#internal guilt so seeing people say this in every comment section it’s like they’re coming after him 😭😭

[pannyacottafugo]

people who say if fugo had joined the rest of the group he would’ve saved the others and defeated the boss are insanely stupid and wrong and i can literally debunk that entire concept.

abbacchio was left alone. you could argue that fugo could’ve stayed with him, in which case it’s highly likely that *both* of them would’ve died, considering they had no idea who the boss was and he caught abbacchio by surprise. so saying he could’ve saved abbacchio implies he would’ve known that within a group of children there was doppio (who they’d never seen before??) he would’ve just killed off fugo too, that is if he would’ve even been with abbacchio at the time, which there’s no guarantee because no one thought he was in danger by staying on his own.

narancia was also caught off guard and literally no one could’ve predicted it. and let’s say EVEN IF they had, fugo wouldn’t have been able to do anything. he has almost no control over his stand and diavolo was inside mista’s body, meaning that trish would’ve also died, and mista would have no body to return to. if fugo was able to save narancia, then any other member of the gang would be able to, his stand doesn’t help here at all. and if he was there, this arc would’ve looked different because there would be an extra person, however in order to kill diavolo they would still have to get the arrow back and therefore regardless of who was swapped with who, fugo has no real power over anyone else here.

and diavolo couldn’t have been beaten any other way besides the stand arrow. because if fugo had attempted to kill him using purple haze, he would’ve just used king crimson to avoid it. and not only that, the body swap lasted almost up until it was time to defeat the boss, which prevents fugo from being able to take action anyway without harming another member of the gang. plus they didn’t know which body was hosting diavolo, so they didn’t know who to attack.

i’d say there are other fights where he would’ve been useful (like i’m so confident that he would’ve instantly been able to tell narancia had a stand on his tongue lol), and obviously it would’ve been really great to see him more and have more use of purple haze. but the idea that if he hadn’t of stayed behind then people wouldn’t have died is literally insane. it’s like the entire basis of his guilt in purple haze feedback, and the whole point is that it’s *not* his fault and what’s happened’s happened. yet i see this being brought up all the time and it drives me mad lmao. just because his stand is powerful doesn’t mean if he’d been there he’d just fix everything like that just neglects any kind of strategic obstacles, or all of the flaws with purple haze, or the fact that the fights aren’t just two guys in an arena brawling lol.

not to mention the idea that he was “written out for being too op” when araki has literally explained why fugo was written out but people don’t listen!!!!! i do wish he was at least mentioned later on tho :<

[mc-lukanette]

42 More Lukanette Thoughts

Marinette making a lucky charm bracelet for Luka, but being afraid to give it to him since Adrien also has one and she doesn’t want Luka thinking that he’s just a replacement for Adrien. Luka finds the gift eventually and naturally does not think that at all.

Luka being a morning person (or at least more of one than Marinette) so he helps Marinette’s sleep schedule by calling her to wake her up in the morning. This also leads to late-night calls between them where they both check if the other is sleeping at the right time (which can lead to either good or bad things; good because they’re checking on each other, bad because they clearly don’t have self-control and might just keep each other up).

Luka ends up hurting one of his hands and proceeds to avoid Marinette, knowing that his lack of ability to play music might affect him emotionally. He doesn’t want her to see him vulnerable. Marinette inevitably figures it out and frets over him while also thinking up ways to help him out.

Marinette being miserable every time she hears the ballroom music that she used to associate with her (former) love for Adrien. She was with Luka once and he got to witness her shouting angrily at the speakers playing the music that she has a boyfriend who is NOT Adrien and she doesn’t appreciate this reminder of Adrien’s existence.

Marinette struggling to confess to Luka, but then having no problem rambling off praises for him to other people.

Marinette tries on Luka’s highlights once and surprises Luka with it. He’s so caught off-guard that he reaches up and touches/feels her hair himself, earning a blush out of Marinette. Now she has to try his looks more so he’ll initiate physical contact more.

Luka getting his own version of “Copycat” (not him being jealous, but just an akuma who’s out to make him look bad). The name? Lukalike.

AU where Marinette isn’t technically into Adrien, but has been brought up/grew up to plan and schedule for the future to an obsessive degree (in line with all her scheduling in canon). She actually wasn’t romantically in love with Adrien but saw him as a viable option and he was “already in her plans” by the time Luka showed up. Marinette cut Luka off in a panic after realizing she was in love with him, but realizes her mistake later on and absolutely drops an emotional bomb on him when she reveals that she returned his feelings this whole time and had to get over her obsession for planning/organization first..

Luka still being the calm, collected individual he is, but he’s actually really excitable and “loud” over text. Marinette learns that after they exchange numbers and it’s adorable.

Vagabond (Homeless) Luka who travels all around, playing music for people. Marinette loves his music and will happily walk around to find him playing, even if she’s crunched for time. He provides lots of inspiration for her though it sure is weird how long he’s been around??? what could he possibly be sticking around for? (bonus if he sticks around so long that it leads into winter and obviously she’s not letting him stay outside)

Luka and Marinette meeting as Viperion and Ladybug, falling for each other, and they want to date but they also don’t want people to know so cue superhero dating.

AU where Juleka either wasn’t born or she and Luka simply didn’t grow up together, so Luka didn’t have to grow into the “big brother” type. He’s also bad with physical contact, as his mother isn’t a very physically-affectionate person, so he seeks out a way to be better with being touched. In comes Marinette and she happily offers to get him used to physical contact. Bonus if she starts feeling jealous at the idea of him eventually being able to touch other people and Double Bonus if she just ends up being the exception more than anything else and they’re both okay with that.

Pre-dating, Luka and Marinette knowing full well what they do to each other and going out of their way to make the other blush.

“Felix” divergence where it turns out that Marinette was still pursuing Adrien because she was convinced that Luka wasn’t actually crushing on her (thought it was her overthinking/hoping for too much because she “is used to being disappointed” by now, plus the fact that he confessed and then walked away without saying a word), but she realizes that he is when he makes the comment about “being there for her.” She explains it to him in relief and Luka’s heart is sent on a ride because he was convinced that she didn’t feel that way about him. Bonus if now Marinette is panicking about the video and will later be glad that it didn’t go through.

Sass “challenging” Marinette and teasingly saying that he’ll take Luka if she doesn’t want him. Cue Marinette being very jealous of Sass hanging around Luka all the time and she eventually gets fed up to the point of confessing to Luka outright, then being all smug to Sass who had planned this from the beginning so he’s not complaining.

Rose gets a cold, so Luka temporarily takes over as Kitty Section’s singer for practice. Marinette isn’t ready.

Childhood Friends AU where Marinette grows up believing that Luka and Juleka must have the same romantic orientation because they’re twins and she doesn’t know how orientations works. Thus, clearly Luka is gay which means that he doesn’t return her feelings obviously (she’s very wrong).

Marinette wanting a song to replace the ballroom music she remembers when she was still crushing on Adrien, so she non-subtly tries to find a song that Luka would like that they could slow dance to (either pre or post dating).

Post-battle, Viperion asking Ladybug if it’s okay for him to hang onto the snake miraculous for a little longer, then going on to explain that Marinette, a friend of his, seemed really sad that day and he figured it’d help to be visited by a hero. (Ladybug is screaming internally because she knows that she’s not supposed to let them keep them any longer than the battle but his request is so pure and sweet and he’s doing it for her--)

Viperion setting up for Second Chance. During the battle, he and Ladybug end up bonding and/or kissing, but Viperion ends up needing to go back, thus erasing it from the timeline. However, while Ladybug doesn’t seem to remember the specifics or what happened, she seems to have vague feelings that he used Second Chance and even touches her lips at one point with a thoughtful look.

Marinette learning how to do her own make-up to try and look closer to the age that Luka looks. She very much doesn’t need it to impress him/make him think that she’s pretty..

Marinette getting into bouts of being extremely lame and romantic, like texting Luka things like, “I was just thinking about you,” and then regretting it when he responds with something equally lame with no hesitation.

Fu being okay with Luka knowing Ladybug’s identity, as Luka is someone who keeps to himself, is able to keep a secret, and actively supports Marinette.

One day, Marinette accidentally catches Luka working on a love song that’s clearly written for her. He’s embarrassed for once, partly because he’d never intended for her to hear it, but she assures him that it’s okay and she’d like to hear the full thing. She shows up occasionally to listen to his progress, Luka suspecting nothing, then cut to when the full song is done and she ends up singing it alongside him without warning, essentially confessing back to him.

Event where Marinette is put in charge of selling custom-made “Ladybug Fan” and “Chat Noir Fan” T-shirts. And then in comes Luka with a white shirt and a shoddily-but-lovingly-written “Marinette Fan” on it (bonus if he tried to draw her pink flowers).

Marinette drawing something for Adrien in her sketchbook and keeps abandoning it to spend time with/visit Luka (a metaphor for her slowly getting over Adrien and falling for Luka instead). She’ll end up making something for Luka instead in the end.

At some point in adulthood, Marinette admitting to Luka that she’s been crushing on him for a long time, but was afraid of saying anything. Luka assures her that there’s still a place in his heart, but Marinette needs time to accept that (out of guilt and being convinced for so long that he’d never forgive her) and/or Luka needs time to really confirm to himself that she means it (not that he doesn’t believe her but he’s thought for so long that she didn’t like him that way). Cue awkward dorks slowly working their way into a relationship with hand touches, cheek kisses, and finally the full acceptance that they’re willing to forget about what they thought before and just love each other.

Luka and Marinette being married with kids. Whenever Marinette has to let Luka sleep, he’ll wake up later but with their kids telling him that she told them to tell him that she loves him (she also might’ve skipped breakfast because she doesn’t like having it without him and Luka will definitely be going to meet with her for lunch, complete with kisses for giving him so many feels in the morning).

someone: Marinette, don’t hide your face in your hands. [Marinette proceeds to use Luka’s hands to hide her face instead]

Marinette and Luka, having never met, being in a pet store and buying a pet mouse and snake respectively. Unexpectedly, the two pets escape from them at some point before they leave the store, and after frantically searching, they find the mouse and snake next to each other and actually seeming to get along as if they’re friends. The store owner confirms that the two animals frequently escape to see each other and they have no idea why, but Luka and Marinette acknowledge it and decide to exchange addresses so their pets can still see each other. Meeting up “just for the sake of their pets” quickly becomes an excuse.

Luka is definitely the type who wouldn’t wash off Marinette’s lipstick kisses for the longest time. Marinette ends up having to clean them off herself (which really just encourages him not to do it himself more).

Likewise, Marinette forgot her gloves once while it was cold and Luka warmed her hands for her, so she continued “forgetting them” after that.

Luka and Marinette end up getting a pet and Marinette struggling between finding Luka playing with their pet adorable and being extremely jealous because now the pet is stealing her Luka time.

Post-dating, Marinette having self-esteem issues over being as short as she is (maybe having gotten rude comments from models before). She keeps trying to kiss Luka from above and insisting on being the big spoon.

Kitty Section getting a singing game and Luka getting to hear Marinette singing for the first time. Now he has to hear it so much more. Bonus if their voices blend well together when they sing together.

Marinette wanting to give Luka promise ring but being convinced that he’d hate it because he “already has so many accessories” (as if Luka wouldn’t enthusiastically wear anything she gives him).

Luka being an exhausted rock star who flees from paparazzi and his fans. Marinette ends up seeing him and letting him hide in her house, being a huge fan of him but not getting to star-struck levels since she grew up with a famous model friend and knowing celebrities. She allows Luka to hide at her place whenever he wants and eventually worries about him seeing her as “just like his fans” when she realizes that she’s crushing on him.

Marinette breaking up with Adrien in adulthood, which starts a lot of rumors from people about how Marinette will just turn down any guy she sees because who in the right mind would break up with the sunshine model??? Then, cue Luka (who may or may not have met Marinette yet) coming in and seeing all the distance people make from Marinette (and not getting it), so he happily approaches her and strikes up a conversation because he doesn’t care about rumors or anything like that.

Marinette getting a two-seater bike for Luka and trying to be subtle about it like

Alya doing a scheme by inventing some sort of game where someone gets chosen and has to shout out the person they love because, “Girl, you blurt things out all the time! You’ll totally say Adrien’s name,” and then Marinette blurts out Luka’s name because she loves him and not Adrien, shocking everyone.

If Marinette and Luka (i.e: the “thinkers” of the hero group) were akumatized together, Paris - no, the world - would be officially screwed.

Fashion Designer Marinette and Rock Star Luka. Marinette has been trying to confess to Luka for a while, but things usually go wrong or the timing is always off. She finally says “screw it” to subtlety, and waits for them to have an interview together (as Luka wears Marinette’s clothes constantly and they’re best friends), then unzips her jacket to “get comfortable” while they’re sitting next to each other, revealing an, “I Love Luka Couffaine (yes, romantically),” shirt. The interviewer and audience notice immediately (especially due to the large screen in the background that shows an enlarged view of the interviewer, Luka, and Marinette) and then it’s just a matter of waiting for Luka to notice (probably after he stops gushing about Marinette’s amazing clothing choices).

[alamhigyoooo]

AS PROMISED - talk to me about your OT3!! ♥ I wanna know it all!! Does it take long before they are all on board? How do Raha and Aymeric get into each other? Does it start physical or are there feelings involved quickly? Tell me about their dynamic with each other and with Hallura \o/

aHHHHHOOOOOOOOO BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY EVERYONE STRAP IN FOR A LONG ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! g’raha x hallura x aymeric is HERE

sticking this under the cut because i’m about to unleash an essay on yall about my ot3 but read on if you wish to find out more about them...

spoilers for 5.3!!!

so immediately after bringing g’raha and the scions back to the source, hallura has a total breakdown in private about how suddenly she has to live with extremely deep love for two people with BOTH of those people now very present in her life (for anyone who doesn’t know i had an extreme crisis about hallura’s endgame ship which i detailed, in part, in this chapter’s comment section) 

to recap hallura’s love life until this point: she fell in love with raha and planned to propose to him before he locked himself into the crystal tower, and then during the events of heavensward started sleeping with aymeric as a coping mechanism. eventually feelings were admitted and they started seeing each other seriously in secret; hallura proposed at the end of stormblood and then they went public with their relationship after the ghimlyt dark. THEN hallura got summoned to the first and discovered her first true love who she definitely never stopped loving was alive and also was very much in love with her, and since then she’s been carrying a guilt over having feelings for two people and it’s been eating away at her

BUT YOU CAME HERE FOR AYMERIC AND G’RAHA’S ROMANCE...so let us begin :)

they actually get to know each other when hallura kind of goes awol on both of them; once raha was done convalescing (she stayed by him every day) hallura went back to aymeric and spent one night with him but was totally silent the whole time, and then the next day she was gone off to ghimlyt to deal with the threat of the sapphire weapon.

except she didn’t come back right after that, or after a few days, and only through the grapevine did either raha or aymeric find out that she’d then jumped over to gangos to help the bozjan resistance. aymeric actually took a trip to the rising stones in secret, where he was found by raha, and that was the first time they met each other...aymeric wasn’t sure what to think (i wouldn’t say he felt threatened but he was definitely uncomfortable) and raha was extremely embarrassed but secretly very enchanted by aymeric (catboy got MAD flustered over him he could 100% see why hallura would choose aymeric)

aymeric learned a long time ago from thancred who g’raha was, though i don’t think he realized how deeply hallura loved raha still, and when aymeric would pay visits to the scions post-5.3, alphinaud and alisaie filled him in on what happened on the first since hallura could never bring herself to, and piece by piece aymeric started to understand just how much hallura was probably breaking over her feelings

and meanwhile raha was dealing with his own internal struggle upon returning to his new body, wherein his more temperate crystal exarch persona was failing to overcome the more hot-blooded g’raha tia’s still-fresh feelings for hallura and in typical g’raha tia fashion he decided to do something extremely stupid and punish/restrain himself by ensuring he saw aymeric as much as possible to remind himself how he didn’t fit into the picture anymore...

it’s during this time (a few months i’d say) that they kind of just get to know each other...and i think honestly aymeric falls first? i talk a lil bit about it here; raha is super hopeful and positive and just everything that brings out the best in aymeric, and aymeric quickly understands just why hallura loved g’raha so much. he drinks big Respect Hallura juice, and even though it’s hard for him to admit, he agrees with her taste - raha is a wonderful person who has a lot of love to give, and pretty soon aymeric is like oh god. oh fuck. well. i guess we’re going in! (definitely inspired to be a little chaotic romantically because of hallura, but the chaotic bi energy was there to begin with) 

raha’s a lot slower on the uptake re: self-penance, but once aymeric sets his sights on wooing raha it’s over for the catboy...raha is too much of a romantic and too SWEET to not just freakin swoon over a tall elegant dark-haired man actively attempting to Get Him. like aymeric he is also very much approving of hallura’s taste, but unlike aymeric he also denies himself hope - so basically we just have aymeric courting (discreetly) raha; the other scions are kind of surprised to see hallura’s paramours getting along so well in her absence but hey man if it works it works and better that then to have them fight yo

but all this time hallura is GONE like she just....she’s gone lol

she only chooses to return to eorzea (a HOT minute later) to break off her engagement with aymeric because she was so so guilty about loving raha still - but she didn’t break it off to leave for raha. she’s determined to give up on relationships altogether and just be single for the rest of her life because she’s certain she’ll never get over either of them, but neither of them deserve to live in what SHE thinks is limbo while she fights her own feelings.

so surprise surprise when she returns and finds both aymeric and g’raha absolutely chilling with each other in ishgard at the borel manor and they’re both reading by the fireplace and she comes in and sees them and they’re both so so happy to see her, and her perfectly rehearsed rejection just evaporates from her mind and she tries to run away again because this has to be some kind of sick joke - 

in this ot3 i attribue most of the communication to aymeric, and he, while thrilled to see her again, straight up is like “no you sit down we’re having a talk right now” and she confesses on the spot she has to leave him and can’t be engaged to him because it’s not fair to him that she’ll never get over raha - which is ALSO a confession to raha that she still loves him (and let’s be real it was clear that she did but g’raha is a river in egypt called de nile and never let himself believe it)

there’s a lot of crying involved; aymeric is obviously upset because he doesn’t want to not be engaged to hallura, and he tells her on the spot that she can’t do that because that’s not fair, and all he wants is for them to talk to each other, and they’re both kneeling on the floor and he’s clutching her shoulders and that’s when raha just gently touches both of them and says he’ll just leave...it’s his fault they’re falling apart like this

and both hallura and aymeric both ADAMANTLY say “NO!” and latch onto him, and then all three of them are crying on the floor and there’s lots of apologies and none of them really know how much time has passed, but eventually they cry themselves out and it ends with hallura’s head in aymeric’s lap and she’s holding raha’s hand and aymeric and raha are sitting beside each other...raha is so exhausted he’s leaning against aymeric’s shoulder

and hallura breaks the silence after a while and says “so where do we go now?” because it’s very obvious that there is no going back to the way things were, and that’s when aymeric clears his throat and admits (with embarrassment) that he’d be open to trying something with all three of them

raha is like Excuse me? and hallura sits up bc what the heck has she missed, and aymeric then admits further that he’s caught feelings for raha and has even slightly been trying to court raha...much to raha’s embarrassment he’s like “you were WHAT? so i wasn’t just imagining it?”

and hallura is like...she can’t even be mad because a) that’s exactly her own dilemma and b) that’s also really hot,,, but while she would be happy to do it everything hinges on g’raha’s consent; and it takes raha a moment to process but honestly when presented with two open hands waiting for him (him, not just any third party) he cannot help but take them with a smile. and i think this is really important for g’raha because hallura and aymeric BOTH actively express interest in HIM, for who he is, there is room in the relationship that can only be filled by raha, and raha is someone who wants so very desperately to belong.

so of course he says yes, and that’s how the ot3 is really born. there’s some more talking about things - living arrangements, scolding hallura for ghosting them for like 3 months, what the heck are they gonna tell the scions - but eventually they settle on a three-way engagement of sorts, and they’re all going to have matching rings and other cute bs

they are very much founded on feelings first!!!!!!! hallura might be the biggest thot in the world who actively makes aymeric into a thot as well but to me there is no way they could have survived as a functioning ot3 if it was not based in emotion. raha is too in his head and aymeric is too much of a thinker for something purely physical to last, imo.

...that is not to say, however, that they aren’t physically compatible - they are most definitely physically compatible. (for content sake i shall keep this post sfw but if you were to send an nsfw ask...i’m just saying i will definitely answer 👀)

dynamic wise (and this is where i get meta, the characters fall into these roles without necessarily realizing it themselves LOL i love being the writer) the ot3 can be summed up like this:

aymeric: the thinker (left brain LOL)

raha: the dreamer (right brain LDKJGLSKJD)

hallura: the heart

raha & aymeric represent the rationality of the relationship and do a lot of talking, a lot of planning, and a lot of smiling together. they’re the leaders, so it’s in their nature to have a game-plan for things. raha inspires the best in aymeric: his enthusiasm is infectious and really stokes aymeric’s determination, and aymeric draws a lot of strength and inspiration from raha’s own knowledge as a leader that coexists with his belief that mankind is worth saving. there is an EXTREMELY healthy amount of mutual respect here, and these two are absolutely the “romantic looks over papers that they could honestly care less about” plus aymeric finds raha’s allagan nerding ADORABLE; raha is just absolutely smitten with how charming aymeric is and very much admires his determination to overcome the obstacles set against him, and how aymeric loves his people despite ishgard’s very prominent flaws.

hallura & raha represent the spontaneity of the relationship - they don’t let their feelings control them per se, but they’re the ones who really say “screw restraint” and push the relationship into the unknown - exploring new parts of the relationship, experiencing the world together, excitement for growth and change. these two are allergic to stagnation and are constantly striving to be dynamic (in my piece “fade” i touch on how i think raha’s controlled crystal exarch persona gives way to his younger, more carefree self, in a good way) and they serve very much as the relationship’s “light”, which is not to say that aymeric is not bright for them, but hallura and raha are more like the sun as aymeric is like the moon. these two are the “batteries” of the relationship and keep things exciting and fresh.

hallura & aymeric represent the confidence and assuredness of the relationship - they have spent a LOT of time together already and have a very good grasp on what they like, what they want, etc. they are both quite confident in themselves and they uplift raha from his insecurities to show him just how much he’s worth. when confronted with outside criticism or scorn these two are the ones who stand their ground; they have the experience to show for their commitment and they’re very much teachers in the way that raha is still a learner. they are also the comforters - aymeric is very good at soothing, and hallura is very good at talking someone’s ear off to help them feel better LOL these two are the romantically matured ones and they set the example for give and take of the relationship.

it’s not always perfect, there are definitely spats and each has their notable quirks. hallura is the fighter, and if she doesn’t understand something she’ll call it out or say something, and that can be a little abrasive; raha has a lot of self-confidence issues and has trouble vocalizing his needs, which leads to some miscommunications at the start; and aymeric has a tendency to ice people out when he’s upset and while he’s the logical one he is also the one who remembers stuff - THIS is the grudge holder LMAOSDKJFLLGLHSLDKFGLJ 

but all in all i think they balance each other out relatively well! i will admit that i worked really hard to find a dynamic that worked realistically for them - i was terrified of just slamming them together because it was “easier”. i told myself if i was going to write an ot3 i was going to do it justice, and besides the relationship dynamics are just that much more fun to write especially for someone like me who delights in exploring the details of every interaction LOL

i hope you enjoyed!!!! this got REALLY LONG god i am so sorry sdfklgljsldkfglj please always feel free to send me ot3 asks i will COMBUST and then write a dissertation in reply LMAO

[onisiondrama]

PART 12 - videos #22 & 23

(Click here for video mirrors) - These are not my words or thoughts, I’m just summarizing what Greg / James is saying in his videos. Apologies for any offensive language or comments that may appear. - I am not repeating stories anymore and will replace these stories with brackets describing what he’s talking about. If you don’t know these stories you’re going to have to go back and read previous parts or watch his previous videos.

the past

- Another email. Person says Greg and Shiloh’s relationship reminded them of their relationship with their ex. Their ex would fake mental illness and fake episodes when they would try to leave. Greg says Shiloh would fake seizures around when they had arguments or when he tried to break up with her so that makes sense. [Shiloh popped out of seizure after he threatened to call ambulance story] He says that’s why he knew they were fake and why he didn’t take them seriously. He just thought that’s who she was and thought she was just weird. - Person says this type of manipulation only works on people who want to help. Greg says his hero complex is pathetic and he hates it. He doesn’t want to save people because it always screws him over. Except with Kai, but Kai didn’t need to be saved because he had his whole life planned out. He was going to be a surgeon, but instead Greg helped him get a bachelor's degree in psychology by spending $100,000. He says it was cool he got to help Kai with that. - Person says if Greg was still with Shiloh, he’d be living in fear. They list aspects of his life they believe she would control. Greg says the only thing she controlled was if he looked at a women, h-e-n-t-a-i, or p-o-r-n she’d freak out on him. She’s very jealous. - Person describes their relationship with their ex more. Greg says Shiloh didn’t try to ruin his life until she started doing interviews, 8 years after [Shiloh cheated story, he never jerked off to her crying] - Person talks about the impact their relationship had on them 6 years later, trust issues, avoid people, push people away. Greg says Shiloh did not have that impact on him. - Person says what Shiloh did to Greg was abuse. Greg says he feels putting the label of abuse on what Shiloh did to him is not what he wants to do right now. [Shiloh wrapped arms around him story.] He says she wanted him to do something bad to her so she could use that to guilt trip him. He realized in that moment some guys lash out and hit because they are backed into a wall and don’t know what to do. He was tested and he doesn’t hit. He giggles like the Joker, but in more of a pussy boy way. Shiloh weighed the same as him and was very strong and he didn’t want to fight it because he was afraid he’d hurt her. He doesn’t want to say he was abused because as a man it doesn’t feel normal. - Another fan email. Greg says he doesn’t have a perfect memory, but he has a pretty good one, he doesn’t have BPD, doesn’t have Alzheimer’s, so he has a normal brain besides his depression that he was diagnosed with. He says no one knows all the facts. If there’s a god, he or she might. - Person says they think there are details on both sides that aren’t being told. Greg says he doesn’t know what that means. He tells us stuff as it comes to his mind. - Person says Greg doesn’t have to prove his innocence unless he’s charged and even then he doesn’t have to prove himself to strangers online. Greg says the problem is the strangers online can harass you, SWAT you, send you horrible things in the mail, constantly make meat pizza deliveries to you. Every pizza company in the area should know by now not to deliver pizzas to him because they’re pranks and they’re wasting time and money. People don’t care if they’re stealing from companies, or if they make illegal calls to emergency agencies, or if they’re wasting animal control’s time. That’s why he has to establish innocence to the general public. [Internet is guilty until proven innocent when it should be innocent until proven guilty rant] - Person says they are 37 year old woman who works in law enforcement and it makes them sick that people are going so hard on someone who has yet to be charged with a crime. She says she wanted to show support and tells him to stay strong. He says that’s cool. [People don’t care about real crimes rant.] - Says his relationship with Shiloh was toxic and he’s glad he broke up with her. He should have broken up with her sooner. [Called police on Shiloh story, he ran away to LA.] He says a month ago he found out he could have gotten a restraining order against her. [Shiloh made him feel like she was the one, cheated.] If you raise someone else’s baby and they got pregnant with someone else you never met before while you were dating them, you’re a cuck. He’s happy to date a single mom, but not in that situation.

reality

- He want to bring some of you to reality. He says if you search “onision jail” on twitter you will see the worst things ever said to him. He received an email that said “I can’t wait until you die in jail.” -This is the reality check he hopes we all face: there’s no crime. [Sarah admitted nothing happened until she was an adult, NDA, blackmail.] Billie and Sarah both admitted Sarah was never groomed. People were around and saw them with Sarah so it was obvious she was never groomed. He was mean to her. - People talk about photos being exchanged. They’re talking about Kai, not him. The laptop belonged to Kai. Phone text exchanges is what Kai’s accused of. He 100% believes Kai wouldn’t want to send photos of that nature to someone who is not of age. The photos were not obtained through honest means in his opinion. It’s disturbing someone held onto and released those photos when they knew Kai didn’t want them to have them. He says there were two pictures and they wound up on instagram with parts cropped out. It was not sexual. - Says Regina says photos were exchanged, but he was informed Regina is a liar. Regina has no proof this occurred. He says he doesn’t know about this exchange because he is disinterested in Regina. - [Doorbell rings and dog barks.] Greg comes back and says once again you guys pranked the pizza place, defrauding pizza companies by having them make pizza and not paying for them. They got sent away once again without being payed. You guys are absolute scumbags. - Says Regina is a very ugly girl. He says he knows it comes off as mean, but he doesn’t believe in filters or PC culture. He’s allowed to think someone is ugly or gross. He saw her in a video thumbnail. He’s not trying to get our approval. - Greg says crimes typically have to happen in order for someone to go to jail. What he’s accused of is grooming. It didn’t happen and if it did it’s not a crime. - Greg and Kai backed up all their texts on a cloud so there is no escaping the evidence. He says they would show us, but we would probably try to get him canceled again for “doxing” [air quotes]. If he tries to show proof and defend himself you guys say it’s doxing. If it ever goes to court he’ll unload all the texts from day 1 to the last day. It’ll prove she said she groomed them and there were zero inappropriate photo exchanges. [Kai’s not into p-o-r-n] Except he thinks Kai had guys kissing on his tumblr. - Sarah is a shameful liar. She keeps saying she has evidence yet they’re still free. Greg have her $150 for her birthday because she helped him build a chicken coop. He says it’d be cool if she gave that back because she’s done more than $150 worth of damage with her lies. She also apparently made tens of thousands of dollars off of you guys being gullible. - [His forums were 18+ only] Says there was a rumor the forums were deleted last year when the forums where people submit stuff, onision.xyz, haven’t been around since 2016. There were dead forums up that no one was using. All the submission sections were deleted 2 years ago because there was too much controversy around adults sharing photos. He was just telling people if they were fat or ugly or not. - His discord is adults only and doesn’t even have a selfie section.  - He never exchanged inappropriate picture with anyone. - He says the police representative that was spoken to was the craziest thing because he doesn’t know why you’d comment on an open case. People say there’s 19 calls or investigations. The police have only been to his house 6 times. They’re talking about how many times people called the police, but most of the time they don’t come because they’re sick of people making shit up. - [Sarah was rejected, apologized for r-a-p-i-n-g them, left] He says he bought her the movie Dodgeball. She was mad he didn’t want to watch it with her and that was one of the last interactions they had. He made it up to her by watching another movie. He was trying to make her happier before she left so they wouldn’t be on horrible terms. [His BPD video upset her.] - He doesn’t know why Sarah would watch this video, but if she does he tells her to move on with her life so he can move on with his. He tells her when he was talking about gross smokers, he wasn’t talking about her. She never smoked around him so he wouldn’t be able to taste any smoke nastiness on his tongue. He was talking about Shiree who took his virginity. Sarah internalized everything he said as if it was about her, which is probably part of her mental thing. - If the accusations against Kai were real, they would have went to the police, but instead they went to the internet. As far as he understands Regina promoted a plastic surgery operation, Shiloh promoted a new album, Sarah promoted a Venmo with tens of thousands of dollars. Everyone’s promoting something. - The crime accusations are against Kai, but people don’t talk about Kai because he’s not popular to talk about so they blend what people say Kai did onto him. None of this will hold up in court. The police are being pranked. - [He repeats his earlier points and stories a lot.] Asks if his crime is getting blackmailed and sexually extorted by someone? Says he has witnesses, but not to Sarah apologizing. That was just to him. - He says someone tried to SWAT them but it failed. The police department is fed up by how much people try to troll them. Someone tried to send him mail with powder in it and they shut down the post office because it was dripping liquid and had a hate messages. He says no doubt from one of the moron commentary channel viewers that believed everything they said. Basically threatening his life. His house was egged by teenagers and they looked in his car. He would show us the footage, but he’s saving it for court. They thought they weren’t home because they covered up their windows after Hansen. 

[mirarelle]

Two years ago today was the start of the longest two weeks of my life, yet also the start of the shortest two years.

To think that it’s been that long, feels impossible; because almost every waking moment since, I haven’t been able to get it to leave my mind. It plays on repeat in my head, and I haven’t found a way yet to move on.

My mother’s death took something from me. My peace of mind, or maybe it took all the strength I truly had left, because asking anyone who knew me then who’s still with me now, knows I am not the same. During that time, I barely knew what to do with myself, and time barely moved, like it was a drawn out torture designed just for me, as selfish as that sounds. 

The only way I knew how to cope with any of it, and measure the passage of time, was to write it all down. Not every day had a lot, but it’s what I could get myself to put down in words in a time when I could barely form any.

Some may say it’s attention seeking, some may think it’s a dig at some people mentioned. But for me it’s to help show the feelings that have been sitting bottled up for far too long.

~*~20th 8am

It’s all so surreal. Like none of this is really happening. I see her there, but she’s not my mom. There are similarities; the same slender nose, her teeth are a familiar snaggle, the same blonde hair. But the pallor of her skin, the gaunt deathly pale of it, it’s aged her. She looks too close to death to be the lively woman I knew.

 The doctors keep speaking in ‘ifs�� and ‘whens’, not really saying anything that holds ground, because they can’t say for certain that anything good or bad will happen. They don’t want to make promises they can’t keep. Little do they know that what they are saying, therefore, can’t ease me.

 I need a definitive answer, I need something to hold on to. All I can do is pace, because I don’t know what will happen, and unlike some, I cannot hold onto the power of prayer to get me by. I’m depending on these doctors with no answers to make my mother well, not ‘God’. No, I can’t justify prayer when I feel like that being is not the cause or the relief of the pain and suffering my little bubble of the world is dealing with. Doctors however, they are solid, tangible, and doing everything they can to help my mother through this.

 It’s strange to me that in this time, even though I’m here supporting her, that even now my mind keeps wandering to the negatives. Like it’s searching for a reason to not care that she’s like this, when judging by the tears and the fear I am feeling, I undeniably do. But I keep reminding myself of the last incident I had in a hospital involving my mother. I was pregnant with Alice, induced and ready to burst, but being told that I would need a C section. At the news and while I was being prepped to go in, my mother who had been there most of the day, left. She “didn’t want to see her daughter cut up like that”, so she just left me. I, on the verge of going into a frightening operation I really didn’t want to get but had no choice in the matter; who wanted and needed the support, lay abandoned.

 I’d completely forgotten the event over time, but for some reason as I sat with her the first time yesterday, it came to me. I didn’t understand it. I don’t understand it. Right alongside the fear that while I’m sitting there it will turn into the first major scene that I wrote with Madison. Begging nurses and doctors to do something, to save her mom, like it’s a cruel joke to actually go through the emotions I faked so well. Like this is my fault for killing off the mother of a character I claimed to have modeled after myself. A woman who was a seamstress, not so unlike my own mother. A woman the daughter admired beyond all others.

 In my awkward sense of guilt, I feel like this is my fault even when I know it’s not. I didn’t put a tumor in my mother’s lungs. But how similar the two scenes are playing out, I can’t help it.

 ~*~ 20th 12:40pm

The Doctor came to talk to me around noon. He says to expect the worst, as if I hadn’t already mulled it over a million times with every other possible outcome. He called me pragmatic, the way I was able to keep a calm mind and sensible standpoint on the whole thing, meanwhile I’m internally berating myself for sounding like a cold, heartless bitch.

 And I finally found out why every nurse and doctor was skirting my question of how long she’d gone without a pulse. I’d asked more than once, but they could never give me a number.

 20. 20 minutes. It’s practically a death sentence. The brain is far away, and a loss of blood, and a weaker than required heartbeat... that is a recipe for brain damage.

 I hate thinking it. I hate knowing it. I hate ever having heard the numbers or the knowledge so I could remain blissfully hopeful and be more like everyone else.

 ~*~ 20th, 3pm

I'm starting to understand zombie movies better with all of this. Why it's so hard to shoot a loved one who's turned. It's easy to yell at the screen that the character is being stupid, but that's because we don't put ourselves in their shoes. Because you still see them, even if they aren't the same anymore, there is always the hope that they will be them again, what if they could get better? What if there’s a change and I'm pulling the trigger too soon? What if I'm forced to make that decision with my mom?... Could I pull the trigger?

Because as I sit here staring at this woman, realizing she might not be the same woman I knew last week, possibly barely human at all; I see my mother, and think she might just wake up and just start carrying on a conversation with me out of the blue like nothing ever happened. What I wouldn’t give for that to be possible… because I don't think I have the strength to do what would be necessary...

 ~*~20th 10pm

Since the incident, they had kept my mother on ice, letting her body heal while keeping her preserved I guess. But today they had been letting her warm up to see how her organs could handle it, if they could function properly at a regular temperature, to discover that she had a fever and immediately started to cool her again. They keep throwing numbers out there for a length of time, but the reality is that they don't know anymore than we do.

As I was coming to see her a final time before exhaustion could claim me, the phone happened to ring at the nurse's station. My Aunt Dawn whom I've never even really met spoke to me. I don't know the full details of the feud, but she was beside herself with grief I didn't expect from a woman who has never been in my mother's life for the entirety of my being. I didn’t know what to say to her except to explain.

The more the doctors come to me with the decisions and information, the more I can feel the stiffness in my family. Like I chose for this to happen or something. I’m not any more pleased I’m going through this experience than they are, but I’m doing it to the best of my ability. Taking it as it hits me, even if each impact feels like it’s chipping away at me, and their backhanded comments only make it worse.

Maybe if we find a will, it has someone else mentioned as power of attorney, maybe then they’ll be happy.

 ~*~21st 11am

They said that things are looking good, vitals are up. They won’t be taking her out of sedation until sometime between tonight and tomorrow, so I’m going to go home and take a much needed rest. I feel hollow. This whole experience is draining in a way I never thought I could have felt before.

 ~*~21st 4pm

This is so stupid. I’m waiting, pacing again, for John to come and get me because low and behold, they changed their damn minds and started bringing her out of sedation while I was at home sleeping. Why can’t they keep their fucking stories straight? Seriously. I feel like I’m going to miss her because they’re going to make a judgement call at 5 and I don’t know if John can make it here and back on time. I feel so helpless and trapped at their mercy. I knew I should have stayed.

~*~21st 5:30pm

We made it to her, but she wasn’t really all there. Her eyes kept rolling back into her head and she was sucking on her tube. Seeing her like this scares me, even knowing this isn’t her fully out of sedation, but seeing her weak and frail and dependent on others is a strange and very wrong sensation. My mother is strong and as independent as they come… Seeing her so small and helpless… It puts an ache in me that I can’t even describe.

 ~*~21st 10:30pm

We just missed her, apparently coherent, answering questions with nods, squeezing fingers and wiggling toes on cue. But Joey deserved something on his birthday, and they say they are trying again in the morning anyways. I get to go home again and spend some time with Josh. I feel like I haven’t seen him or Alice in weeks, yet it’s only been a few short days of this life of practically  living at the hospital. I can’t tell Alice what’s happening, and I know if I even start to try to tell her I’ll lose myself. I don’t want her to worry about me, and I don’t need to bog her down if this all ends better than my mind keeps trying to tell me it will.

 ~*~22nd 8:30 am

My mom saw me. The feeling of that is amazing, yet at the same time I feel like she didn't know who I was. Maybe I was just something for her to focus on. We noticed we were riling her up and decided it was best we let her be, the nurses saying they were going to try taking the breathing tube out soon anyways, then let the doctor do his rounds. It usually ends at 11:30ish anyways, so we’ll come back later.

 ~*~22nd 12pm

They’ve sedated her again. Reason? Because despite all the positive signs we thought we saw earlier, they were misconstrued. Yes, she has basic motor functions, but where they are looking for rational comprehension, the nurses were met with agitation and animalistic rage, that of someone whose brain has degenerated… Possibly beyond repair. They say they want to give her time to heal, but the reality might just be that that thrashing, wild, unresponsive being might be all we have left of her. And I don’t think I can handle that. 

 ~*~23rd 1pm

The worst news yet came today. Apparently my mother is suffering more than we knew. We learned that she has pneumonia in both of her lungs, her iv got infected and she now has sepsis, and the cherry on top: the tumour is a result of stage 3 lung cancer. All of that, and we still don't know what the limit of her brain function is yet. And treating the cancer? Near impossible. Due to location. Inoperable. Due to sepsis. No chemo. And radiation is merely a bandaid. And if she can't even breathe on her own, there's no point in trying…

Everything feels like it’s crashing down around me. With every new discovery I become more buried, and it’s suffocating me. I keep holing it up in myself other than to write it here, but I don’t know how to show it. I feel like I have to keep going, keep pushing it down because I’m the one that the decisions fall to. I have to show to everyone that I can handle this, but I really don’t know how much longer I can.

 ~*~24th 2am

Everyone keeps calling me strong, but I don't feel strong, I feel like a hack. I put on this mask of cold indifference but inside I'm a scared little girl who's afraid to lose her mother.

 ~*~24th 12pm

My family ganged up on me. They surrounded me like a pack of starving wolves would to vulnerable prey.

Pat has been my strength in all of this, my backbone, helping me get through things that nobody else wanted to step up and do. Things like making sure my mom’s bills got paid, and finding out about her disability checks. Things nobody wanted to accept needed to happen. Everyone thought my mom was going to walk out of the hospital the moment she showed signs of waking, not accepting the bigger picture.

Even if my mom had woken up, and started breathing on her own after three days, she still would have remained hospitalized. She has cancer. A full blown lung tumour. Let alone the part where her heart gave out. They would keep her around for observation while they looked into everything. But she wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of her finances, it would lean on someone else anyways.

But facts are, she’s not awake and her benefits run out next Monday. These are things that need to be taken care of now.

But no, they attack me, say I’m not focusing enough on my mom. But this is me focusing on my mom. This is me finding an outlet for the grief. Instead of standing around doing nothing, waiting for answers, I am finding goals that help her in whatever state she is or will be when this is all over.

And on top of that, they want to sever me from my support. They don’t want the one person giving a shit about me and understanding me in this to be around anymore. They think they know what’s best for me, but they don’t even know me.

I was so distraught by what they were doing that when I even started to give in just to make the pain of it stop, and my Aunt came at me for a hug, I squealed in anguish and crumpled in on myself yelling at her not to touch me. I was racked with fear and trembled anxiously for 5-10 minutes on the floor, hiding behind my chair.

I hate what this stress is doing to my sanity. I don’t feel real anymore. I don’t feel like a human roaming these halls. It’s becoming a blur of nothing and hopelessness with every unanswered question. Even when I sleep, I feel nothing, and like it’s made no difference when I wake.

 ~*~25th 1pm

They started bringing her off sedation again, and now it’s just a waiting game. I’m going to stay through the night so if she wakes, she won’t be alone.

Carolann and Auntie Darla came in today and my cousin and I finally started on my mother’s nails. It’s nice to see them clean and blood free for the first time since this began. We tried to get some colour on there, but it didn’t dry fast enough and got ruined by nurses moving her around. Maybe I’ll try again later. It feels wrong that they aren’t work ready and vibrant how she always kept them.

 ~*~26th 12:30am

I went for a walk around the hospital to ease my troubled mind, that and they were changing her bedding for her so we were kicked out.

I found a meditation circle around the side of the building with a small stone in the center. It had the word hope painted on it in yellow over a half sun.

I sat there for over an hour listening to music fighting back tears just trying to wrap my head around it all. It was peaceful where my mind wasn't. If all the noise in my head could have filled the silent night, it would have been deafening.

 ~*~26th 3:30am

I just switched out with John. I can’t keep my eyes open much longer. I hope I don’t miss her.

 ~*~27th 11am

Every day there is a small bazaar that pops up at the hospital, different knick knacks and jewelry. As if buying these random things will help us feel better somehow. I bought a ring, thinking of mom. I feel bad that I've bought this ring as a token to remember her by. To remind myself of this moment, of this suffering, so I can look at it and be forever reminded of what's taking place right now. But I feel like I need it, and I hate that that's where my mind is going when she's right upstairs. But truth be told, I know. I know that this only ends one way: badly.

 ~*~28th 8:45am

She's gone.

I don't feel human. I feel empty. Hollow. Listless. And yet I'm a ball of unrelenting energy unable to stop moving, fidgeting, calling, texting, needing that thing to keep me from thinking, from staying in the moment and being washed away by the tears that would surely drown me.

I felt like before, I was racing time, but now I feel like I'm swimming against the tide trying to sweep me away from her, but the water is too strong, and I can’t fight it anymore.

 ~*~28th 3pm - Facebook Post

For those who knew, my mother has been battling an unknown illness for a few months now. A week ago she entered St. Catherine's General for a routine test, and today, she is gone.

I don't even know where to begin in describing how I feel, how much I feel the loss. Only that I feel stripped of a major part of myself. Despite everything we put each other through, she was my mother. She was a main influence in everything I do and everything I am, and I will miss her every day. 

 ~*~ Oct 3rd, 2017 -  2pm - My Eulogy

Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love that you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in the hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go. - Jamie Anderson

Over the past two weeks, that quote couldn’t have rung truer in me. Sitting next to my mom feeling everything welling in me, and nowhere for it to go. Where everyone else’s feelings poured from them, special times to reminisce, memories once thought forgotten, even just a daily report to give to keep from silence, I could never find the words. And now that I finally have them, they sit heavy with regret in my chest.

For every whispered ‘goodbye’, was a masked ‘don’t leave me’, for every ‘I love you’, ‘I need you’, and for every moment of stunned silence were a thousand things I wish I’d said in its place.

To say she will be missed would be a lie. Because, the depth of which she touched people’s lives goes so much deeper. She will be mourned, and at times ached for with so much severity we can no longer draw in a breath to fill the void that she has left in us.

Over time, the pain may lessen, breathing come easier, and with each other we can fill the void again. Tell her stories, remember her jokes, and share the times that made her who she was to us.

So I will not miss her, but will look for her, and search her out in all of you, piece by piece.

~*~

 This was more than difficult to post. Two years of indecision. Two years of pain I kept to myself until it nearly drove me mad. Everything written was as it happened and as I felt it, and kept locked in a google document I never thought I would let see the light of day.

[clonerightsagenda]

TLC DVD commentary: Finishing up

Oh boy, the Dave dysfunction junction. I reread this so many times while doing revisions that trying to read it now gives me a headache, but there’s plenty of general comments to make here.

This is another one Skiba helped me with, bc I was new at this and struggling. These days I'm much more confident - I'll probably touch it up when I do the DC, since I was never entirely happy with it, or maybe that was my soul protesting devoting 16 pages to Strider drama. I’d have to go through carefully to remember which bits are mine and which are his, but the ‘pasted together with mansweat’ is definitely his. I don’t think I’ve ever used ‘mansweat’ in my life. Good word tho.

This conversation was inevitable - in Homestuck if there are two versions of someone they'll get into a fight, because why wouldn't they? We all have things we dislike about ourselves. We don't want those rubbed in our face. Dave's denial of time travel is a perfect catalyst, because Davesprite has internalized his "role" so hard he can't imagine someone denying it. Neither can full conceive of a use of time powers beyond the 'generating doomed doubles' thing because they were raised by a Prince of Heart and learned self-destruction. 

This is also a big culmination of the depersonalization Dave learned as a self-defense mechanism. He tries to act like his dead doomed selves mean nothing to him, because if he didn't, that would psychologically destroy you very quickly. And that works for a while, but once you *become* one of those selves, then that's turned on you. He's also developed some survivor's guilt that he diverts into paranoia (if he feels guilty that they died and he didn't, then they must hate him for it, therefore they are an Enemy) which fuels this argument even more. 

The real villain here, naturally, is the alpha timeline. Dave sees it as a trap. Davesprite sees it as validation. What it really is is a system set up by Lord English to profit himself and no one else. In canon, Dave complains that LE isn't a good villain because it's ambiguous how he ever hurt them. The story never does a great job of emphasizing how he has really hurt them at every turn, forcing them into situations and punishing harmless choices that simply didn't serve his agenda. That’s why he’s the bad guy, even more than a few explosions out in space.

I like to think I write Dave and Davesprite differently enough that it's clear who's talking even without the appellation. I can certainly tell the difference (I have on occasion deleted a section of dialog I wrote for one of them because 'it sounds like the other one') but then I’m the writer. Mostly those differences stem from different attitudes, but this conversation is a good example of a more surface-level difference I implemented. If I come up with a good piece of figurative language I'm going to use it no matter what, but in general, I key the similes and metaphors they use after the people they've been spending time with. Dave is more likely to use literary allusions (Rose) or crude bodily comments (Karkat), while Davesprite is more likely to use science (Jade) or tv/film references (John). (As a side note, I observed that in canon Dave is more likely to use film references when talking to John, so both are more likely to use them when talking to or about him in TLC.) Dave also occasionally uses a bit of legalese (Terezi), and Davesprite does it once or twice after BAA, although he gets real pissed when he notices.

God these early pages are just littered with errors from that old gif-making method. Plenty to fix in the DC. That being said, Dave getting punched so hard his shirt freaks out is p funny and may need to be preserved just because. I actually had them both scuffling a little, but the beta reader switched it up to just be Ds decking Dave, which I think worked out. They're both so surprised that he actually did it that things settle down pretty quickly rather than escalating.

Page 94 is a reference to the 'Karkat is too upset to be rendered in a less shitty manner’ panel.

I actually think it's interesting to explore Davesprite as the aftermath of the heroic sacrifice trope. Because you're supposed to die, but you died doing something useful, so you get lauded for it afterward. But when you make that sacrifice and you *don't* die... there's no room for you in the story anymore. You can only ride on those laurels for so long, and then you start wondering what the point of you is. I tend to think the heroic sacrifice trope is kinda fucked, especially with children, which I’ve talked about before so this lets me explore how toxic that mentality can be.

I sort of touched on this in a recent post - a tuesjade I think - but you can look at that with a lot of the kids. John is the archetypal pure hearted hero... who only manages to maintain that genre-typical innocence and optimism because he’s repressed everything else. Dave is the reluctant hero who ends up finding far more happiness in being part of a team rather than being the solo figure saving the day. Jade starts out as the ‘wise sage’ figure but is repeatedly cut down to size and has her dreams ruthlessly crushed by the canon narrative anyway, and Skaia was only showing her what it wanted to in order to guide her choices. She didn’t have a “special connection” as much as she was a pawn. And Rose is the one who looks at the fairy kingdom and the animals who want to crown her queen and instead joins up with the white witch, without even being offered candy as a bribe. And you know what? I think she was right.

p 96 Gill was in a print making class doing engravings that semester lmao

I was going to just cover this bit for this post, but there are only a few more pages before I get to the bucket death, so we might as well keep going. 

JOHN: kissing a dead person was weird, but it wasn't that bad. JOHN: i think kissing an alive person might be weirder. ROSE: Really, now? JOHN: wait, was that a weird thing to say? JOHN: i meant because then they'd be awake and expecting stuff and... JOHN: forget it, let's go back to talking about jack.

Technically aro/ace John would be indirectly violating our neither promote nor prevent shipping policy. I at least attempt to maintain this policy, as this is management 101. If you follow policy, you can point to it as justification when some angry person shows up in your inbox. Of course I am only half the team and can only sigh meaningfully when Gill over there is like ‘so Dirk and Jake are gonna hold hands for an entire scene’. I sigh meaningfully so often that she probably thinks we have a gas leak. Anyway because of policy it's not explicit but it does impact how I interpret and write him, so it's kinda there. Nothing binding though.

It wasn't intentional, but it's fitting that John (Breath player, aspect of freedom) ends up freeing both mind-controlled girls, even if it was done unintentionally. Breath doesn't like to be constrained.

And we're done with the requested segment!

[ellawritesficssometimes]

My Save Year -USUK (ch. 3)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12554533/1/My-Save-Year

Two days later…

Monday:

I was sitting at the front desk in the library, pawing through a files folder as I balanced a corded phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Yes, everything is fine," I sighed, annoyed at having to repeat myself. "I'm starting my third week here already. You know me, I've already developed a daily routine. I feel comfortable now. Hell, I'm so busy, I don't even feel stress anymore. I can't afford to."

Coping by using sarcastic puns? Check.

Midterms were around the corner, so most of my time was spent preparing for them well in advance. Grades were how I proved my self-worth, not to others, but to myself. I had nothing else going for me but my smarts.

"That's good to hear," Alistair grunted on the other end of the phone. "Even so, I just wanted to check in with ye again. Have ye made any new friends? Are ye eating properly? And don't ye dare lie to me, Artie. Ye ken full well that I'll come down there to romp yer skinny little arse if ye are."

I smirked and closed the files drawer shut. It emitted a satisfactory metallic thud.

I spun in my swivel chair and pushed off towards the desk part of the station so that I could smugly drum my fingers against the wooden surface.

"Actually, I have. Five total. Well," I corrected myself. "Three of them are more like acquaintances that I just so happen to share classes with. As for food? I've been trying, really I have. My roommate is even more ruthless than you are, like a hawk. He's resorted to force-feeding me because of my apparent lack in key nutrients."

Alistair laughed gruffly. "And here ye were at the beginning of the year, bitchin' and whining about having ta share a room with someone. It looks like it did ye a lotta good. I'm glad…and surprised. Since when has my wee little brother been so popular? I'm impressed. Nae, I'm proud and impressed."

I faltered. "The people here are…surprisingly nice. It's not like back home, where people's brains are even smaller than the limited geography. I've also noticed that, ah, there's a lot of diversity amongst the writers here, and I'm not just saying this because it's an international academy," I stumbled awkwardly.

Thankfully, Alistair knew how to address the subject without either skirting around it or directly addressing it. I flustered easily; he knew my boundaries of what I was okay with discussing.

"Artists are like tha'. Yer all either depressed, gay, lonely, bitter, or all four. Oops, looks like I just came up with half of yer biography," Alistair teased before changing the subject. "So, have you written anythin' lately? You haven't sent me somethin' for quite a while now."

Alistair was the supportive mother figure in my life. He overcompensated in our true mother's footsteps by taking interest in my hobbies. I only ever trusted Alistair to read my writing.

"Ha ha, very funny," I replied dryly. "Hmmm. I'll send you something soon. I have many assignments due in the coming weeks. I could always use another set of eyes to catch any mistakes."

"Yep."

"How are things in Scotland?" I asked.

"Good, could be better. My flat isna the best, but I'm making do. Mum called yesterday by the way…"

"Oh?" My stomach sank.

"She asked me to tell ye somethin'."

I didn't say anything, which prompted Alistair to tell me anyway.

"She asked me if yer coming back for Christmas… ye don't have to, though!" he blurted out. "I'd understand if ye didn't want to. Artie, I already told em' that you'd be coming home to my place for the holidays. That's the plan. It's up to ye if ye to change or stick with it."

I grit my teeth, swallowing sourly. "That's rich," I snorted bitterly. "You can tell her to fuck right off, along with the rest of them. They just don't want to look bad when I'm not there in front of the other relatives. I'm not going, not again. I don't want to go back, and no amount of guilt-tripping will ever make me. What nerve they have, honestly."

There went my relatively good mood.

My family may not have been physically abuse, but the belittling and constantly critical atmosphere was toxic for me. There were all just so passive-aggressive, it would drive anyone in my position insane. My other brothers would always hip-check me if I was in the way and would also make snide comments when I wasn't around. Mum was miserable, and Dad was just an angry bigot not even worthy of a description.

They didn't want me there, and I was sick of them pretending that they had accepted me for who I was. I haven't forgiven them, especially for the stairs incident with Patrick…

I'll repeat myself again: I wasn't going back. They had already done enough damage.

"I thought ye would say that," Alistair sadly stated. "Don't get me wrong, ye have every right to feel that way. I wasn't keen on going either if I'm to be perfectly honest. I'll make sure to relay the message for ye. No need to cause any more fights."

"Good, because I was definitely looking forward to us attempting to cook, only to give in after almost burning down the building and ordering take-out as a consolation meal," I mused, intending to lighten the mood. It worked.

After that, the conversation shifted to more trivial topics. I elaborated on school, my job, the many ghosts, as well as how strange the entire campus made me feel. I didn't mention the library's rooftop; I hadn't thought of it as very important.

My break was over quicker than expected, and I had to hang-up. It was odd how lenient and patient Alistair was being with me, as opposed to his usual stubborn, worry-wart self. I soon understood why he was acting as such when he said his goodbyes.

"I haven't heard ye be this happy in a while, Artie. I don't ken what's happening there, but I sure do hope that it keeps up. Take care, lad. And don't forget to call me, more than just one day a week if ye can. I'm always available when it comes to yer well-being, just make sure to keep the time in mind if ye do happen to catch me by surprise. Anyways, I have stuff to do, so I should probably let ye go. Best of luck on your midterms. Oh, and I love ye, very much, ye snobby brat."

I smiled. "I love you too, you hard-headed oaf," I retorted. "I'll speak to you again soon."

"Wha-?! Did you just say it back? Who are ye and what did you do with my bro–!"

Shocked, I hung up the phone.

"What in the bloody fuck was that?" I asked myself, feeling my face heat. The last time I had said something like that to him, I was no older than eight. My God, this school was turning me into such a sap.

No matter, I still had work to do. We had just gotten a whole new edition of textbooks to register into stock from the history section. Straightening both my blouse and posture, I set out to do just that.

It was four PM when Matthew came back from his last class of the day. My classes on Monday ended at noon, so I covered the middle shift. Technically, I was only hired to work on weekends, but I was slightly behind on my work as an assistant, so the administrators let me do an extra shift here and there to make up for it. The campus was privately run, so funding and payroll was never an issue.

Besides, the amount of books and files I had to keep track of was insane, near impossible even. I was also in the library most days, save for this weekend as a minor exception. I think you know why, but we'll get into that later.

I wasn't surprised to see Matthew carrying a platter of sandwiches in his hands. "Feeding time again?" I joked. I still found this whole situation ridiculous. It just didn't make any sense to me. A spirit eating food? I had never heard of something so preposterous.

"Oui, ah, yes," Matthew stuttered. "Egg salad is never a favourite in the staff room. I figured I wouldn't let them go to waste."

Matthew opened the plastic wrap covering the platter, offering me a sandwich. "They're pretty awful, but knowing you, you've only had breakfast today, huh?"

The Canadian knew me well. I didn't have a very large appetite, anxious or not. I either ate a lot or didn't eat at all, there was no in between. Although, the reminders I had set on my phone have helped. Throughout the day, I had many snacks, but none of them were meals – the downside of being dirt poor.

I accepted the sandwich, smiling politely as I took a small bite from it. "I don't see anything wrong with it," I shrugged.

"It's plain and processed," Matthew deadpanned. "I swear, you have such a strange taste in food. You'll eat anything, just like the ghost. Speaking of which, have you had a chance to look at the camera footage?" he asked, noting my disheartened expression. "Spooky, right?"

"Something's definitely funny about it," I replied. "Perhaps it's just the lighting, an optical illusion that makes it look like the food is disappearing. The cameras are old too. I still stand by my theory that a student is taking advantage of the free food."

Sue me, I was lying through my teeth. I didn't want many people to know about my abilities. Francis knew, and that was more than enough. Thing is, when I looked at previous camera footage, the food didn't just disappear. A dark and shaded pixelated spirit was in fact taking the food. It's just a pity I wasn't there to actually witness this, since the camera didn't possess the same sight as I did.

"Arthur," Matthew rolled his eyes. This was something we often bickered about now. "My family's been doing this for decades. There's a spirit here, many of them, but this one has the most personality. Keep denying the obvious if you want, but this library is very clearly haunted. Now, if you excuse me, I have a real-life ghost to feed. If I take too long, sometimes it gets impatient and knocks over books. One time it knocked over an entire shelf."

"Mhmm, sure," I hummed dismissively, a playful light in my eyes. "You keep telling yourself that."

"I will," Matthew huffed.

"Good."

"Bien."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Hitting your head on Friday must have made you even stubborner. As if it wasn't already hard enough to get through to you," Matthew shook his head in disbelief.

The bruise at the back of my head throbbed a little at the reminder. I told Matthew that I had taken a bad fall on Friday, not wanting him to worry about me too much. Francis already did enough of that. I couldn't walk two feet without the Frenchman offering to hold my arm in support.

I had a minor concussion, that's it. Waking me up every hour of the night was more than unnecessary. Stupid patronizing frog. Don't even get me started on refusing to report the incident to campus security…

"Perhaps it did. I wouldn't know," I shrugged, prompting Matthew to leave with a thoroughly 'done' expression on his face.

When Matthew was out of sight, I rolled my chair over to the computer and opened the camera feed. I clicked on the specific one that surveyed the fiction section on the fifth floor. The food was always placed on the study tables there.

I spied on the Canadian, watching him place the sandwich platter in its usual spot. I shamelessly flipped through cameras, making sure that he was far out of hearing distance before I put my plan into motion.

I was going to stake out the spirit. I had done enough readings over the weekend to spare myself some extra time. I also may or may not have refused to leave my dorm room because of Friday's incident. All right, I did.

I had avoided visiting the rooftop because I didn't want to see Alfred. Now that he knew who I was, I couldn't bear to face him again. I didn't want his pity, nor did I want myself to believe that we could become chatting partners again.

He'd seen me in a very sorry, very pitiful state. I just knew that he would never look at me the same if we saw each other again. The problem was, I needed to investigate that rooftop, but he was always there. This mess just made everything more complicated than it needed to be. It was also bizarre how Alfred had just left without another word, but then again, I wasn't going to complain.

Moving on.

Hopefully, this stake out would answer most of my questions. I had very little patience monitoring the cameras; this plan was my only way of physically seeing the spirit, rather than just a fuzzy, pixelated blob on a screen.

Forget waiting, I wanted to know what it was. The uneasy feeling I got whenever I came here was beginning to drive me mad, like a pestering fly that wouldn't stop buzzing in your ear.

And so, that's how I found myself squatted behind a bookcase, phone digging into my hips due to the tight jeans I was wearing. I eyed the food platter, devotedly intending to stay for hours on end if I had to.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," I muttered to myself. "I won't hurt you, I promise. If anything, I just want to help. And here I thought I was stubborn…"

One hour later.

"Oh for fuck's sakes, I'm not going to bite."

Two hours later.

I stretched my back and neck, shifting my position into something more comfortable. I was leaning against the bookshelf now, occasionally looking over my shoulder, only to come up disappointed with the view of the still empty study area.

I was so used to the quiet that when my phone buzzed, I gave a sharp yelp in response.

Turns out, it was just Francis wanting to know if I had started plotting out my Creating Writing assignment. Our Russian professor, an alumnus at the school, was back to teaching here again. Apparently, we were immensely lucky to have him, since he didn't like staying at the campus for more than a year.

Lucky my arse. We had a 20,000 word one-shot due at the end of each month. The professor was out of his bloody mind! It was only a matter of time before I burnt out – a person only had so much creativity and sanity in them, after all.

I couldn't be bothered to answer Francis. I would do so later if I remembered to, which wasn't very likely if I'm to be perfectly honest. It got to the point where I had to turn off my phone to prevent him from blowing up my inbox. God, was he ever insufferable.

The time I spent waiting had almost passed the three-hour mark when a distinct creak and subsequent thud echoed across the area. Immediately, I turned around, eyes locked on the nearest study table.

"Easy does it," I mouthed. "I just want to see who or what you are…"

"Whatcha lookin' at?"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST?!" I screamed, jolting upwards only to bang my head on the bookshelf.

My vision blacked out briefly as I reached out to cup the back of my now much sorer head. My vision swam, blurry, before focusing on a startled pair of blue eyes and shiny spectacles, glowing from the fluorescent lights above.

"A-Artie?" Alfred crouched down. "I'm sorry if I startled ya. It's just, I haven't heard from you since, well, you know… I thought I would find you myself. You did mention that you worked and studied here."

"I did, did I?" I groaned, glaring at him through tears. "Couldn't you have found me like a normal person, and oh, I don't know, not sneak up on me?"

Alfred didn't say anything. He looked like he wanted to reach out to see if I was okay, but given my short temper, he knew better not to.

"Stop looking at me like that, I'll be fine. And it's Arthur!" I blurted out. "How many times do I have to tell you that?… Fuck it, I don't even care. I-I should probably get going now." I stood up abruptly, wanting to get out of here as fast as possible.

"Arthur, wait!" Alfred called out when I turned my back on him.

Hesitantly, I turned around, defensive scowl already in place. My eyes bugged out as I took in his hulking height. He was several inches taller than me, albeit lanky. Of course, he was still wearing the same brown bomber jacket and folded jeans, blond hair stuck up in a messy muss. In his right hand, he gripped onto his notebook, and on his back, he was one-strapping a brown leather rucksack.

"What?" I wavered, shy to establish direct eye contact for too long.

"I'm, ah, sorry that I left you hanging like that. I panicked and didn't know what to do. It's why I went running off to find someone else to help out…"

"You found my roommate. I hate my roommate," I sarcastically spat.

Alfred nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. I didn't know. He seemed nice enough, I guess," I trailed off.

"Is that all? I have to be somewhere."

"Don't lie to me, Arthur. I haven't known you all that long, and yet I can still tell when you're lying. You wear your emotions on your face. You don't just look troubled now. You look embarrassed and I'm here to tell you that you shouldn't. Is that why you haven't come on the roof these past few days? Because you thought I wouldn't accept you for who you are?"

"…Can you blame me?" I whispered, throat constricting. "You saw what they did, what they said. It's repulsive. I'm repulsive…"

"BULLSHIT!" Alfred exploded. When I flinched, he lowered his voice. "That's total bullshit, you hear me?! Don't say such things like that. It only gives those assholes free reign to do whatever the hell they want! You're better than that!"

I inched away from Alfred, hurt crossing over my expression. "Look, if you came here to yell at me, then you may as well just leave. I don't need this right now."

"Arthur," Alfred repeated. "Look man, I'm trying," he paused, taking a deep breath. "I want to be your friend, I really do. It's just hard standing here watching you beat yourself up like this. It's not right.

"Thing is, my anxiety does this weird thing where when I see someone in a similar position to me, I become strong and confident all of a sudden. My sister calls it this 'hero' persona. I don't really care… I'm not trying to be your hero, but I can't just stand around either. I came to talk to you."

I sighed. So that's why he was here. He was pushing aside his shyness to see if I was okay. Sweet, but unnecessary. A waste of his time if you ask me. "You don't have to, I'm fine."

"You weren't fine when I found you that night," Alfred interrupted. "Did you call campus security on those bozos? Maybe there was a camera that caught their faces. They deserve to expelled for what they did, a rotten bunch if I've ever seen one," he seethed.

"I didn't call anyone. I just want it to be done and over with. What happened, happened," I remarked curtly.

Alfred's jaw dropped. "You're not going to try and find them?"

"I just said that, didn't I?"

"But you can't! It's not right!"

"Perhaps, but it's what I want."

Alfred's shoulders slumped. "I can't believe it. I mean, if it's what you really want, fine. It's not what I would do, and it makes me really angry that those criminals are going to get away with something like this... still, I can't force you to do something you don't wanna do."

I looked at the ground, unsure of myself. "Was that all you came here for?"

"No, you invited me to join you in the library sometime, remember? I'm taking you up on that offer. Call me old-fashioned, but I don't have a phone, so this was my only way of finding you. I also, um, want to tell you something," Alfred admitted.

I shrugged. I was too tired and flustered to argue. A seat sounded nice. "All right, I don't see why not."

We sat at a study table, across from one another. Alfred had to pull out his chair as his legs were too long to fit underneath. He kept fidgeting, with both his hands and his feet. The way he clicked his ankle was annoying, but I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. He was pushing himself out of his comfort zone, for me. He was reaching out – who was I to discourage him from doing so with some useless, petty comment?

After some time, Alfred looked up, smiling out of nervousness. "What you said earlier really bothered me, ya know that? You shouldn't have to feel ashamed of yourself. Do you think I'm repulsive?"

"Of course I don't think you're repulsive!" I snapped. "Why would you say such a thing?"

Alfred gave me a blank stare. "I could say the same thing to you. Don't you get it? No one should ever say such horrible things about themselves because once you say it, you really believe it, and it's not true, okay?!" he breathed deeply, calming himself.

"Let me rephrase myself, dude," Alfred continued. "Would you call me repulsive if you knew that I liked guys too?"

"Y-you do?" I asked, lips trembling. My ears buzzed, unable to process this information.

"Yes, I do. Gals as well. Now answer my question."

"I don't have to rephrase anything," I answered. "I've never thought of you as repulsive. I judge people by character. You haven't given me a reason to think that, so no, I don't find you repulsive."

"Why can't you apply that same logic to yourself then? If you call yourself repulsive for being gay, or at least liking boys, then I want you to look me in the eye and call me repulsive too. Go on, do it."

"I…can't."

"Why not? Do it! If it's so easy to say it to yourself, then say it to me!"

"I don't want to!"

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anyone to ever have to experience what I have!" I croaked.

"Then why beat yourself up, Arthur? Don't become another bully, to yourself nonetheless. I'm not going to lie and tell you that this world and that you yourself are perfect. But that doesn't give you a reason to hate everything either! You're not repulsive, it's how you think that's repulsive! Don't become like those bigots! It'll only make them win!"

I raked a shaky hand through my hair, fisting it. "I-I…don't think you're repulsive."

"I know, but you need to know that you're not either," Alfred said softly, cerulean eyes possessing an indescribable wisdom to them.

"Damn it," I sniffed, wiping at my eyes before tears could spill. "I know I'm not repulsive, but I can't help but believe it sometimes."

"Love and being yourself is never repulsive, as long as it doesn't harm others. My Ma and Pops didn't understand that, but my, ah, sis does. I grew up in the South. My family, they're really religious. For so long, I had to hide who I was. I had crushes on both boys and girls, but could only date girls. At least, not in public. What I'm trying to say is that it's not worth hating what you can't change. There'll always be support, and there'll sometimes be backlash. It doesn't mean you have to accept it or that it's right. Society sucks, but it doesn't mean you have to believe that you suck too. Gosh, that sounded really dirty," he finished, smiling nervously.

"That must have been tough. I can't even bear to imagine it," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, I didn't live there all the time. My twin, Amelia – I think I told you about her – anyways, Amy and I went to boarding school in New York. We grew up in a pretty progressive area. It was there that I found out more about myself. I met a guy…"

Alfred's eyes widened in pain. I didn't know whether to stop him or let him continue.

I resorted to the latter in fear of scaring Alfred away.

"We really, really liked each other. It's just hard when you're forced to be afraid of loving someone. It really got to me. When I close my eyes I can still imagine how pretty his eyes were, a rare, indescribable violet. He was always so worried about what other people thought... he stood me up because of the rumours going around about us. Afterwards, all I could do was blame and hate myself.

"It's not worth it, Arthur. It really isn't. I learned that the hard way. Either way, I still had that experience, horrible as it was. But you know what? At least I got to do what I wanted to without having what others thought about us hold me back."

"I'm so sorry," I said hesitantly.

"Don't be. The point I'm trying to get across is that it's pointless to regret things, especially something unchangeable like your sexuality. Heck, if I don't know how hard it can get at times. I've only ever wanted things to get better. Moving here, it was a fresh start, even if I had to leave my only support system behind. But now I have you, huh? So how about you start seeing yourself like I do: a normal guy who's too hard on himself."

I nodded. "This was…too sweet for words, Alfred. You didn't have to tell me all that, but I appreciate it. You're right, about everything. And yes, you have me now. I consider you as my friend."

"No, no I did. I didn't just want to tell you this, I had to," Alfred said, taking off his glasses. I let out a sharp intake of breath when I saw that he was crying. "Back then, I grew tired of hating myself, for thinking that I would never be happy. Seeing you feel the same way now, it just breaks my heart. No one deserves this. You can't help it, all right? Things may never turn out in your favor, but don't you ever give up. You will find that someone who will accept you for you, it just may take some time. But once you do find that someone, the rest of the world don't matter after that."

"Crap," he whimpered. "I was the one supposed to be cheering you up. Some friend I am. I wanted to make you feel better."

"Hey," I chided, reaching into my pocket to pull out a wad of tissues. "You sound like you've had it much worse than I have. And don't be silly, you did make me feel better. It's reassuring that we have so much in common, truly it is. Please, don't cry. We both can't be messes, now can we?"

I reached over to hand Alfred a tissue, backing away slightly as he looked uncomfortable with getting so close. He accepted the tissue gratefully, blowing the tip of his nose, which was now quite red.

"I can't promise you that I won't think like this, but what I can guarantee is that I'll try not to. Like I've told you before, it'll take time to re-wire years of negativity. Now come on, smile for me," I felt my heart skip a beat. Where was this coming from?

"You cheered me up, now it's my turn. Where's that dopey, grinning smile, you yank? The smile that can brighten just about anything? How about this, I'll go get us some hot chocolate from the staff room, and when I come back, we can do our work together? You know I won't talk, so you don't have to worry about me messing up your writing mojo."

Alfred looked up at me, incredulous before a wisp of a grin began to creep onto his face. "That sounds awesome! I would love that. Thanks man, you're the best!"

"I should be thanking you," I corrected. It was almost adorable how excited he was. Who knows how long it's been since he's been able to share a moment like this. To me it was just a warm drink, but to Alfred, it was a chance to enjoy himself with someone who accepted his quirks, someone he felt he could be himself with.

We were both overcompensating, trying to make the other feel better…

We both knew what it felt like to be unhappy with ourselves.

Just as I was about to leave, Alfred surprised me once again in a brief, but still ever meaningful display of braveness. It was a simple gesture, but to him, it meant so much more than that.

"Arthur, I never got to introduce myself properly. I-I think I would like to do that now," he flushed, cheeks pink.

"What?"

Alfred held out his hand. "Don't make this awkward, dude. I want to shake hands with you."

"Oh…" My stomach flopped. "Yes, yes, of course. Are you… are you sure you want to though?"

"Yeah man. I trust you completely."

"Very well. Nice to meet you, Alfred Jones," I reached out for Alfred's hand, slowly, waiting for him to grab my hand first.

In reciprocation, Alfred reached over the table, shaking slightly. With a determined huff, he clasped his tanned hand around mine, swallowing it. His hands were that of a bear's, or, at least pretty close to it.

"The pleasure's all mine, Kirkland," Alfred grinned, revealing a heart-warming smile that showed off all his teeth. I had to look away in fear of getting both blinded and embarrassed. He had a way of looking at someone that just made them feel so special. What did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful expression from him?

Alfred gave my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, breathing out with a shudder. "Wasn't so bad."

I gave him a blank stare.

"I'm talking about my shyness!"

"I know," I mused. "It's just fun to get you worked up."

"Hey!"

I stood up and turned my back on him, grinning the entire trip down to the staff room on the first floor.

When I came back, Alfred and I sipped our warm beverages in a comfortable silence. He wrote down ideas in his notebook, tongue wagging out as he did, and I picked out a random book to read.

Occasionally, he would look up at me and grin like a total goofball. Still, it was hard not to smile back. When he was in a good mood, it was contagious. He radiated, a glow of comfortability surrounding him, protecting him.

I too would find myself staring at him, only to look away when we established eye contact. It was thrilling, watching the way how he pouted his lips in thought, long lashes feathering his strong cheekbones.

He was beautiful.

I was beginning to fall in love with Alfred Jones. Too bad I absolutely couldn't let that happen.

…

The next day

…

I was attending a Creative Writing lecture, or, what remained of it. Prof. Braginski was going through the syllabus again to explain a specific assignment due at the end of the month. However, he couldn't get through one sentence without being interrupted by loud bangs from either the auditorium's ceiling or the walls.

Prof. Braginski cleared his throat, trying not to look frazzled as he adjusted the white scarf wrapped around his neck. The man was in his mid- fifties, a hulking giant with pale blond hair, indigo-almost-purple eyes, and a strong nose.

"Ahem, as I was saying, you will all have a 20,000 word one-shot due at the end of each month. This month's theme is something that inspires you. Whether it be friends, family or the heavily-used cliché theme of love–"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Lovino, Gilbert, and Antonio jumped slightly, sitting to my right, as did the rest of the class save for Francis and myself. Unfortunately, the Frog realized that night classes weren't ideal if he wanted to go out with his friends, and ended up changing most of his classes to conveniently fit the same schedule as mine.

Prof. Braginski paused, waiting to see if there would be any other noise disruptions before continuing. The class was silent, unnerved by the persistent bangs echoing across the amphitheatre. Fifteen minutes passed since the lecture had first started, and yet, hardly anything had been discussed.

Francis – who was sitting by my left – and I exchanged wary looks as the professor began to appear more and more distressed. Rumour has it that he was an extreme introvert and didn't like staying at this university for long, despite having received an education here. Something traumatic happened here to him many years ago, and he only taught out of politeness, going against his wishes.

The hairs on the back of my neck pricked, a faint ringing sound bristling at the tips of my ears.

Something wasn't right. My stomach flopped with inexplicable feelings of anxiety, dread, and hurt. They seeped into my entire being, doing everything to make my mood miserable. Immediately, I recognized that this was all a spirit's doing.

Francis must have noticed this too because he kept clenching and unclenching his fists, rubbing his forehead frequently. Channelling these emotions was a common symptom for spiritual communicators. In fact, I could already feel the beginnings of a migraine form in my own head.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Prof. Braginski inhaled deeply, rustling the papers in front of him out of nervous habit. "Perhaps there is the construction going on? Leaky piping?" he proposed, slipping into broken English, his voice in an even thicker Russian accent than before.

"How can it be construction or leaky piping if the whole building is shaking?" Gilbert bent over to whisper to Antonio. "It feels like the entire roof is going to cave. And, I don't know about you, but I didn't see any cranes on my way here. Damn, I bet you anything this building is old enough to collapse on us at any given moment. Eh, at least I won't have exams to worry about," he teased nervously, using jokes to compensate for his own unease.

Antonio's eyes widened, just about breaking into tears. Lovino turned sharply and began to hiss at Gilbert for upsetting Antonio.

Another ten minutes passed before Prof. Braginski ended the class early, instructing us to check our emails tonight, as we would likely be changing lecture locations – again.

None of the students complained, eager to get out of class early. Meanwhile, Francis and I stayed back in solidarity, stiff in our seats.

Gilbert stood up, looping his backpack over his right shoulder. "Man, this is so awesome! Maybe if we're lucky, he'll cancel the whole class altogether. Free credits, am I right?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, taking a large chug from his coffee, needing the caffeine to be able to cope with the idiocy around him. "The amount of optimism in that statement is hopeless. Of course he's not going to cancel the class, you knuckle head."

Gilbert pouted.

Lovino faltered, nudging a frozen Antonio's shoulder like a prying mother. "Up you go, bastard. Class is over, didn't you hear?"

Numbly, Antonio stood on the promise that Gilbert and Lovino would take him to their favourite study room. Secretly, they all knew the campus was haunted, but didn't want to make the idea seem real. And so, the thought of ghosts haunting the classroom went largely unacknowledged.

Antonio, Gilbert, and Lovino began to pile down the aisles, only to turn back when they realized that Francis and I hadn't left our seats.

"Fran, aren't you coming?" Gilbert asked. He didn't bother to ask me. The four of them had no idea where I disappeared to after class, only knowing that I preferred being alone when I studied.

"Non, I'm going to stay here."

"With Arthur?" Antonio cocked his head to the side, incredulous.

"Oui, with Arthur. We, ah, both have a love for investigating things, isn't that right Arthur?" Francis mused, lightly elbowing me in the rib-cage.

It took a lot of willpower not to punch him in the throat. "Yes, that's right," I played along with the lie. "We're going to try and figure out the source of the noise. I'm sure there's a rational explanation for them. Honestly, you people always over-react and come to the most ridiculous conclusions."

Gilbert shrugged, adamant on leaving the classroom. He was still spooked by the wardrobe incident, even if I had ruled it off as something non-paranormally related. "Suit yourselves, weirdos. If you get murdered by Bloody Mary, Toni and I call dibs on your room. It's bigger."

"But of course. If that happens, I'll be expecting you three to plan my funeral and bury me in great fashion," Francis joked, grinning as the two friends and the other who denied being their friend but actually was left the auditorium.

As soon as we heard the front doors shut with a thud, we stood up from our seats and piled down to the podium at the front of the room.

I began to pace back and forth, closing my eyes, hoping to get any hints of the spirit residing here. Once again, I got nothing but the same emotions as before.

"A-ha! Got you!" Francis cackled, grabbing my shoulders out of nowhere.

"WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" I roared, jumping in fright. The Frog still hadn't learned his lesson from before, that ass.

Francis laughed and bent over to hold his knees, blond curls swinging. "Desole, I just had to. The look of constipation on your face was priceless," he said, straightening his posture. He then wiped a tear from his eye.

I glared at Francis, considering grabbing the meter stick by the front chalk board. There would soon be two ghosts here if he wasn't careful.

"No one asked you to stay back with me," I growled. "If you're going to be a cocky twat, then you may as well leave. I have a full schedule, one that doesn't involve putting up with your constant bullshit."

Acknowledging that he had pushed me too far, Francis raised both hands in surrender. "All right, all right, jokes aside, let's help this spirit. Although, I thought we were having a bonding moment. We both knew we would stay back without having to tell each other. It's adorable, non? How in tune we are with each other?"

"I'll repeat myself again, Frog. Focus, or stop wasting my time."

Francis's shoulders slumped, bored that he couldn't poke fun at me anymore. "Oui, oui, je sais," he muttered.

"Pardon our intrusion," I spoke up, "but, if there is anyone else here in this auditorium, please speak up. We are spiritual communicators and have no other intentions but to help you cross over to the other side. You don't have to be afraid that we can see you. I assure you, we mean no harm."

"What he said," Francis purred. "I can sense much stress and fear from you. Let us make it all go away."

"What are you, a spiritual prostitute?" I snorted. "You sound like you're trying to seduce it into bed."

"Am not!" Francis gasped.

"Are too!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The ceiling shuddered and creaked.

"Hello?" I whispered, a bit frightened from how violent the sound was. "I'm sorry for my friend, truly I am. He's a good guy once you get around his ring of obnoxiousness. I won't argue with you like I do with him, promise."

"You're such a miserable grouch, mon dieu! I'm half convinced you're possessed by a bitter 80 year-old-man," Francis growled, walking up to me, a sneer on his usually languid, dreamy face.

Even though we were the same height, I straightened my shoulders and jabbed an angry index finger at him. "Now you listen here! Just because I'm not letting you waltz right into my life with opened legs, doesn't mean you have to be so immature about it. I told you this from the beginning. I'm an asshole. Stop pointing out the obvious, and let's just get this over with, Christ! Either deal with me or leave! I won't repeat myself again!"

"Ohonhonhon!" Francis cracked up, a pervy expression on his face. "Open legs, huh? What an interesting choice of words."

"It's a saying, you tart. No need to get literal!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Oh look, you made it angry."

"Moi? I did no such thing!"

Francis and I both fell silent when the sound of heavy footsteps pattered against the back of the auditorium. No one was there when we looked over our shoulders, however.

"What in the-?" I spluttered. "I'm starting to think we're dealing with a poltergeist. It's the only explanation. It's likely just messing with us."

I'M SORRY! PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME!

A voice, unmatchable to anything I've ever heard before, screamed in my mind. Judging by Francis's equally petrified and intrigued expression he had heard it too.

"Q-quoi? We're not leaving, we're right here?"

"Idiot, this place isn't being haunted by an active ghost," I concluded, all of the pieces fitting together. "It's a memory. Something here must have triggered it into existence again. The bangs will stop eventually, there's nothing more we can do."

"Ah… I see now." Francis hummed in understanding.

When a person died, fragments of memories often spread and attached themselves to objects or places meaningful to them. Someone here must have triggered the memory by thinking or saying something, likely on accident. I'd give it a couple days before the memory faded away again.

The problem was, despite the lingering memory, I had no idea if the actual spirit had passed on or not. Spirits lived in different planes of existence. Most times, they didn't realize they were dead and lived their lives normally, creating sounds that those alive would consider to be a haunting. This occurrence, however, was just a memory replaying itself. It wasn't the spirit themself.

Just as Francis and I prepared to leave, Gilbert, Antonio, and Lovino poked their heads into the classroom. I deadpanned upon realizing they had been standing outside in the hallway this entire time.

How much did they know?

"So…" Gilbert drawled, stumbling into the auditorium again, red eyes wide in apprehension. "What the hell just happened?" he put ever so eloquently.

Francis and I glanced at each other, not wanting to reveal too much. You never knew how someone would react to this kind of news. It was the bad, ostracizing reactions that prevents us communicators from telling people about our abilities.

Antonio ended it all by bluntly blurting out what the other two were thinking. "You guys can speak to ghosts? Ay! That would make a lot of sense. I knew you saw something in that wardrobe, Arturo!"

"I sure did," I muttered to myself, solemn at the thought.

"Honestly, what the fuck is even happening anymore?" Lovino followed Antonio and Gilbert into the auditorium, still hesitant as the bangs quieted, but didn't exactly stop.

"Oui," Francis stepped in, since it was obvious I wasn't going to say anything. "We are known as spiritual communicators, or mediums to put it more simply. There is no reason to worry. There are no spirits in this room."

"Ja, we heard. You said something about a memory. Anyway, I'm freaked the shit out, but also strangely excited?" Gilbert grinned. "Why did you bozos hide this from us? You're like real life ghostbusters!"

"Because normally when you tell someone this, they get weirded out," I countetred.

"Everyone here is strange, I honestly don't give a fuck about who or what you are so long as you're not an asshole. What just happened is enough evidence in itself, so you don't have to worry about us not believing you either," Lovino sighed, looking done with life. Same.

"Like Lovi said, you were already weird to begin with," Antonio smiled obliviously. "Honestly, we would have accepted you two either way. Now I feel even safer knowing that you guys won't let any scary demons possess us. My parents didn't want me coming here because of the rumours of it being haunted! They can sleep sound now!"

Lovino smacked the back of Antonio's head. "Idiota! What did I say about being rude to people in person?"

Antonio whined.

Meanwhile, Gilbert was still ogling at us 'mediums' like a child. "Hey, Fran? Do you think you could get in touch with my Gramps? He had a bunch of funds in the bank, but no one can access them because there's a shit ton of security locks. Can you? Huh? Huh? Oh gott, please man. I've been wanting to buy a new car for so long now, but that stingy old fart's accounts aren't supposed to open up for another year. I'm dying here!"

Gilbert's poor choice of words completely triumphed over mine.

"Imbeciles," I shook my head, shoving past Antonio to leave the auditorium.

"Where are you going?" Francis reprimanded, pausing his mini morality lecture with Gilbert. "We still have much to explain."

"I don't have to explain shit!" I called over my shoulder. "I've experienced enough stupidity for an entire week. I need time to recover the brain cells I lost."

The clack of Lovino's dress shoes were quick to catch up with me. "Agreed. Oi, let's get some coffee, my treat?" he offered.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

Before Antonio could join us, Lovino rudely shut the auditorium's door in front of the Spaniard's face.

I couldn't help but laugh.

…

Jittery and anxious already, the coffee I had with Lovino offered no aid in calming my nerves.

As always, after class I found myself in the library, sitting at the front desk even though I wasn't on shift. I was flipping through the cameras again, going over last night's footage. The ghost always came to snatch the food when I wasn't around – it was infuriating.

Matthew, still caught in my lie, found it funny how I was trying to find a rational explanation for the food's disappearance.

"Still scanning the footage, huh?" Matthew mused as he entered the library. He shook his head, soft curls falling out of his eyes as he draped a casual arm over the front desk. "You're so predictable, Arthur."

"I can't help it," I responded. "I'm a very routine-orientated person."

"I can tell," Matthew smirked. "So, come up with or find anything?"

"No, nothing at all," I groaned.

"I'm telling you, this library is the most haunted place on campus. For decades, my family has dedicated themselves to taking care of it. Are you really just going to discard everything they've seen with their own two eyes? Or how about me? I've seen things move without anyone touching them."

I rubbed my temple. "It's all either bollocks or hearsay. I'll believe you when I see it myself. Although," I paused, contemplating my next few words carefully. "I checked the records. It really is unbelievable how many students have committed suicide on the rooftop here. I didn't know this school used to double as a boarding school for high school students either. The information was so well-hidden. It's like the Deans went out of their way to hide it."

Matthew's eyes became sad. "You didn't know that? And yes, very true. The high suicide rate was a huge reason why my grandmother starting hosting a homework club here, actually."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. I remembered him mentioning something about losing a relative in a tragedy like this, but I was having a hard time connecting the dots.

"Oh," Matthew smiled sheepishly. "That relative of mine, they went to the boarding school, but that's completely unrelated. Basically, the club was founded to prevent more suicides; there hasn't been one here since, so I think it's safe to say that it's been really successful in its objective. The homework club offers a safe place for struggling students to come together and make friends. We help each other out and just talk, you know? You're always welcome to join too if you want. I'm sure you've seen the posters. We meet on Fridays here on the first floor."

"That's a wonderful idea," I admitted. "No one wonder it's done so well. But, I'm afraid this is the first I'm hearing from it."

Matthew looked disappointed; he had a talent for living under the radar. "Well, it does have its drawbacks," Matthew sighed. "Recently, I've been tutoring this German guy. His writing is decent, but he still refuses to accept that he can't use the word awesome every two sentences."

"I know someone very similar," I bitterly remarked. "Writers who can't accept criticism just aren't cut out for the field I suppose."

"Eh, I'll get through to him eventually. He's actually a pretty good guy once you brush past his ego."

"Best of luck to you then," I smiled faintly, standing up from my seat.

"Going to the rooftop… again?" Matthew asked, somewhat pensive.

"Yes," I flushed at the reminder. Alfred was my friend, nothing else. I could still enjoy spending time with him.

"There's a wonderful pair of benches and the scenery helps my muse. I always come up with the best writing ideas there. Besides, I'm not the only one who thinks that way. I have a friend I usually sit and chat with," I rambled, overcompensating with my explanation because of the strange look Matthew was giving me.

"That's good, I guess," Matthew shrugged. "It's just a bit odd, considering…"

'Yes, yes, I know," I filled in for him. "It has a depressing history and what not. Still, that shouldn't stop other people from enjoying it."

Matthew smiled. "You're right. Sorry if I seemed judgemental there. I didn't intend to be."

I laughed. "I've experienced far more judgemental things in my life, lad. No worries."

I left the front desk. "See you later," I said, waving over my shoulder with my knapsack haphazardly draped over my left shoulder.

"Take care," Matthew replied back.

When Arthur was out of sight, Matthew pursed his lips, watching the stiff posture of the Brit with narrowed eyes.

"He's definitely hiding something from me," the Canadian whispered to himself. "…I just hope he's okay."

To be continued...