his green body suit blurring in her vision as he leaped around the rubble to her side.

They quickly ducked behind a large piece of building that had fallen, crouching as they breathed heavily. Angel Blade pulled her mask down and looked at the boy. "This is really bad, Deku."

Deku nodded, his green hair shaking haphazardly as he frowned. "Shigaraki just took out every Pro Hero that faced him. He's gotten exponentially stronger since All For One passed him his power."

"I'm not even sure I can say that's Shigaraki anymore," Angel Blade replied with a quick glance over the rubble at the thing that stood at the center of the destruction. "With all that power, he's become a monster. If the top Pros couldn't take him, I don't know if anyone can."

Another group of figures came into view, running towards the pair from behind some more rubble nearby. Angel Blade recognized them to be Ingenium, Uravity, Froppy, Ground Zero, Creati, Tsukoyomi, Red Riot, and Shoto, more of her classmates from UA.

"What are we going to do?" Creati, a tall brunette with elegant features asked once the group had reached them. "He'll destroy the entire city!"

"We're going to fight him, you idiot!" Ground Zero all but shouted, balling his fists at his sides. "We were asked to be here as backup and what kinda backup are we if we don't fill in when shit gets rough?"

"I agree with Kaachan," Deku spoke up, accidentally letting slip the nickname of his childhood friend rather than his hero name. Under the stress of the situation, nobody could blame him. "We can't let him keep going on or he'll just continue growing stronger and hurt a lot more people."

"Can we even defeat a villain like that?" Ingenium asked under the mask of his white armor, at the moment more concerned about the safety of his friends. Shigaraki had become a menace to behold, and to him it seemed like a fruitless effort to even try to fight him.

"We have to," Deku said with determination. "We may not be Pros yet, but we're the last heroes standing. The citizens are counting on us to protect them. We have to fight, and we have to win."

The group knew their friend was right, and although they had trained for fighting villains such as this, nothing could've prepared them for the fear that arose when actually forced to face power like Shigaraki's.

"I'm in," Angel Blade said, hands resting on the hilts of her swords. "If Deku is fighting then so am I."

"Me as well," Shoto spoke up.

"And me," Red Riot added, his spiked red hair practically glowing the light of the burning surroundings. "This is what we do as heroes, and it's not very manly to run away from an enemy."

"Tch, I was going to fight whether you guys joined me or not. Just don't get in my way," said Ground Zero, glaring at his friends.

"I think its best for you seven to fight since you're the strongest front line fighters of the group," Creati strategized, also looking at the bird man Tsukoyomi and the "white knight" Ingenium.

"Froppy, Creati and I will work on freeing trapped civilians and helping the injured heroes get out of the way," Uravity decided. "You guys won't be able to fight at full power until the area is cleared, and we can't hope to win without that power."

"Actually," Ingenium spoke up, "against a monster like that, I won't be of much help. I'll only get in the way if I try to fight. My attacks aren't powerful enough to take him on. I think my abilities would be more useful in helping to evacuate people. The quicker we get people out, the sooner you guys can go all out."

"I'm in the same boat," Tsukoyomi added sullenly. "Between the fires in this destruction and your three quirks," he looked at Angel Blade, Shoto, and Ground Zero, "Dark Shadow will be too weak to hold up against Shigaraki. It'd be better if I help the wounded and trapped." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry I can't be of more use."

"It's okay," Deku assured. "Getting people to safety is still a huge help."

Uravity placed a hand on Deku's shoulder. "Be careful," she looked around at the group that was about to march into the fray of battle, "all of you. And good luck."

"Always," Angel Blade smiled, pulling up her white mask over her mouth and nose.

The two groups split off, the rescuers heading into the wreckage of buildings to remove citizens and downed heroes, while the fighters dodged crumbling rubble on their way to the epicenter of the battle to face the creature that Shigaraki had become. Angel Blade stood at the edge of the giant crater created by the fight and stared at the monster in apprehension. Nomu or human, she wasn't sure what he was anymore. His once frail body was now swollen beyond its normal size, at least ten feet tall with massive distorted muscles and strange structures like spikes protruding from random parts. Sometimes the form of his appendages would change into things like large blades or pointed spikes sharp enough to impale anyone within arms reach. The incredulous amount of quirks dwelling within his body had created this atrocity, and they were all bursting forth simultaneously. It was a terrifying sight.

Deku and Shoto came to stand beside her, determination written in their features.

"Ready?" Deku asked.

Angel Blade nodded, eyes narrowing at the monster as she unsheathed her dual swords and activated her quirk. Orange flames licked down her arms, engulfing her hands and the swords in the blaze. Hellfire, her quirk was called. Very few knew the reason behind that name, but she had a feeling that her secret was going to be out after tonight. She couldn't afford to hold back against this foe or else risk the safety of herself and her friends.

Shoto and Deku also activated their quirks, fire engulfing Shoto's left side as a horrendously cold mist played on his right, and power surged through Deku as he let his quirk flow into his limbs, using Full Cowling to enhance his speed and strength immeasurably.

"Let's do this," she said, leaping off the edge of rubble into the crater alongside her friends.

The following battle was a frenzy of exchanged blows, fire, and ice. Ground Zero maneuvered through the air, using his explosions for propulsion and blasting Shigaraki in the face to knock him off balance any chance he could get. Deku, Red Riot, and Angel Blade dodged in and out of range of the enemy's reaches, attacking where they could and parrying when they couldn't, while Shoto used his ice and fire from a distance to burn or freeze him every chance he could get. Their movements and strategy were fluid, working seamlessly like a well oiled machine. They had trained alongside each other for three years, but that kind of teamwork is something that comes with more than just cooperation. It's understanding your comrades' quirks, theirs strengths, their weaknesses, and their fight styles. It's understanding how they'll approach a situation, how they'll react to peril, and what their motives are. The teamwork they showcased, it came from more than just being comrades or classmates.

It came from being friends, friends who trusted each other with their lives.

But no matter their cohesiveness and their power, it still wasn't enough. Shigaraki was more powerful than any villain or Nomu they had ever faced, and no matter how much they threw at him, he fought back with twice the strength. Not only that, but any damage they did to him only regenerated, leaving him practically unscathed. Meanwhile, the young heroes were beginning to wear down, taking hits left and right, unable to fully outmaneuver the massive beast that they faced. If they didn't find a way to turn the fight around, and soon, they would ultimately lose the fight the same as the Pros before them.

"Shit," Angel Blade cursed in pain as she slammed against what was left of a wall. She gripped her side, trying to force the searing pain to subside and she grimaced. She had moved in for another attack, using her flaming dual blades to slice into the monster, but she wasn't fast enough to move back before he had swung out with his massive arm, knocking her across the battlefield.

"Are you okay?" Shoto asked in concern as he approached her position, sliding on his ice to come defend his beaten friend as she tried to regain her footing.

"I think so," she responding, using one of her blades dug into the ground to pull herself back into a standing position. She grimaced again, clenching her jaw as her side felt like it was being stabbed. "I think I broke a few ribs," she added.

"Can you still fight?"

She nodded, pulling her blade out of the ground. "We won't be able to hold him off much longer like this."

"I know. We just have to hold out until the others finish evacuating the area." Shoto sent out another ice wave, the glacier grabbing hold of Shigaraki's arm, preventing him from landing a blow to Ground Zero as the angry blonde blew through the air yet again, firing another blast to the beast's face. It was enough to stall him slightly, but he quickly broke free of the hold, shattering the ice as though it were a thin sheet of glass.

Angel Blade reactivated her quirk, the warm sensation traveling down her arms and engulfing the swords she held as an extension of her attack range. Her flames could only affect what she touched; they weren't projectable like Shoto's, so she used the blades to give her more fighting power in close combat. Angel Blade had trained for many years to be able to use her dual blades as well as she could, and if she hadn't ended up moving to Japan to attend UA, she's sure she would've ultimately become an assassin "hero," like she'd been trained to be.

She glared through the pain, taking a deep breath and running back into the fray of the fight. Shoto used a wave of ice to give her a ramp to run up, and she leaped off the top, bringing one of her flaming blades down through Shigaraki's shoulder. She used the other to push herself back off of him, dislodging her blade and leaping back out of the way of a spike that immediately formed where she had been perched on his back. She growled in frustration as the wound immediately closed, the creature not even flinching in pain. Her attack was followed closely by Red Riot, who used his strength and hardened body to break the spike from Shigaraki's body and then use it as a baseball bat, slamming it into his side with such force that it actually knocked the monster to the side a bit. Just as he tilted to the side, Ground Zero came flying through the air, firing an explosive blast so large that even Angel Blade could feel the searing heat and had to dig her swords into the ground to keep from being blown backwards.

Ground Zero landed beside her in the most typical hero pose ever, glaring through the haze of smoke at the silhouette that was their enemy.

"If that didn't blast the bastard's face off then I don't know what will," he growled, panting heavily.

But as the smoke cleared away, the heroes stood dismayed at the sight of the still unscathed villain before them. The massive creature formed his arm into a blade and swung it out at the closest hero in range, which happened to be Red Riot. The red head was able to negate the damage that would've been caused by the blade by using his quirk, but it didn't keep him from being smashed relentlessly into the ground repeatedly. Angel Blade knew that her friend's Unbreakable form could only outlast so much, and foreseeing the worst, she rushed to his aide, digging a blade into the arm of the beast and tearing it out with a strength she didn't realize she had, nearly severing the limb entirely. For once, Shigaraki actually recoiled from the attack, pulling away long enough for the others to join in and distract him while Angel Blade pulled Red Riot up and ran him to the side.

His stone-like skin was cracked profusely, blood oozing out indiscriminately, and Angel Blade realized that that last attack had pushed him to his limit.

"I-I can still f-fight," he groaned, attempting to stand up before immediately losing balance and falling again.

"No," Angel Blade warned. "You're too injured and you've reached your limit."

"I can keep going!"

"You'll get killed, Eijiro," she said, using his first name in warning as she tore off her cape, handing it to him to use to wipe the blood dripping down his face. "You can't even stand and your Unbreakable form is shattered. That last attack was his strongest one yet. If it had been anyone but you that he'd hit, it would've killed them."

"I won't let my friends fight without me!"

"And I won't let one of my friends run into battle when they're on the brink of death!"

Red Riot stared at the destruction before him. He knew she was right, but he had a horribly bad feeling about what was to come; he needed to be there to protect his friends, at any cost. He had reached and surpassed his limit, but it wasn't in him to give up.

"Angel Blade!" A voice shouted from beyond the crater. "Deku, Ground Zero, Shoto, Red Riot!" A white armored figure flashed into view, standing at the edge of the crater, illuminated by the blazes surrounding him. It was Ingenium. "We've cleared the area!"

Noticing his two classmates off to the side, Ingenium ran to Angel Blade and Red Riot's side.

"Ingenium," Angel Blade said, "Take Red Riot to safety."

"What?! No!" Red Riot insisted.

"He's too injured and if we go full power, he'll be in even more danger," the girl continued. Understanding, Ingenium nodded, speedily scooping up the stubborn red head and rushing off with him in his arms.

"Dammit, Iida!" Red Riot shouted. "Take me back!"

"You know I can't do that, Kirishima," Ingenium said, still running effortlessly through the rubble and away from the fight. "Angel Blade is right. They won't be able to fight at full power if you're there."

"I need to help them!"

"Trust in their abilities, Red Riot. They are well-trained heroes. They will stop Shigaraki."

With Red Riot removed from the scene, Angel Blade turned back to the fight, noticing that the rest of her group had backed off momentarily, standing in ready. Deku took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was scraped up and bruised, but far from beaten. It wasn't over yet, not by a long shot.

"You heard the man," Ground Zero shouted. "It's time to go all out!" The blonde smirked mischievously, removing the safety from his explosive gauntlets that adorned his wrists, each one storing enough fire power to destroy a building.

Deku nodded, unleashing the mental dam that held back the majority of his quirk's power. He felt the power and adrenaline course through his body, making him faster and stronger than ever before. He had never used Full Cowling at 100% since even using it above 20% caused a massive shift in wind pressure when he moved, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  It was all or nothing.

Shoto had to be careful about using his power, because if he lost control of it, he could seriously injure the people around him, but they knew the risks of all of them going full power near each other, and they didn't have much of a choice. He raised the temperature of his flames, going so hot that they began to turn blue around him. The heat was blistering, so hot that it could be felt beyond the battle field, and when it was turned against their foe, it was a wonder the creature didn't melt on the spot.

Angel Blade stared ahead in apprehension. She didn't like using her quirk's full power; even after years of Deku reminding her that it was nothing to fear and to accept it as a part of herself, there was still that part of her mind that was drilled into believing it to be an atrocious thing.  They may have seemed alone in the wreckage, but she knew that through news broadcasts, the whole world was watching them and their fight.  She didn't know what they were saying or feeling about the young greenhorns, but all eyes were on them.   Regardless, they needed all of their power if they were to win, and she couldn't let her friends risk their lives while she stood on the side. She flipped her blades in her hands, bringing the ends of the hilts together in front of her as she closed her eyes. The flames moved down from her arms, engulfing her entire body in the blaze as she upped the temperature. What was left of her cape burned away, revealing the form of fiery wings, and her blades, engulfed in the flames, melded together, shifting into one, large weapon: a scythe. She opened her eyes again, and they were no longer the familiar cerulean orbs that people knew belonging to the young woman; they were a bright red.

Deku leaped into action first, moving so fast the eye couldn't see him.  A harsh wave of air collided with this teammates as he landed a powerful punch to the monster's abdomen, enough force to knock them over if they hadn't been prepared.  They all knew the destructive power of Deku's quirk when used at its full power, and they had trained alongside it for long enough to know how to work around it.

Angel Blade used the rush of air to pick her up off the ground, her blazing wings lifting her into the sky, high above Shigaraki.  Twirling her weapon around in her hands like a flaming baton of death, she descended, aiming for Shigaraki's head.

Managing to knock Deku to the side, the creature brought up his bulging arms, blocking Angel Blade's strike.  Her flames flared even higher, searing the skin on his arms that made contact with the scythe, blistering and melting under the heat.  Ground Zero took the opportunity to propel himself into the air with small explosions, joining the battle.

"You're in the way, sword girl!" he shouted.  Angel Blade took the hint and immediately away as an incredible blast shook the battleground.  A shock wave blew through the area so strong that it felt like a nuke had just been dropped in front of them.  Angel Blade was forced to land immediately, crouching to the ground and shielding herself from flying debris with his wings, attempting to not get blown away.  "Don't give him a chance to breathe!" Ground Zero ordered as the wind subsided a bit.  "Keep hitting the bastard!"

Shoto reached down, touching the ground with his right hand, flicking his wrist upwards and releasing a massive glacier of ice, encasing the villain in a prison of freezing temperatures.  Shoto knew that wasn't enough to stop him, but it gave him enough time to maneuver himself into position for his next attack and to cool his body temperature just enough to keep from overheating.  As the ice shattered into hundreds of pieces, forced apart by Shigaraki's sheer strength, the heterochromatic hero raised his left hand, focusing all his fire into one sole attack.  A wave of fire rushed forward, the usual orange flames focusing into a bright white blue color, washing over the creature before.  It was a technique called Prominence Burn, one that he'd learned from his father.  He'd never been forced to use it before, but it was far more powerful than anything Shoto had in his arsenal, and if it didn't weaken Shigaraki, then there was little hope that anything would.

Shoto wavered, his ice melting faster than he could produce it to keep himself cool, and he felt his left hand begin to blister under the heat, but he kept going, pushing himself to the far reaches of his limits, doing everything in his power to stay standing.

Deku, Ground Zero, and Angel Blade had backed off, knowing that they couldn't withstand the heat coming from their comrade.  Even for a fire type quirk user like Angel Blade, the scorching blaze was almost too much for her, sweat pouring down her face as she grimaced through it.  Deku and Ground Zero did the same, keeping low to the ground and waiting for it to pass.

But after a few seconds more, the dual quirk user was forced to relinquish, his strength fading quickly, and he stumbled, panting heavily as he cradled his now horribly burned left arm in pain.  He likely wouldn't be able to use much of his flames now that he'd used that attack, especially considering it was taking every ounce of strength he had to stay conscious.  He looked up, hoping to see nothing but a burnt remnant of the villain, but to his dismay, he saw nothing of the sort.

The giant man stood, fibers of his body slowly replacing themselves, the burnt, charred, and melted parts of his body beginning to replenish.  The creature seemed to laugh at their futile attempts.

"How is he still standing?" Angel Blade gasped in disbelief.

"We still have a chance," Deku assured them.  "His regeneration is a lot slower, look!  We can still do this!"

The heroes realized he was right.  Although Shigaraki was still regenerating, it was exponentially slower than it had been before.  That meant if they could inflict enough damage fast enough, he wouldn't be able to heal himself anymore.

Deku leaped into action, his body twirling through the air as he landed a full powered kick to the monster's jaw.  Shigaraki recoiled, being knocked sideways by the force.  Angel Blade kicked off the ground, gliding through the air with determination, slicing down on the beast with her blazing scythe.  She continued to pound him, one after another blow, as Deku did the same, leaping about, kicking and punching wherever there was an opening.  His movements kicked up massive shifts in air pressure around him, but Angel Blade maneuvered with them easily, using them to her advantage for speed or power.  She had trained with her friend a lot over the years, and even though she had only used her quirk's true form in front of him once before, she knew his tactics and movements very well.

Ground Zero stood back for the moment, watching the fight with a keen eye and waiting for the opportunity to use his second gauntlet.  He could only store up enough for two blasts, and he couldn't afford to waste his second one.

"You aren't gonna pass out on me, are you Icy Hot?" the blonde asked his weakened friend.

Shoto shook his head, grimacing.  "That attack weakened my strength considerably," he said slowly.  "I won't be able to use my fire much but I can still fight."

"Good.  Just don't get yourself killed."

With that remark, Ground Zero rejoined the fight, using small explosions to distract Shigaraki and throw him off balance.  Shoto pushed through the pain and managed to throw his ice in wherever he could, stalling attacks and blocking blows, but they were far from as powerful or as fast as his glaciers had been before.

Shigaraki was still fighting back, seemingly growing agitated at the increased power and number of blows he was taking, but he still wasn't backing down.  Angel Blade realized that the only thing that seemed to stall and weaken him enough to continually inflict damage was fire, whether it be hers, Shoto's, or Ground Zero's.  She came up with a plan, a risky one.

"Ground Zero!" she called as the black-clad hero landed a few yards away from the fight after having emitted another explosion.  "Follow my lead.  When I say, use your gauntlet!"

He didn't question or argue; he knew that they were desperate, and whatever she was planning was better than no plan at all.

"Deku!" she called down to the green-haired boy below her.  "Keep his arms occupied!"

Deku nodded, leaping up and landing another kick down on the monster's shoulder, momentarily dislocating it before it healed itself again.  Their original number of 5 had been shot down to 4, and that 4th member of the team was injured and weakened.  They had to do something, fast, before there was no one left to fight at all.

As Deku kept Shigaraki's attention, Angel Blade soared through the air, landing on the villain's shoulders, her scythe pulled against his neck in a choke hold.  She took a deep breath and released all of her power, letting her flames scorch hotter than ever before.  Deku leaped too and fro, keeping the monster's hands and arms away from snatching his friend from her hold on him, and she continued to push her flame power.  She couldn't reach temperatures like Shoto's, but she hoped that with the direct contact and his weakened state, it would be enough to push him over the edge.

Angel Blade suddenly felt a searing pain as Shigaraki grew spikes out of his back, one of them impaling her leg.  She felt the sticky warm blood run down her leg, but she refused to let go.  The villain began to squirm harder, doing his damnedest to get her off of him, but she wouldn't budge.

Just as she felt her fire power begin to wan, she looked up at Ground Zero who stood at the ready.  "Do it!" She screamed.  "Now!"

She was in the way, and both of them knew it, but he understood what she was doing.  She had to hold on until the very last second in order to keep him from regenerating before the blow.  Ground Zero clenched his jaw, taking off towards the monster at full speed.  He closed in, 20 meters, 10 meters, five, three.  Just as he reached the sweet spot to release the explosion, Angel Blade released her hold, dropping just in time to avoid the brunt of it.

But it didn't work the way she'd planned.  Just as Ground Zero pulled the pin on his gauntlet, a spike protruded from the creature's shoulder, slamming into the hero, throwing off his aim and sending him flying backwards.  The misaimed blast caught Angel Blade in the back, the force throwing her through the air and scorching her skin.  She collided with the ground harshly several meters away.

She gasped in pain, looking up through the haze to see the aftermath of her failed plan.  Ground Zero lie in an unconscious heap, having been knocked into the side of the crater, his gauntlets destroyed and hero costume torn and dirtied.  Shoto was still kneeling on the ground a small distance away, his injured arm held close to his body as he watched in horror as his friends were all simultaneously knocked down.  Deku had also been hit by the blast, although not as bad, and he managed to stand up, costume slightly scorched.

Angel Blade grabbed ahold of her scythe, forcing herself into a standing position, favoring her bleeding leg.  She stared through the hazy smoke, and felt as though she might collapse in anguish.  The blast and her flames had done damage; the villain before her was scorched almost beyond recognition, small chunks of his body completely burned away, but to the heroes' dismay, he was still standing.

What else was there to do?  They were injured and running on empty, and it took everything they had just to have done what they had.

Shigaraki's wild eyes landed on the annoying girl that had pinned him with the scythe, and he suddenly gained tunnel vision, charging at her in a furry.  His fist flew at her faster than she could react, and she tried to raise her scythe to parry, but she knew that it was a failed effort.  A blow like that, in her state, would kill her.

"Ava!" A voice tore through the night as a rush of wind blasted the girl off balance.  In a blur, the green haired hero rushed to her aid, determined to protect his friend. He raised his arms, legs digging into the ground to block the force of the villain's blow, but in his desperation to get to her, he didn't see the other arm coming, this one forming into a malformed blade.

Angel Blade became aware of something wet splashing her face, and dizzy from the force that had knocked her over, she looked up, making out the silhouette of her best friend, standing over her in defense, a large blade impaled in his abdomen, running the hero through.

"I-Izuku?" She breathed, barely above a whisper. She couldn't believe her eyes, seeing the dark liquid staining his costume and the shiny surface of the blade, glistening red with his blood. He had saved her, but at the cost of himself.

"I-I'm not... I'm not... done!" The young hero said, looking up through the haze of pain. He knew his injury was bad, and he knew he should've been scared, fearing for his life, but in that moment, he felt nothing but determination. He had to win. If he didn't, his friends would die and the city would be destroyed. Hero society would collapse, and everything he'd worked so hard for would be gone. Shigaraki couldn't win. He wouldn't let him.

A fist flew, nailing the villain in the face and forcing him to step back, removing the blade from Deku's body. Deku took his stance. "This isn't over until I'm dead!" He shouted.

Angel Blade watched in awe and terror as her friend unleashed a frenzy of power, throwing punches and kicks in a flurry of attacks, moving so fast that they were a blur. She gripped the ground, trying to keep from being blown away by the massive wind pressure. It was a sight to behold, the young hero fighting tooth and nail, each blow stronger than the last, and she realized something.

Deku was using more than 100% of his power.

In his desperation and determination, he had surpassed his quirk's limit, pounding the villain again and again, targeting every weak spot he could find. He was using every once of strength he had to win.

Deku could feel his consciousness beginning to fade, his vision going in and out of haziness, but his power wasn't stopping. He had to finish it, now. Deku raised his fist, forcing all of his remaining power into his arm, and he swung it upwards, letting out the loudest battle cry he'd ever screamed in his life.

"PLUS ULTRAAAA!"

His fist collided with Shigaraki's chin, knocking the villain upwards and backwards. He stumbled, eyes fogging over, before he collapsed to the ground, out cold.

Deku panted, a gloved hand reaching up in a fist, striking a winning pose. They couldn't hear them, but Angel Blade knew that the world was cheering for her friend, the hero Deku, who'd saved them all.

Within seconds of his victory, Deku suddenly felt dizziness overtake him, and without warning, he collapsed, blood pooling on the ground around him.

A shrill voice cut through the night, echoing through the abandoned streets of Tokyo, a voice of fear and desperation.

"Izuku!"

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfiction #villain deku #villain!deku #anime #anime fanfiction #deku #midoriya izuku #shoto todoroki #todoroki #kirishima #red riot #katsuki bakugou #uraraka #Iida #froppy #tsuyu asai #tokoyami #shigaraki #league of villains

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Episode Reviews - Star Trek: The Next Generation Season 3 (1 of 6)

Capitalising on my last day of a break from my novel-writing efforts, I’m getting a start on episode reviews for the third season for Star Trek: The Next Generation now, so as to tide you all over until next weekend.

Episode 1: Evolution

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise approaches the Kavis Alpha binary star system to perform an astrophysics experiment led by Dr Paul Stubbs, analysing the decay of neutronium as a result of a stellar explosion that occurs every 196 years and is due to occur in the next few hours. Stubbs plans to launch a probe, dubbed the Egg, to gather the data, a result of a lifetime's development. Meanwhile, Chief Medical Officer Dr Crusher has returned to her duties on the Enterprise after a tour of duty at Starfleet Medical.

 As the expected time of the stellar explosion nears, the ship beings to malfunction, and the issue is traced to the computer core. Acting Ensign Wesley Crusher, who had been working on a project involving microscopic nanites, realizes that he may have inadvertently let two nanites from his experiments loose. The nanites were programmed to find ways to work together and may have evolved as a result. A scan of the computer core reveals that the nanites have replicated themselves and have taken up residence in the computer core. With the computer controls unreliable, the crew and Dr Stubbs attempt to see if they can remove the nanites from the core. However, Dr Stubbs shoots the core with a burst of gamma radiation, destroying a large number of the nanites. They retaliate by flooding the bridge with nitrogen dioxide, which the crew overrides.

 Dr Stubbs is confined to quarters, but the nanites attempt further revenge by shocking him with electricity. Captain Picard prepares to flood the computer core with gamma radiation to remove the nanites completely, but the android Second Officer Lt. Commander Data establishes communication with the nanites and allows them to use his body to speak with Picard. Picard realizes that the nanites are self-aware and conscious and took Dr Stubbs' actions as hostile, but they want peace. Picard negotiates a deal to send the nanites to Kavis Alpha IV, designating it as their homeworld with Dr Stubbs’ assistance. The nanites agree and repair the damage to the computer core before they leave it. Dr Stubbs launches his probe on time and collects numerous volumes of data.

Review:

There are a few notable changes in the show’s line-up; Worf has gone up from a lower grade of lieutenant to a higher one while Geordi is now a Lieutenant Commander, putting him up to the same rank as Data. Gates McFadden is now back as Dr Beverley Crusher, and as a result the supposedly McCoy-esque Dr Poklaski character is gone, along with head writer Maurice Hurley, who is believed to have been behind Gates’ departure back at the end of season 1.  Finally, the uniforms have undergone a change in design and material that was apparently requested by Patrick Stewart.

 This episode is better than either of the previous two season openers TNG has offered up, though it’s not as good as it could be. Apparently when Michael Pillar took over as head writer early in this season, he insisted every episode focus primarily on one character and be about something.  By that criteria, we get a focus of sorts in Wesley, and we get to see that not only is he struggling to measure up to all the demands placed on him as student and acting officer, but we also see something of what over-dedication could do to Wesley through the analogue of guest character Dr Stubbs. However, the nano-technology thread detracts from effective exploration of either issue.

 To make this episode truly brilliant, I think they should have either built up to Wesley letting the nanites out in error more and focused on his struggling to juggle his responsibilities and his mother’s concerns about that, or they should have focused on creating more parallels between Wesley and Stubbs to be explored.  In essence, this episode is evidence that Pillar’s approach was very much in its infancy at that point and was not well developed yet.  However, it does improve down the line, and the closing scene in Ten-Forward between Beverley and Guinan is superb.  Overall, I’d give this episode 8 out of 10.

Episode 2: The Ensigns of Commands

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise receives an automated message from the enigmatic Sheliak: Remove the humans on planet Tau Cygni V in four days. The Sheliak are a non-humanoid species with little regard for human life and would exterminate any humans found in their path. Their message is only due to their obligation under a treaty with the Federation to notify their intention to colonize before taking further action.

 There is no record of a Federation colony ship being sent there as it contains levels of hyperonic radiation lethal to humans, which doesn't explain why the Sheliak indicate otherwise. The Enterprise arrives in the system to find what looks to be a small colony on the surface. The android Second Officer, Lt. Commander Data takes a shuttlecraft to the planet to coordinate the evacuation as he is the only crewmember unaffected by the radiation. Once he arrives, he finds that the sensor readings were incorrect. He is informed by locals Haritath and Kentor that it is a colony of 15,253 people, the descendants of the wayward colony ship Artemis launched 92 years prior. The colonists' ancestors found a means to survive within the radiation but initially suffered heavy loss of life before an effective defence was found.

 Although it would normally be a simple matter of beaming the colonists off the planet, hyperonic radiation renders the transporters useless. Because of this, a complete evacuation of the planet would take an estimated three weeks as no dedicated transport ships are available until then, and the Sheliak are not willing to give the Federation any extra time beyond the three days required by the treaty.

 After explaining the situation and being rebuffed by the colony's leader, Gosheven, Data is befriended by a sympathetic colonist named Ard'rian. She expresses interest in Data as an android and invites Data to her home, where they discuss ways to persuade the colonists to evacuate. To his puzzlement Ard'rian kisses Data. Data explains to the colonists that they should evacuate their world before its imminent destruction, pointing out by reverse psychology that the only result of their heroic hopeless last stand will be their total annihilation. Gosheven, however, refuses to leave and insists they will protect themselves by fighting, which many of the colonists agree with.

 With time running out, Captain Picard and the Enterprise crew begin poring through the 500,000-word treaty in the hopes of finding something they can use to their advantage.

 At a meeting at Ard'rian’s home, Data talks to several of the colonists who are thinking of leaving the doomed colony; Gosheven comes in and electrocutes Data. Data recovers and reasons that if persuasion cannot work, then intimidation through a show of force should be his next option. Modifying his phaser to work in the hyperonic atmosphere, he raids the colonists' aqueduct to prove they are helpless to defend their livelihood. When Data easily stuns the colonists guarding the aqueduct, he points out that if they can't defend against a single person with a phaser, then they aren't capable of fighting the hundreds of Sheliak, who would likely destroy them via orbital bombardment. Data then sends a phaser charge up the aqueduct system to vaporise the water that is vital to the colony's survival, convincing the colonists to evacuate the world. Gosheven reluctantly relents.

 Back on the Enterprise, Picard exploits a loophole in the treaty. He invokes a section calling for third-party arbitration to resolve the dispute and names as arbitrators the Grizzelas, a species that is in its hibernation cycle for another six months. Picard offers the Sheliak a choice: wait six months for the Grizzelas to come out of hibernation, or give the Federation three weeks to evacuate the colony. Ultimately, the Sheliak give the Federation the three weeks.

 Just as Data is about to leave the colony in his shuttle, Ard'rian comes to say goodbye. She asks Data if he has any feeling over what has just happened, and Data explains that he cannot experience feelings. To her surprise, He then kisses Ard'rian. She remarks that he "realized" she needed a kiss; Data leaves Ard'rian and returns to the Enterprise.

 Aboard the Enterprise, Picard comments on Data's performance at a classical concert before his mission with the human colonists. Picard tells Data he performed with feeling, and Data reminds Picard that he has no feeling. Picard says that this is hard to believe, noting his fusion of two very different music styles in his performance suggests real creativity. At that, and in obvious reflection of his recent solution of the colony problem, Data concedes that he has become more creative when necessary.

Review:

It’s taken me reading through Memory Alpha’s notes on this episode to get any idea of what this episode’s title means. Apparently, it’s taken from a poem by John Quincey Adams and talks about ensigns as in flags or symbols rather than the officer rank used in TNG.  However, this episode is focusing more on Data struggling with how to take command when his lack of emotion hinders him.  That has nothing to do with flags or symbols, so for me the episode feels completely mis-labelled.  I think the writers should have worked longer and harder to find a more literal title and not picked a random line from a bloody poem (I, for one, find poetry to be largely intolerable; just a bunch of bad song lyrics no one could be arsed to put to music in the vast majority of cases where I’m concerned).

 That aside, this is a decent episode that does well to show Data having to cope in a situation a bit outside his comfort zone, while Picard and company do well to support the main story in their contributions to the episode.  It’s also a good episode about not only the merits of playing on people’s emotions and actions often having more impact than words, not to mention the importance of putting lives above places and possessions in crisis situations.  I also don’t much mind that Goshoven’s prejudice against Data isn’t better explored, since that would have just repeated ‘Measure of a Man’ from last season, and that wouldn’t add anything to the show as a whole, nor to this episode in particular.  Overall, I give it 9 out of 10.

Episode 3: The Survivors

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise responds to a distress call from a Federation colony on Delta Rana IV and discovers the planet to be devastated and devoid of life, save for a patch of land containing a house and vegetation. Transporting to the surface, the away team meets the human occupants of the house, Kevin and Rishon Uxbridge, who claim to have witnessed the attack that destroyed the colony, but are unaware that they are the only survivors. The team, finding nothing of interest save for a small music box, insists that the Uxbridges return to the Enterprise for safety, but they refuse. Aboard the Enterprise, Counsellor Troi begins to hear the music from the music box in her mind constantly, each repetition slightly louder than the last, which eventually reduces her to screaming hysterics. Dr Crusher is forced to place her in an induced coma.

 An unknown spacecraft appears and attacks the Enterprise, then flees. The Enterprise gives chase but is unable to overtake the spaceship; eventually Captain Picard orders the Enterprise to return to the planet. Picard transports to the surface personally; Kevin suggests they were spared because they are��pacifists. Upon the away team's return, the spaceship appears in orbit again, this time delivering a far more powerful attack. Picard orders the Enterprise to leave the system first, but then begins to suspect that the crew is being toyed with.

 Returning to the planet again, Picard transports to the surface to plead with the Uxbridges to leave with him. After being refused again, Picard tells them the Enterprise will remain to protect them as long as they live, and returns to the ship. The alien spaceship appears again and destroys the Uxbridges' home. Picard orders an attack on the craft, and unlike the previous encounters, easily destroys it. Playing on a suspicion, Picard has the Enterprise move to a higher orbit; after a short time, the Uxbridges' home reappears.

 Picard orders the Uxbridges beamed up to the Enterprise and confronts Kevin with his suspicions: Kevin and Rishon's house was destroyed in the attack and Rishon was killed, but Kevin, who is not human, has recreated them both, and created the alien warship to dissuade the Enterprise from investigating. Kevin admits the truth, and the illusory Rishon disappears. He removes the torturous music that he had placed in Troi's mind to prevent her from telepathically identifying him.

 Kevin reveals that he is a Douwd, an immortal energy being with vast powers, who fell in love with Rishon and settled with her on Rana IV. When the planet was attacked by an aggressive, destructive species called the Husnock, he refused to join the fight in accordance with his species' pacifism. Rishon, however, died defending the colony. Stricken with grief, Kevin lashed out with his vast powers and wiped out the entire Husnock species; over 50 billion. Horrified by his crime, he chose self-exile to the planet, creating the replicas of Rishon and their house to spend the rest of eternity. Picard states that they are not qualified to be his judges, having no laws to fit the magnitude of his crime. The Enterprise leaves Kevin and his illusion in peace, and Picard confirms he will issue a warning not to visit the planet. Picard later opines in his log that a being as powerful and conscientious as Kevin is best left alone.

Review:

This is an interesting mystery episode that seems to focus primarily on Picard, since he works out the mystery fairly quickly but then keeps the solution, or at least his part of it, unrevealed until much later.  However, once again the idiocy of Roddenberry rears its head, as according to an episode commentary I watched on a later episode in this round, 24th century humans supposedly weren’t meant to get angry at anything in Roddenberry’s mind. This is a stupid idea that is totally unbelievable, and as a result no one objects to Picard’s apparent sacrifice of the Uxbridges.  No one but Picard has apparently deduced they’re dealing with illusions of a kind, so surely someone should have questioned the captain’s actions.

 This is a clear-cut example of why Roddenberry becoming less involved during this season and eventually leaving Trek was a fundamental necessity for the franchise’s long-term survival.  To believe that humans, that any species, could ever lose such an integral and necessary emotion as anger, or that losing our anger is somehow a desirable evolutionary path, is simply idiotic. The fact that suppressing human emotion was the subject of a dystopian film like Equilibrium is also proof of this, as the dystopian emotion-suppressing regime is total collapse by that film’s end and rightly so.

 However, there’s not much issue exploration in this episode.  The mystery, when revealed, turns out to be Trek doing its own version of what Chris Claremont did in X-Men comics with the Dark Phoenix saga, but since the cosmically powered being going too far in moments of overwhelming need or emotion is just a guest character, it lacks the same sort of resonance.  The bottom line is this episode shows that despite the quality of the season’s first two episodes, TNG had yet to fully abandon its errors of the first two seasons.  I also absolutely loathed Troi’s hysteria performance and had to fast-forward it.  On balance, I’d give this episode 5 out of 10.

Episode 4: Who Watches The Watchers

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise travels to the planet Mintaka III to resupply and repair a Federation outpost being used to monitor the Mintakan people, a proto-Vulcan race near a Bronze Age level of cultural development.

 As the Enterprise nears the outpost, an accident causes the holographic rockface to disappear, exposing the outpost to Liko, a Mintakan. Liko attempts to approach and is hit with an electrical shock, which causes him to fall off the cliff and sustain critical injuries. When Chief Medical Officer Dr Crusher rushes to provide aid, she realizes the injuries are too severe to treat there and has him transported to the Enterprise for treatment despite the action violating the Prime Directive. Liko becomes conscious and witnesses everything occurring in Sick Bay, and focuses on Captain Picard giving instructions. Dr Crusher is able to heal Liko and attempts to wipe his memory of the incident before returning him to the planet. Commander Riker suggests that he and Counsellor Troi disguise themselves as Mintakans in order to search for Palmer, a missing member of the anthropological team, and to monitor Liko, to make sure the memory wipe worked. They discover to their horror that the mind wipe did not take, as Liko recalls an image of "the Picard", and has convinced other Mintakans that the Picard must be their god.

 Troi and Riker subtly try to dispel the myth of the Picard, which gains traction until a hunting party arrives with a delirious Palmer in tow. While Troi provides a diversion, telling the clan that another "like Palmer" is heading for the caves, Riker ties up an elderly man who was left behind to keep an eye on Palmer, and Riker and Palmer run away, and narrowly escape back to the Enterprise. Unfortunately, Troi is captured and held captive for her hand in the escape, leaving Picard to take steps to rectify the situation without further violation of the Prime Directive.

 Picard transports Nuria, the leader of the village where Troi is being held, to the Enterprise and attempts to show her that he and the rest of the crew are mortal, including having her witness the death of a member of the anthropological team in Sickbay. Picard returns with Nuria to the surface in the middle of a thunderstorm, which Liko has taken as a sign of the Picard's anger. Nuria attempts to rationalize with Liko, but Liko demands his own proof of Picard's mortality and aims an arrow at Picard. Picard insists that if that is the only proof that Liko will accept, then Liko should shoot. Liko does, but his daughter pushes him so that he only wounds Picard. Nuria shows Liko Picard's blood from the wound, and Liko and the others come to accept that Picard is not a god. Picard and Troi return to the Enterprise, and after he is treated, Picard returns to the surface one last time, and explains to the Mintakans that they will be removing the outpost and allowing them to develop on their own. Before Picard leaves, Nuria gives him a Mintakan tapestry as a gift.

Review:

This is our second Picard-centric episode on the run, and it’s much better in terms of both performance and issue exploration, not to mention emotional expression.  Moreover, it’s another chance to explore and debate that classic Trek chestnut known as the Prime Directive, which this time is broken by accident when it would obviously have been better to avoid that situation, and thereafter the issue becomes how best to resolve it.  As someone who thinks all religions are best treated as theories until proven or disproven by science (which in real life science cannot yet achieve), I enjoyed this because it honestly tries to look at the issue from both sides, albeit not for long.

 The episode explores the idea of an advanced race appearing god-like to a less advanced civilisation, which in more recent times has been utilised to work Thor and the Asgardian race into Marvel’s film in a sci-fi way rather than as beings of mystic fantasy, and also points out the inherent flaw in all religions.  Basically, once our guest aliens start believing in Picard as a god, they’re almost constantly trying to work out what do, and as Troi points out, “that’s the problem with believing in a supernatural being; trying to work out what he wants.”  This is where all religions fall down, because by and large that supernatural being never appears, never communicates directly, so you have no reliable, impartial means by which to determine if what ‘God’, ‘Allah’, ‘Zeus’, ‘Odin’ or whoever wants you to do has or hasn’t been done.

 The guest character of Dr Barron even suggests that to minimise the damage caused by the Prime Directive being violated, Picard actually step into that supernatural being role and impose commandments so that the potential religion goes in a positive direction, but Picard shoots the idea down.  He sees the abandoning of religion as an achievement, and to a degree I see his point of view.  A lot of our history’s worst moments have been born out of misinterpreting or misusing religion as an excuse for wars, bigotry, inquisitions, etc. and that’s even when there are commandments built into a religion.  The reality is that while religion can have its positive elements, it is ultimately through secular morality that isn’t based on abstract that a society is more likely to progress and thrive.

 For me, this is a great episode and another example of Trek at its finest.  I give it top marks because it really doesn’t put a foot wrong; 10 out of 10.

Episode 5: The Bonding

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

While investigating a planet once occupied by Koinonians, Lt. Worf and members of the Enterprise away team trigger an ancient mine. They are transported to Sickbay, but Lieutenant Marla Aster is dead. As Captain Picard delivers the news of Marla's death to her son Jeremy, Wesley Crusher talks with Commander Riker about how Picard had delivered the news of his father's death to his mother and himself. Worf expresses his desire to make R'uustai, a Klingon bonding ritual with Jeremy, as they are both orphans and he believes he can help the boy recover emotionally, but Counsellor Troi warns that Jeremy may react badly if Worf makes such an offer too soon.

 The crew investigates the planet, discovering mines that were recently unearthed and exposed. They observe a beam of charged particles emanating from the surface headed towards the Enterprise, while Troi senses a new presence from the planet. In Jeremy's quarters, a physical manifestation of Marla appears, explaining that the crew mistakenly considered her dead and that she wants Jeremy to live on the planet. Worf and security officers follow the two, preventing "Marla" from using the transporter to return to the planet, and Troi and Picard also intervene. Troi and Jeremy return to the Aster family quarters, which has the appearance of the Asters' home on Earth. Chief Engineer La Forge tunes the shields to stop the particle beam, causing "Marla" to disappear and the room returns to normal.

 A filament rises from the planet, striking the Enterprise and disrupting the shields; "Marla" appears and takes Jeremy, intent on going to the transporter room. Picard contains "Marla" with force fields and talks to her. "Marla" explains that she is one of two races that once lived on the planet; her species, made from energy, watched the other physical species wipe themselves out from wars and her people want to prevent more suffering caused by the remnants of the war, thus providing Jeremy with the illusion of his mother still being alive. Picard and Troi point out that dealing with death is part of the human condition. Wesley explains to Jeremy how he dealt with his father's death, explaining he was initially angry with Picard for living while his father died. Jeremy expresses his own anger at Worf, but Troi points out they are both orphans, while Worf notes that he was aided by humans after he lost his parents. Jeremy decides to go with Worf. Realizing that Jeremy will be all right, the illusion of Marla disappears and the alien presence is no more.

 Sometime later, Worf and Jeremy undertake the R'uustai ritual.

Review:

This is the episode I was talking about earlier where I checked out the commentary and discovered yet more example of how idiotic some of Roddenberry’s idealism got.  The episode is very much centred around the necessity of grieving for those we lose to death and how we go through that, and Roddenberry apparently didn’t want the affected child in this episode getting angry, part of which was down to this idea that 24th century humans just don’t get angry.  The other part was that he thought the humans of this time period would be taught to accept death from an early age, and as such there would be no inter-personal conflict as a result of someone losing anyone close to them.

 Frankly, that’s about the most inhuman concept I could imagine, because having experienced the loss of all my grandparents to various causes, most of which allowed for some preparation time, I can attest to this being the worst idea imaginable.  Nothing is ever going to prepare you to lose someone close to you, and no amount of time or human advancement will ever make accepting death any easier.  Luckily, the re-writes on the show’s original script nicely bypass Roddenberry’s filters and keep the natural emotions of grieving in there; they just lay beneath the surface of most of the affected characters because everyone’s basically repressing them, and there’s a kind of gentle catharsis for everyone in the final act.

 It’s also an episode where I feel the intended and actual focus of the story are different.  This was apparently meant to be a Worf story, but so much focus is put on the guest characters, not to mention Troi, Picard and Wesley, that it doesn’t really seem like Worf ends up really being the true focal point at all. However, it’s interesting to see how all these characters make worthwhile contributions to the subject at hand.  Wesley and Worf have both been through the same kind of thing Jeremy has experienced, Troi is brilliant acting as counsellor and helping everyone out (this is how she should be in more of her own episodes), and then you’ve got Picard not only struggling with this terrible duty, but also with the question of ‘why do we let families on this ship?’

 The last point is one that I think many people will find puzzling about TNG’s Enterprise; it’s a Federation ship, the Starfleet flagship at that, and we’ve seen by now how much danger it can encounter. As such, Picard has the right idea in noting how dubious a decision it is to have families, to have children and non-Starfleet adults, aboard a ship of exploration when it’s constantly risking the unknown and the potential perils that lurk therein.  It’s notable that later shows, and even all TNG films after Generations, removed the family ship concept.  We also get Data making some quite relevant queries and observations in a scene with Riker, so almost all the crew get their moment to comment, with only Geordi missing out from the main cast in terms of the focal issue.

 However, overall, it’s a brilliant episode, and a great testament to the wisdom of Michael Piller.  Another thing he did as head writer was to open the door to spec scripts, which were scripts submitted by the general public.  This enabled Trek fans and unestablished writers to make contributions and, in some cases, to get on the Trek shows.  Melissa Snodgrass’ script for ‘Measure of a Man’ was an early example of a spec script being used, and this one came courtesy of Ronald D. Moore, who ended up becoming a staff writer on the Trek shows for a decade after a few spec script successes.  If you can get this quality of Trek by taking on unsolicited fan scripts rather than using established TV writers who have little understanding of the franchise, then I think a lot of other franchises need to tap their fan-base in the same way. All in all, I give this episode 10 out of 10.