#☆ . connection : my blood is red and so is yours. it’s enough / allan.

[fromsolaria-archived]

the comics made a good point of showing how not only radius is a ""bad"" parent , but also luna , compared to allan who has zero experience but still makes a somewhat decent job:

radius doesn't show up at the daughters / parents meeting because he's working. luna mentions this every time she opens her mouth , to pat her own shoulder about the fact that she's there instead , meaning that she's good while her ex is not. this not only destroys stella's mood little by little but also puts her into the position to have to bite her tongue every time her dad is spoken ill of.

on his behalf , radius could have tried to clear his schedule considering that stella probably sent him a memo or two about the meeting. my bet is that he intentionally said he couldn't come because he knew allan was there as well , but that's for another moment.

allan really wants to make a good impression on stella , but while luna keeps mentioning the difference between her first & her second marriage , or how she's so happy now ( read: in another city , with another man , barely seeing stella ) he just decides to spent some time with his stepdaughter doing things she likes to make her comfortable , never mentions radius once if not to say that he doesn't intend to replace him in her life & is generally more attentive of what stella says / does. giving her his mastercard to show her his trust was just a little act he did to establish a fact , because he understands that stella had been said many words by her parents but they never actually proved it with actions. even tho stella's not his kid or responsibility he trats her just like as such.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (23)

(Welp, y’all, this is it. This is the last, pre-written chapter that I have written. From here on out we’re gonna have to rely strictly on my writing consistency and... I’m so sorry for that lol Because CLEARLY, if we’re on the last pre-written chapter, after having posted, like, three over the last month, we know that this isn’t gonna be good. BUT! I do have THIS chapter to give you! So please enjoy! And don’t forget to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.22 / Ch.24 (ao3)

Chapter 23: How the Cards Fall

Marinette stared in horror at her former classmates, violently kicking herself for being so reckless. How could she forget that this was one of Alya and Nino’s favorite food carts too? She used to eat there with them all the time! She should have known better than to pick this place! Actually, she shouldn’t have picked anywhere to eat at all! Going to a place she used to enjoy meant going to a place where she used to hang out with her old friends, which meant eventually running into them, which meant- well - this! Oh, how could she be so stupid?

Maybe it won’t be so bad, she reasoned with herself before she could start hyperventilating. Maybe they’ll just roll their eyes and leave instead of making a scene.

But Alya was never one to back down from a (accidental) challenge. As soon as she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, a scowl etched itself onto her lips, and she started stomping in Marinette’s direction.

“It is you!” The red-head scoffed. “Oh, when I get my hands on you-”

Marinette flinched back, officially throwing breathing out the window. She looked at her current classmates and wondered what they would do if she ran, what they would think. Would they follow her or would they stay and talk with Alya? What if they started asking questions that Marinette couldn’t answer? What if Alya answered the questions before she could? Would they believe her? Was she going to have to find a new school again? What if Lila’s lies followed her there too? What if she never escaped Lila’s claims?

Suddenly, not breathing turned into breathing too fast, but before she could spiral further than gasping, a shadow passed over her. 

It was Allan and Claude, coming to stand in front of her as a defense.

“Hey, woah!” Claude said, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “Why don’t you back off a bit and tell us what’s got you so upset?”

A hand touched her shoulder lightly, and Marinette’s gaze snapped to Felix, who was now standing next to her. He met her eyes with a subtle raise of the eyebrows, and she knew what it meant. 

“Are you alright?”

Marinette drew in a deep breath to steady herself and nodded, even though her insides felt like they were turning outwards at this point. Felix must have seen through her fib because his hand stayed on her shoulder as he looked back at Alya. His eyebrows were furrowed, which could be from his concern, but Marinette also knew curiosity when she saw it. He wants to know who these people are, and why they’re angry with her. And after everything she’s told him about her old school, he might be able to figure it out.

Alya briefly paused at the boys’ blockade, before raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. 

“So is this who you’re hiding behind now?” She asked, unimpressed. “Are these the new people you’ve managed to dupe?”

 Marinette tensed, and Felix’s grip tightened on her shoulder. Whether that was a sign of support or his disgruntlement, she wasn’t sure.

“Are we supposed to know what that means?” Allegra, who had also come to stand next to Marinette, drawled.

“No.” Alya said. “Not yet, anyway. This one likes to wait until you’re in pretty deep before springing her trap.”

Marinette bit her lip, indignation rising in her chest. She didn’t deserve this. She hasn’t done anything wrong!

“Alya, that’s enough-” She tried to say, but Alya cut her off.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” The red-head snapped. “You don’t get to have a say anymore, not unless you’re willing to admit what you’ve done, what you really are.”

“Alya, come on.” Nino, who finally decided to join the conversation, coaxed. “L-Let’s just go. It’s not worth fighting over.”

Marinette might have been grateful had he not backed down right after when Alya shot him a glare. 

“I’m going to assume you guys are her new classmates and friends.” Alya continued. “So let me tell you, as a former classmate and best friend, that this girl,” she pointed her finger accusingly at Marinette, “is a fraud.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette couldn’t help shouting.

Alya ignored her. “She makes herself look sweet and innocent by making you croissants or cookies and bringing you handmade gifts, but it’s all an act. All she really wants is the attention that the gifts bring, and when she doesn’t get it, she goes ballistic. I used to think she was the best thing in the world until a foreign exchange student came along and became more popular. Then she started stealing that person’s homework and ripping it up, or throwing her textbooks in the trash, or even tripping her down flights of stairs. One time we even caught her stealing personal items!”

“I didn’t do any of that!” Marinette insisted, more so to her friends than to Alya. “I told you she framed me!”

Alya scoffed. “You can’t even deny it anymore! Lila has all of the rude texts you’ve sent her, there were multiple witnesses to the tattered homework that was on your desk- myself included -and we all saw her take her family heirloom out of your locker.”

“That wasn’t a family heirloom! She literally bought that in a store two months before and then put it in my locker to frame me!”

Alya rolled her eyes and turned back to Claude and Allan. “Obviously, she’s going to make up whatever excuse she can to keep you from listening to me, but I advise you to dump her now while you can. She’ll make your life a living nightmare if she thinks you’re better than her somehow, though at this point,” Alya shot Marinette another scalding glare, “we all are.”

Tears burned in the corner of Marinette’s eyes, but before she could further argue her innocence, Claude spoke up.

“Ok, so what proof do you have of this?”

It was something she’d expected Felix to ask, honestly, and it left her staring at the brunette in shock. He was.. asking questions. The right questions. He wasn’t taking Alya’s words as gospel the way everyone else at Dupont had done with Lila’s words.

Alya frowned. “I already told you-”

“No, I don’t care about what you’ve said.” Claude interrupted. “You’re a stranger I just met, and Marinette is a good friend that I’ve known for a wonderful month and a half. I’m going to need more than your word.”

Alya narrowed her eyes at him, debating.

“Alright, fine. I’ll bring Lila here as a first hand account. She has the texts saved on her phone. As for the homework and such, those have already been replaced and done away with, but I do have the class president binder where several important forms are missing from Marinette burning them instead of giving them to Lila after leaving.”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid laughing despite herself. Lila said that she burned some of the class papers? What would make her lie about something like that? Was it to get out of the work? Oh, boy, was that going to come back to bite her. She probably had to resign all of the ‘missing’ paperwork! Oh, this is the greatest thing Marinette’s ever heard. Hopefully, she said she lost a lot.

“Do you have the burnt papers?” Allan asked. 

“No, of course not-”

“So, let me see if I’ve got this right,” Allegra said, her voice edging on annoyance, “we’re supposed to believe the account of a foreign exchange student, who we also don’t know, and who, apparently, brought out the worst in Marinette by herself even though no one had ever done so before, and the only actual proof you have, other than that girl’s word, is a series of texts that can easily be altered and a binder with some missing pages that ‘Lila’ could have misplaced or even burned herself. Is that correct?”

Alya scoffed. “You’re making it sound ridiculous.”

“No, I’m repeating what you’ve said to us, which is ridiculous.”

“She’s done other things too!” Alya insisted. “Just the other day she met up with one of my other friends and tried to persuade them into her clutches again, even though she had already transferred schools. Look-”

Alya pulled out her phone, and for once, Marinette looked on with interest as well. Lila making up a lie like that meant someone had to be going against her now, right? So who was it? Did someone mention Marinette’s name in an argument, and now Lila’s latching onto that as an advantage?

After a minute of searching, Alya flipped her phone around for them to see her screen, and the picture displayed on it made Marinette’s stomach drop.

“Woah, is that Adrien Agreste?”

The group, aside from Felix, leaned forward to see the picture better, but Marinette found herself leaning back, the blood draining from her features. That was a picture of her and Adrien at the café last Friday, but- but how did- when could they have possibly-

“Where did you get that?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Alya fixed her with a smug grin. “Look familiar? Lila took this while you and Adrien were having lunch last week. I’d been wondering why he was asking her so many questions about her stories, but now it all makes sense. You’ve been secretly coaxing him to your side again, and poor Adrien couldn’t resist.  Even when I called him about the picture, he said he just wanted to be your friend again. I guess he always did see the best in everyone, though.”

Marinette felt sick to her stomach. How long was Lila with them in that café and Marinette didn’t even know it? How much did she overhear as Marinette blabbered on and on to Adrien about her current life? Did she know about Marinette attending Rosemary? Did she tell Alya about her attending Rosemary? How many people did she send that picture to?

She clutched for Felix’s hand on her shoulder, suddenly not trusting herself to stand, and he quickly put his other hand on top of hers. The comfort of his touch was appreciated, but not enough.

A burst of laughter cut into Marinette’s panic, and she turned to Claude who was all but rolling on the grass. He clutched his sides as he howled and even went as far as to wipe tears from his eyes. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute..” the brunette wheezed. “So you’re telling me, that Adrien Agreste, the fashion icon and heart throb of Paris, was in your class, but Marinette only started acting out after the foreign exchange student showed up? No offense to you, Mari, but I’m pretty sure a rich, young model would have been way more popular. How come she didn’t sabotage him?”

Alya faltered for a moment, not quite expecting the question and certainly not the laughter. “W-Well- I mean- she did have a major crush on him. Maybe she didn’t care that he was more popular than her because she liked him so much.”

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, but thankfully, no one touched on that subject. Instead, Allegra hummed and said, “Okay, fine. Assuming that’s true, what made Lila so popular?”

“Plenty of things.” Alya stated matter-of-factly. “She’s helped Prince Ali organize several charities, made petitions to save endangered animal preserves, is best friends with Ladybug-”

Marinette didn’t resist her eye roll.

“-and even saved Jagged stone’s kitten!”

Marinette glanced at Claude, who immediately deadpanned a “what”. She knew that if anyone was going to pick up the last line, it would be him.

“Jagged Stone never owned a kitten.” Claude said. “He’s allergic.”

“It was before he knew he was allergic.”

“He’s still never owned a kitten!” Claude exclaimed with a flail of his arms. “He’s only ever owned a crocodile! That’s been said in multiple interviews!”

“But-”

“And if we want to bring up charities, Prince Ali doesn’t organize any charities. He only donates to them.” Allegra pointed out.

“I-”

“And petitions to protect endangered animal preserves?” Allan echoed. “Those don’t need protection. They are set in stone by law.”

“I’m sure-”

“Look, you’ve clearly been given false information.” Claude said, crossing his arms, “and because you were dumb enough to believe the real attention-seeker, you’ve lost an amazing friend. Now I suggest you leave us alone before I report you to the authorities for harassment.”

Alya’s face twisted with rage. “Harrass- you know what? Whatever. I’ve done my part. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when she starts ruining your life out of jealousy.”

Marinette caught a glimpse of Claude clenching his fists, and Allan put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder to steady him.

“We won’t. Have a nice day.”

Alya huffed and stormed off, dragging Nino with her. He glanced over his shoulder to give Marinette an apologetic look, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and blew out a sigh. That.. could have gone worse.. she supposed.

“Marinette.”

Marinette’s fingers dug into her skin, and she hesitantly looked up at Felix. His hand had loosened on her shoulder, and he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. What was he thinking right now? Was he angry? Disappointed? Confused about why she didn’t tell him about her lunch date with Adrien? She wished he would give her a clue of some kind.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly. “You’re shaking.”

Marinette blinked, pulling her hands away from her body. She was shaking? How did she not notice?

“Oh, and you look so pale!” Allegra cried, wrapping her arms around Marinette’s shoulders. “Should we take you home?”

Marinette grabbed Allegra’s arm and forced a small smile as she shook her head. “No, no, I’m.. I..”

She wanted to say that she was fine, that they could continue having lunch as usual, but a lump in her throat made it hard to get the words out. Next thing she knew, tears were spilling down her cheeks, and she was putting her hand over her mouth to choke down a sob. 

All this time.. All this time she’d been keeping her past a secret from them, scared that they might take Lila’s side like everyone else, yet here they were, holding her close and offering her hushed condolences. They were giving her the very support she’d been afraid of losing, and now she was ashamed that she’d ever been afraid at all. 

“I’m so sorry!” She nearly sobbed.

Allegra pulled her closer. “No, don’t say that! There’s nothing you need to be apologizing for!”

Claude and Allan rushed to wrap their arms around her as well, and Felix slid his hand down to rub her back. This, of course, only made her cry harder, because they were being so gentle with her, so kind. How could she have ever doubted them?

“Why don’t we go back to the house?” Claude suggested gently. “Mom and Dad won’t be back yet so we can give you a minute to recover.”

“And Felix makes the best honeysuckle tea.” Allegra adds. “It’ll cure any pain those idiots caused.”

Marinette sniffed and gave a little nod. People were starting to stare at them anyway, and at this point, she’d lost her appetite.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Allegra said as she led Marinette back to the car. 

Marinette took the handkerchief Felix offered her and dried some of her tears, then gave him a small, grateful smile. He hadn’t spoken much during the altercation, but the way he quietly hovered around her and held her hand when she needed it said enough, especially since she knew he didn’t appreciate being touched. 

It’s funny. Whenever she used to think about them finding out about Lila- because, surely, it would have to happen eventually -she always assumed she would feel anxious or paranoid afterwards. “What if they didn’t believe her? What if they constantly doubted her actions now? What if she constantly doubted their actions? Would they ever be able to trust each other fully again?” But as she got into the limo and sat down, and everyone crowded around her to show their love and support over the awful things Lila had said, all Marinette felt was safe.

~~~~~~

Felix leaned his back against the peppered countertop and crossed his arms, his finger tapping against his bicep with impatience. The iron tea kettle sat on the stove next to him, slowly heating and steeping the honeysuckle tea that he’d been requested to make. Usually, it took no time at all for the kettle to whistle, but today, it felt like he’d been standing there for an eternity. 

He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave to see how long he’d been waiting, and the numbers 12:45 blinked across it. 

12:45pm.. That meant he’d been in the kitchen for about.. 

Two minutes. 

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze sliding to the kitchen doorway. Marinette was sitting in the living room with the others just outside of it, with her and Allegra on one three-cushioned-couch, and Claude and Allan on the other one across from them. She seemed to be having a decent time, chatting and laughing with everyone, but that didn’t ease Felix’s mind any, not after what he saw in the park.

He’ll admit to being curious when the fight first started. Rosemary is known for its hair-pulling, arm-biting brawls, but they’re also known to remain dignified despite them. For example, the brawls are almost always private, which is why, when someone called out to Marinette in such a harsh and open manner, Felix couldn’t help being intrigued.

When he saw how Marinette reacted, however, his stance on the situation dramatically changed.

In the month and a half that he’s known her, Marinette has faced down high-class celebrities, an overwhelming amount of clothing requests from Claude, and an actual akuma, and not once has Felix seen her so much as flinch. Not until today, that is, when that red-head somehow shook her to her core. Just the sight of her sent Marinette into hysterics, crying, shaking, her face becoming white as a sheet- he’s quite certain she almost hyperventilated at some point too. This strong girl that he’d grown to admire, that he was starting to believe could face anything unscathed, had crumbled to pieces in mere seconds, and it honestly frightened him. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to help. So he simply grabbed her shoulder, hoping she would understand what he was trying to say- that he was there for her, and was she alright? 

She understood him, thankfully, and her shoulders started to loosen a bit under his gaze.

But then that red-head started talking.

She spat out the most ridiculous accusations Felix had ever heard, accusations stating that Marinette was a liar and a fake, that she only ever did things for attention. Even if the part about wanting attention was true- which it wasn’t -why would it matter? She does incredible things simply because people ask her to. Why shouldn’t she get any attention for it? 

As annoying as the last claim was, though, it wasn’t nearly as infuriating as the rest of the things that girl said. She told them she was Marinette’s former best friend, yet she cast the ravenette aside at the drop of a hat simply because an exchange student with a rusted silver tongue told her to do so. Honestly, who would be dumb enough to believe that some foreign student was best friends with one of the Parisian superheroes? Or that a highschooler actually got to organize charity events? The most she would be able to do at her age was greet people as they walked inside. 

Felix wasn’t even going to think about the Jagged Stone claim, since Claude already made it quite clear that that was another lie, but really, who goes into a new school spreading the most impossibly grand lies they can? More importantly, how did those lies manage to stick? Was everyone at Dupont a complete moron?

No.. No, that wasn’t it. No one was that stupid, surely. They all probably wanted to believe Lila. That’s why they pounced on Marinette the way they did. They were looking for an excuse to go after her the entire time. 

Felix clenched his fist and turned to the kettle again, watching the steam rise from the spout. It’s no wonder she became so worried when saw Adrien Agreste at Rosemary. After her crush on him and the lies, Felix wouldn’t want to see his former classmates either.

...Speaking of Agreste, what was that picture about? Felix doubted Marinette was trying to ‘persuade him to her side’ as that red-head had said, but her reaction to it was extremely strong nonetheless. Why were they in a café together? It sounded like she met up with him only last week, but she’d told Felix a couple weeks ago that she didn’t want to see him. Why would she put herself through that? And why did she grip his hand so hard when she saw the picture?

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle broke into his thoughts, and Felix jumped to move it off of the burner. Once it was set aside properly, he turned the stove off and began setting out the mugs to fill them. They weren’t as delicate or pristine as the tea sets his father owned, but they would do nicely for the time being. Besides, if Marinette had a one-of-a-kind glass teacup, she might fret about breaking it instead of enjoying the tea.

Felix filled the mugs and put them on a tray, along with some sugars, milk, and honey, then picked up the tray to bring it into the living room. A round of delighted cheers filled the room as he entered, and Claude eagerly bounced up from the couch to grab his mug. Felix moved the tray out of his reach, though, not wanting to offset the balance and spill everything.

“Sorry it took so long.” Felix said as he set the tray on the table. “The tea is fresh so I brought in ice cubes to cool it off if you want them. If not, make sure to blow on it before drinking or you’ll burn your tongue.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill.” Claude remarked as he reached for his mug again.

Felix rolled his eyes. “That was for Marinette’s benefit, not yours.”

“I’m sure Mari knows how to drink hot tea.” Claude retorted.

“But I appreciate the advice anyway.” Marinette spoke up with a smile.

Felix glanced at her as he handed her a pink mug, trying not to look at the puffed up red spots under her eyes. Her tears had long since disappeared, but the remnants of them still remained, including the trails on her cheeks that the tears had run down.

“You’re going to love this, Marinette.” Allegra chirped, thankfully taking the girl’s focus. “This tea literally tastes like honey. I doubt you’ll even need any sugar!”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna.” Claude smirked, already shoveling a spoonful of sugar into his tea. “Unsweet tea was never my style.”

“I swear you are gonna die from diabetes one day.” Allan muttered while taking a sip of his tea. 

“And it will totally be worth it.” Claude replied.

Marinette and the others laughed, which helped Felix relax a tad as he sat next to Allan. If Marinette was laughing again, maybe that meant she was feeling better.

The ravenette’s lips hovered over the mug for a solid minute as she blew on the pale, celadon liquid, and when she finally decided to take a drink, Felix found himself staring. Did she like it? Was it too strong? Should he go make something else for her?

“Oh, this is amazing!” Marinette gasped, her eyes lighting up.

Felix smiled, relieved. “I’m glad you think so. I like to add a few drops of honey and a sprinkle of sugar every now and then because it brings out the flavor, but that’s just a personal preference.”

“The tea is incredible already, but I’ll try your style anyway.” She said, reaching for the sugar. Claude pushed it towards her, while Allegra gave her the honey, and once Marinette dumped the extra ingredients into her mug, she took a spoon from a tray to stir them.

She took another sip of the tea, and this time, she sank into the couch with a contented sigh.

“Wow. That is so good, especially with how warm it is! I feel like I’ve just been wrapped up in the most comfortable blanket ever.”

The trio shared a laugh, and Marinette sat up with another giggle herself, but to Felix’s disappointment, the smiles didn’t last. 

Marinette set her mug on her lap and let out a sigh, a bashful smile replacing her giddy one. She kept her gaze on her cup as she said, “So, I guess… I should explain myself?”

The group exchanged glances, and Allegra frowned.

“What’s there to explain?” Allan was the first to ask.

Marinette looked up. “Well- Y-You know.. The reasons why Alya was so angry with me. How everything happened at my old school.”

“Again, what’s there to explain?” Claude said. “It’s obvious what happened. This ‘Lila’ person spread rumors about you around the school, and for some reason, your classmates were dumb enough to believe it. End of story.”

For once, Felix agreed with him.

“.. Not quite.” Marinette admitted, causing Felix to furrow his eyebrows. How much more to the story could there possibly be? Don’t tell him it got worse.

“I’d like to tell my side of the story, if you guys don’t mind.”

Allegra offered her a reassuring smile. “Of course not, but you don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah.” Allan agreed. “Your word is all we need.”

A grateful smile caught the corners of Marinette’s lips. “Thank you, but I want to do this. I’ll feel a lot better once you guys know the full truth.”

“Then we’re all ears.” Felix said, sincerely.

Marinette’s smile widened slightly as she glanced at him, but her expression fell serious again when she began her story.

“It started almost two years ago. The September before last, a girl named Lila joined our school- er -my old school, Dupont. She came in telling all of these different stories about meeting celebrities and arranging charity events or music concerts and being ‘best friends’ with Ladybug.” 

The sheer disgust in her voice when she mentioned being best friends with Ladybug made Felix smirk, but he let her continue.

“With stories as crazy as that, I couldn’t believe that my fr- uh.. That my classmates were actually believing her. In one day, she had them following her around like dogs and carrying her stuff because she claimed to have hurt her wrist in an accident. I forget which excuse she used, but it ticked me off to no end. So I tried to tell everyone that she was lying.”

“It.. didn’t end well, unfortunately. She turned into an akuma and went on a rampage, and after Ladybug and Chat Noir fixed everything, she only gained more sympathy from everybody. That’s when the stories about me started.”

“Every time I tried to expose her, she would make up some elaborate lie that made me the bad guy, and everyone swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I tried to tell the teachers about what was happening, and some of them helped keep us separated during class time. But other than that, I was kind of just.. left to handle it by myself.”

Felix held back a scoff. Typical. Teachers never bothered entering student squabbles if they thought it wasn’t law-suit worthy.

“Of course, since the teachers weren’t doing anything, the lies only got worse, and soon, Lila started lying about me unprovoked. She would say I stole her things or ripped up her homework or tripped her down the stairs. I almost got expelled over it twice.”

“Wait, seriously?” Claude said before Felix could actually scoff. “So you told the teacher that this ‘Lila’ was spreading lies around the school, but they still tried to expel you over the things she said?”

Marinette nodded. “They would have to if she hadn’t come back and made up some lies about having been mistaken. I’m still not sure why she did that.”

Felix shook his head, absolutely incredulous to what he was hearing. It appeared the students weren’t the only morons in that school. How has it stayed funded for this long?

“Maybe it was a power play.” Allan muttered with a frown. “She sounds like the type of person who would do that.”

Marinette shrugged. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

“Didn’t anyone believe you?” Allegra asked.

A wince overcame the ravenette’s features, and Felix reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about that question.

“Yes, someone did,” Marinette admitted, “but he wasn’t very helpful, to be honest. Actually, he tried to get me to stop going against Lila in case she got akumatized again. His reasoning was that her lies would eventually be found out on their own, but.. as you know.. They never were.”

Claude scoffed and put a hand to his chest, seeming to be offended by the very notion. “Are you for real? He just wanted you to let it go?”

“Did he even say anything while you were in the process of being expelled?” Allan asked.

Marinette’s face said plenty, but she answered aloud anyway. “No, not that I know of. He never liked getting in the middle of confrontations.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to scoff. He tipped his drink up to his lips, downing half the mug to avoid interrupting her story further. Felix scoffed, taking a sip of his tea to avoid interrupting her story further. Did no one want to stand up for Marinette? Did no one in that forsaken school have any sense of loyalty or gratitude? That dumb redhead at the park even admitted that Marinette had done numerous things for them as favors. How can they look at themselves in the mirror each morning when they treat people so horribly?

“So what happened after you almost got expelled?” Allegra prompted.

“Well, if you’re asking me what changed, then nothing, really.” Marinette replied. “Lila continued to lie, and I continued to take the fall for it, except now people were actually doing things to me. Before, they only talked about me behind my back or glared at me from the front, but after another one of Lila’s crying fits, they started ripping up my homework, stealing my things. I guess they thought they were playing the act of karma when they did it.”

“And I assume that guy who believed you stayed quiet the whole time?” Claude asked bitterly.

Marinette shrugged. “Basically. He tried to speak up on my behalf a few times, but he was always shut down too fast for it to matter.”

“Eventually, it got so bad that everyone started tripping me too, or running into me on purpose in the hallway. The last straw was when someone tripped down the front steps of the school, and I almost stumbled into a passing car. I was lucky I didn’t get hit.”

Felix’s grip tightened on his cup, and he thanked whatever was watching over her that day while simultaneously cursing the idiots she’d been forced to interact with. Did they even realize what they were doing? Or did they simply not care about almost murdering another classmate?

“Oh my gosh.” Allegra gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

“That’s insane.” Allan said.

“Were they even sorry?!” Claude demanded, outraged. “Did they even look ashamed when you almost got hit?”

Marinette took another drink of her tea and shook her head. “No. My Maman tried to talk to the school about it, but since nothing actually happened besides me getting pushed, they could only offer her detention slips or suspension.”

She paused to look up at Felix, surprising him.

“That’s why I decided to transfer to Rosemary.” She said, and in that moment, it felt as though everything she had ever told him clicked into place. The reason the akuma attacks all seemed minor to her, why she never mentioned her old school, her becoming pale when Agreste first came around to Rosemary- it all made sense now, like he’d taken a million separate puzzle pieces and connected them to form a single picture. 

Felix thought he would be pleased, that he would feel triumphant upon solving this brain teaser known as Marinette, but he didn’t feel pleased at all. Instead he felt.. Sympathy. And fury. This girl was not some puzzle for him to mess around with. She was a person, a friend, his friend, and to hear her be treated in such a way made his blood boil.

“We’re glad you did.” Allegra commented.

“Yeah, you’re clearly much better off here.” Claude agreed. “Those jerks don’t know what they lost.”

“So you guys aren’t.. Ya know.. mad at me or anything?”

“Mad at you?” Allan frowned. “Why would we be mad at you?” 

“Well,” Marinette thumbed her mug for a moment, “I did kind of keep this a secret from all of you on purpose. I just didn’t want to drag my old problems to my new school. That and.. I didn’t want to risk you not believing me.. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you guys.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Allegra said. “You went through something terrible. We don’t blame you for not wanting to bring it up again.”

“Besides, you transferred schools to escape from the rumors, right?” It only makes sense that you wouldn’t tell us about them when you got here.” Allan pointed out.

Felix nodded in agreement, and Marinette let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good to hear. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course.” Claude smiled. “You’re our friend, Marinette. A few dumb rumors would never drive us away. If it did, we wouldn’t even be friends with each other by now.”

Marinette gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, we’ve all been lied about at some point.” The brunette stated nonchalantly. “I mean, we go to Rosemary, a school filled to the brim with rich, talented, and extremely spoiled kids who have nothing better to do than gossip about each other. I get accused of cheating at least once a semester. Allegra had rumors about her bribing the dance teacher when she was chosen for a leading role one year, and Felix has been rumored to actually not be rich at all.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but an incredulous laugh left Marinette’s lips. 

“What?”

Allan snorted. “Oh, that one was pretty funny. Some people still think he actually lives in the school.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Cause he wouldn’t invite people over to his house.” Allegra said with a wry smile. “And he practically wears the same outfit everyday.

Marinette hummed, looking Felix up and down. “They make a good point.. Felix, is there something you’d like to confess to?”

Felix gave a playful scoff, and the group laughed at his reaction.

“See?” Claude asked. “Your rumors were definitely worse than ours, but we’re not inexperienced. People will always try to bring you down in the lamest way possible.”

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah.. I guess they will. Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime.” Allegra smiled, pulling Marinette into a small hug.

“We’re always here for you.” Allan added sincerely.

Marinette smiled as well. “I know.”

“And if any of those jerks come around you again, you just let us know,” Claude said, punching his fist into his palm, “especially if it’s that guy who tried to tell you to ‘ignore’ Lila.”

A nervous laugh came from Marinette, and she reached up to mess with her pigtails as she said, “I appreciate that.”

Felix, satisfied with how the conversation ended, tilted his cup up to his lips, only to realize it was empty. He pulled his cup down and scanned the table, noting that Allegra and Claude’s cups were empty as well.

“Why don’t I get us some more tea?” He offered, moving to grab the tray.

“Oh!” Marinette perked up, quickly downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. “I’ll come too.”

Felix blinked. “Uh.. that’s not necessary. I can carry it all in one sitting. If you’d rather sit-”

“No, it’s alright.” She said, standing up to take Claude’s cup from him. “I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

The trio exchanged glances again, but Felix was too busy eyeing Marinette to notice. ‘Stretch her legs’? She’s only been sitting for- what? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? How restless could her legs be?

“We’ll wait in here.” Allegra remarked, referring to herself and the other boys.

Felix nodded and picked up the tray, not bothering to argue with Marinette. If she wanted to walk with him into the kitchen, she certainly had the right to do so. And who knows? Maybe she wanted a moment to herself and didn’t know how to tell them.

They strode into the kitchen together, and Felix set the tray on the counter while Marinette handed him her mugs. 

“Thank you for helping me. You know you didn’t need to.” He said as he refilled the mugs. 

“I know,” Marinette said, leaning against the counter while she waited, “but I actually wanted to speak with you privately, so this works for me.”

Felix raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She wanted to speak with him privately? 

“What did you need?”

Marinette glanced up at him, then seemed to think better of it as her gaze flicked back down to the ground. “I wanted to apologize to you too.. You remember last week when you asked me if something was wrong and I told you I didn’t want to talk about it? Well, the reason I was upset was because Adrien came to the bakery that day and begged me to speak with him. I didn’t really feel comfortable with it, but I felt guilty not giving him a second chance when he seemed so sorry about how he’d acted with Lila. So I agreed to have lunch with him after the Valentine’s Day party, which was where I ran off to while you guys were cleaning up. I guess Lila took a picture of us there, and I didn’t realize it..”

Felix frowned. Her reasons for visiting Agreste again were troubling to hear, but..

“Why do you need to apologize to me?”

Marinette’s gaze snapped to his again, her eyes wide with surprise. “Because I didn’t tell you. I knew after everything you’d heard about him that you wouldn’t want me going to see him, but instead of hearing your opinion, I just didn’t say anything. I should have talked to you about it. Maybe then Lila wouldn’t have found me and taken the picture..”

Felix stared at her for a moment, astounded by her logic. She thought she had to ask him before going to see Adrien? Sure, Felix would have advised against it immediately, but that didn’t mean she had to ask his permission.

“Marinette, you don’t owe me anything.” He told her. “Your life is your life. If you want to go have lunch with Adrien Agreste, that’s your decision. And while I would have advised against it, I still would have supported your decision nonetheless. I am your friend, not your boss or guardian. Do you understand?”

Marinette nodded, a grateful smile crossing her lips. He was happy to see it.

“More importantly, you don’t owe Agreste anything either. Just because he finally wisened up to his mistakes doesn’t mean you have to give him a second chance, especially if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.” 

Felix paused, thinking over what he’d just said.

“Although, I am curious.. What did he apologize for? He wasn’t one of the people who assaulted you, was he?”

“Oh, no, no.” Marinette hastily answered. “He, uhm.. He was actually the one who didn’t believe Lila.”

Felix tensed, using all of his self-discipline to avoid screaming ‘Are you kidding me?!’. Because really, out of all the people that had to convince Marinette to let Lila go, why did it have to be him? Actually, now that he thought about it, of course it was him! Who else would Marinette have been willing to listen to? Who else would have had the gall, the audacity, to act as though enabling a spoiled brat was some noble sacrifice? Wow, that guy just managed to keep climbing up the ranks on Felix’s ‘most hated’ list, didn’t he?

“I see.” Felix managed to mumble. “Are you going to tell the others?”

Marinette bit her lip, which was most likely a ‘no’.

“Not yet-” bingo “-I don’t want him getting a bad reputation. He did apologize, after all.”

Felix drew in a deep breath, letting the frustration towards that answer melt out of him. This was Marinette’s decision. She has trusted him with it, and he is going to respect it, no matter how much he hates it. That’s why he simply heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand on her shoulder as he said, “Marinette, you are truly too kind for this world.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she let out a small laugh. “O-Oh.. thanks.”

Felix turned back to the tray and picked it up, offering her a polite smile as he did. He didn’t agree with her method of handling things, but he did trust her to know what she was doing. Marinette was Marinette, after all, and she was much more capable than he was in most areas. If she thought this was the best way to go, he wouldn’t dispute it.

“So,” he began as he gestured for her to start moving towards the living room, “if I just put sugar in Claude’s mug instead of tea, do you think he would know the difference?”

Marinette snorted. “Oh~, that’s a tough one. Maybe we should test it to find out.”

“Alright, but you have to give him the cup. If I do, he’ll assume I’ve poisoned it.”

Marinette giggled and walked into the living room, and Felix followed behind her with a smile. He knew he couldn’t march up to the Agreste mansion and rip Adrien apart like he preferred- he probably couldn’t get any revenge on him whatsoever -but Felix would be darned if he just let this go the way Marinette wanted him to. Actions such as this needed to be punished, not forgiven and forgotten because of some half-hearted apology. If she wanted to toss the whole ordeal over her shoulder, that was fine, but Felix was going to hold a grudge against Dupont that was strong enough for the both of them.

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(Devotion: Alright guys! We’ve talked about the message of God’s wonderful salvation- which you should totally go back and read if you haven’t accepted Christ as your savior. It’s extremely important. -we’ve talked about how the Bible says people will react to the word of God, which has been proven to be true time and again; We have talked about Hell and why it exists; and in the last message, we talked about God’s compassion and faithfulness to His people. The last devotion wasn’t exactly in line with the others as far as the salvation theme, but today’s devotion will be! We’re going to talk about Jesus Christ and what exactly He went through on the cross to become the perfect sacrifice for our sins. This one’s probably going to be a bit long, and it is going to be gruesome. So what I’m going to do is bolden the main points of what He went through, then I’m going to describe them in detail. That way, people who can’t stomach gore or painful descriptions can still see a semblance of what He did, and people who can stomach it will get to understand the full extent of which Jesus loves us. Alright? Everyone got it? Great! Let’s get going then!

We start in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus comes here only a few hours or less before He is arrested to be tried for crucifixion. He knows He is about to be arrested; He knows that this is the only way to save us from our sins, but that doesn’t stop Him from crying out to God and begging Him for a last way out. He says, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt”, and the Bible says that He was under so much stress during this prayer, He actually began sweating drops of blood. Blood! More so, the Bible also tells us that Jesus had to have an actual angel fly down and keep His heart from rupturing, lest He die prematurely. That means that Jesus was so stressed He almost died before He could even be crucified! Jesus was scared! He was terrified of going through with what God was asking of Him, and wouldn’t we all be! Nobody likes pain, and Jesus was about to go through one of the greatest pains we could ever face. Not only that, there were going to be a few other add-ons to the physical pain He was about to receive. 

See, Jesus is supposed to be the perfect lamb, the perfect sacrifice to atone for all of our sins, but to do that, Jesus not only needs to be punished for the sins we have committed, He also has to become the thing He’s being punished for. You cannot punish something that is innocent. It would be unjust. Jesus is aware of this, and that’s another reason He’s as stressed as He is in this moment of prayer. Although Jesus is manifested in human form at the moment, He is still very much God and part of the Holy Trinity, and as such, He still hates sin with a burning passion. He is disgusted by the very thought of it, the very idea. So imagine His dismay when He figures out that He has to become sin! That it has to be woven and meshed into His entire being! That would be like, for me, looking at all of the disgusting food water that’s in the sink before doing dishes and having to bathe myself in it without soap. (even bathing in it with soap would be bad, but you know) And for you guys! Think of the most disgusting thing on earth and then imagine being drench in it! Having it smeared on your skin and shoved in your mouth and caked all over your body- That’s what becoming our sin was going to be like for Jesus, and He hated every bit of it!...

But He loved us. So He went on with it anyway, the pain of crucifixion and the atrocity of becoming all of the sins of the world at once.

As soon as He was done with prayer, Judas- one of the former twelve disciples -betrayed Jesus and handed Him over to the chief priests as well as a crowd of people and soldiers. Jesus went willingly with them and did not fight. In fact, when Peter- another one of the twelve -leapt forward to protect Him by cutting off one of the High Priest’s ears, Jesus actually rebuked him and proceeded to put the High Priest’s ear back on his head. He was healing one of the very people who were about to kill Him! And the disciples were so confused and so panicked by this mob and Jesus’ “strange” behavior, that they all fled. Every single one of them. (This was done to fulfill scripture, so we shouldn’t judge them too harshly, but it is extremely sad for Jesus’ case.)

So the High Priests take Jesus away to Caiaphas, another High priest, and they put Him on trial. The High Priests and Elders tried to put false witnesses up on the stand, but none of their stories were adding up. They couldn’t share the same details that the other was, and almost no two stories were the same. Therefore, the High Priests got frustrated and started taunting Jesus directly, saying, “Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?” But Jesus refused to say anything. He just sat there, silent. This angered the High Priest, so he finally just yelled at Him- or at least, I imagine he yelled -and said, “I adjure thee by the name of the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God.” And here, we have one of the instances that Jesus openly admits, plain and blunt, that He is the Christ. He tells the High Priest that He is the Son of God, and that after this, He will be sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of Heaven.

The High Priest rents his clothes (which means to tear them. It used to be a sign of grieving) and says that Jesus has committed blasphemy, and unfortunately, the rest of the council agree and sentence Him to death. This is where the beginning of the crucifixion process begins. They still had to get a governor’s approval for the death sentence, but that didn’t stop them from taking Jesus and blindfolding Him and beating him while He was blindfolded. They would laugh and spit in His face during this and taunt Him, saying “Prophesy unto us, though Christ, who is he that smote thee?” It was an incredibly humiliating experience for our Lord to go through, but it was about to get much much worse.

The next morning, they take Jesus to Pontius Pilate, a governor, and demand that Jesus be crucified. Pilate, I would assume, reviews the case, because we see him ask Jesus if He is the King of the Jews a few verses later. Jesus simply answers with a “thou sayest” then refuses to speak again for the rest of the time. Despite that, though, Pilate knew the people were only delivering Jesus there because they were jealous of Him. So he gave the angry mob a choice: “Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?”

so understand this choice, it is important to know that there was a certain feast going on at that time, and at the feast, Pontius likes to release a prisoner of the people’s choice. Barabbas was a current prisoner, known for being a murderer and a thief, and I’m sure Pilate was hoping that by presenting a very unjust man compared to Jesus for release, the people would concede and choose Jesus to release. That’s not what happened, though. The people were so angry and so swayed by the High Priest’s influence that they decided to let the thief and murderer loose, as opposed to a completely innocent man. Pontius Pilate is flabbergasted and asks them, “What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?”

The response was.. unanimous.

“Let him be crucified.”

“Why? What evil hath he done?” Pilate persisted, but the people only cried out louder for Jesus to be crucified. So Pilate, seeing that he couldn’t change their minds, washed his hands in a bowl of water and said, “I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.”

Thus, Jesus was sent off to be Scourged, the first part of the crucifixion process. Scourging is a devious, calculated type of torture that uses a cat of nine tails to rip the flesh off of its victims. A cat of nine tails is basically a leather handle that has nine different whips attached to the same end, and on the end of those whips were hooks created from shattered glass or twisted metal or any other kind of sharp thing you can think of. The romans would throw the whip across their victim’s skin, and the jagged pieces laced into the whip would latch onto the skin. Then, the Romans would yank across the whip, causing the jagged pieces to tear through the flesh. The pain that would come from that is excruciating, and during this scourging, Jesus was stripped of his garments and whipped with a cat of nine tails thirty nine times. To put that in perspective, it takes 40 times of being whipped with that thing to be killed. This means that Jesus was whipped to the point of near death. His skin is in tatters. There is blood all over his skin. His teeth have probably cracked from having to grit them so much, and Jesus is in pain. He’s in so much pain already.

But it’s not over yet.

The next thing the Romans decide to do is place a purple garment around him, and weave a crowd of thorns together. These aren’t just regular thorns, either. These thorns are about two inches long and pointed, and by the time the Romans got a thick circle of thorns together, I’d imagine you could hardly hold it in your hands without getting hurt. They took those thorns and pushed all 70 or so of them into Jesus’ skull. THEN they grabbed a rod and beat the thorns into His head!! The thorns punctured Jesus’ head so deeply, that the thorns actually touched his skull, curved from hitting it, then poked back out of His skin somewhere else. The way the Romans put this crown on His head, Jesus physically couldn’t take it off. And after all of that, the Romans bowed down in front of Jesus and mocked Him again, saying, “Hail! King of the Jews!” and beat Him with their bare hands, even though they had already whipped Him to the point of near death.

Pilate took Jesus to the Jews and again begged them to reconsider and let Jesus go, but the Jews refused to do so. They screamed for Jesus’ death all the more, so Pilate reluctantly gave it to them. This leads us to the beginning of the end, when they make Jesus carry His own cross. Part of the crucifixion was having the crucified carry their own cross to Golgotha, or Skull. It was kind of like an extra burden and humiliation attempt, and it worked well. Think of it like a murderer being forced to make his own death shot and give it to the nurses who were going to insert it in him. Jesus had to walk through the city, or at least on some sort of road, where crowds of people were lined up on both sides, all of them cheering for His death, and He had to do this while He could barely stand up straight. The Bible tells us that, because of His injuries, Jesus actually didn’t get to carry His cross all the way to Golgotha. He collapsed somewhere along the way, and a man named Simon had to help Him carry it the rest of the way, but sadly, they did get it there. 

Once Jesus and the cross were on the mount, the Romans laid the cross down, laid Jesus on the cross, and used these huge nails to nail Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross. This was done through careful puncture wounds between the wrist bones and foot bones. It kept Jesus in place, while aggravating his nerves to make his feet and hands go crazy with pain. The Romans then raised the cross up for all to see, and for the next six hours Jesus hung on that cross. Something to note about this is that Jesus’ cross was not smooth. It had splinters and jagged edges all over the place, and the way the nails were pierced into His feet and hands caused Him caused His lungs to push heavily on His diaphragm. Because of this, breathing became a bit of a problem. His lungs could take in air, but He couldn’t breathe out. To do that, He would have to pull up on the nails in His wrists and push up on the nails in His feet and exhale. Pushing up, though, would cause Him to push His scraped, slashed, and bruised back against the splinters or possibly even into them. And let me remind you: He hung on that cross for six hours. Six. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would do a lot of breathing in six hours.

And yet, despite all of that pain and suffering, the worst was still yet to come.

Jesus said seven different phrases while on the cross. Seven times He pulled Himself up on the cross, enduring extreme forms of agony, to speak with us. Would you like to know the first thing He said?

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

Jesus asked God to have mercy on us and forgive us. We’ve rejected Him and cursed His name time and time again, we’ve insisted on turning to Him with malice and hatred, and now we’ve put Him through some of the worst, most excruciating pain imaginable.. But He asked God to forgive us anyway. This, Jesus’ incredible love and mercy and grace towards us, is the baseline of Christianity. His love is what keeps this world turning on its very axis, and it’s why we have no qualms shouting His name to the rooftops. His name deserves to be shouted and praised after all of the things He went through just to allow us to be with Him and talk with Him.

The second phrase He said was to a thief who was hanging on the cross with Him. In the Bible, we are told that Jesus wasn’t the only one being crucified that night. Two thieves were also being crucified along with Him, and they were placed on the mount to His left and to His right. The thief on the right was spitting on Him and mocking Him as well, but the thief on the left rebuked the first thief, saying, “Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.” And the second thief turned to Jesus and added, “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”

This is when Jesus speaks the second time, as He, I imagine, turns to the thief as best He can to reply, “Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” This conversation right here is a wonderful example of salvation and how simple it truly is. This thief was dying. He’d lived a bad life full of mischief and wickedness, and he had no way of making that right. But because he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, he was still able to go to Heaven. Salvation isn’t about works or what we can try to give back to Christ (although, we should try to give back to Christ as much as we can after being saved), it’s about the free gift that Jesus gave us. Heaven and Salvation is a gift. All we have to do is accept it.

The third phrase Jesus says is to John, one of the disciples, and Mary, Jesus’ mother. The Bible says that Jesus sees them before He speaks, so I imagine they are near the cross and weeping. Again, He drags Himself up on the splintered cross, draws in a pain-staking breath, and utters, “Women, behold thy son!” to Mary, and to John He says, “Behold thy mother!”. So He was making sure that His mother was going to be taken care of before He passed away.

Around this time, as Jesus was hanging on the cross, the earth fell into total darkness. I’m talking the sky was black. And as soon as this happened, Jesus cried out into the sky, saying his fourth comment on the cross.

“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” or “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

This.. is where we see the second add-on that made Jesus so terribly stressed during His prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. He is taking on the sins of the world. One can only imagine how many sins that would be, and in this moment, Jesus is taking every single one of them and forcing them into a single person, a single place to look upon. There was so much sin in Jesus at the very hour, that God had to do what He’s never done before in history and turn His back on a human being. 

There are times when God’s grace leaves us, when His mercy runs out and we are instead faced with His judgement, but despite that judgement, God is still present in our lives and in the world around us. No matter how alone we’ve felt in the world, God has always been there next to us without us knowing. But not here. Here, God is actively turning His back on Jesus. He is completely forsaking Jesus because of the amount of sin that has poured into Jesus’ heart and soul as part of the sacrifice. That absence of God is something we are never going to know (unless you don’t get saved and go to hell, I suppose) but I can only imagine how empty it must be. How crushingly lonely it must feel, to know that now, Jesus truly is all alone in this world. The very God, the other part of Himself, that He’s been with since the beginning is now just.. Gone. That, I believe, was the worst part of this entire crucifixion for Jesus. He can face the physical pain; He can face the disgustingness of sin; He can face the humiliation of being God but also being mocked and treated like a life form lower than dirt because He knew He wasn’t facing any of that alone. He knew God was right by His side.

But now He wasn’t. 

And Jesus was still there on the cross.

We see in the Bible that the darkness lasted for a full three hours, meaning Jesus has to go at least three more hours without God’s presence and comfort and light. In these last few hours, though, Jesus says three more phrases. His fifth phrase is, “I thirst.”

Another part of the Roman crucifixion costume was to get a sponge and soak it in vinegar mixed with gall. The combination created an extremely bitter taste that would supposedly distract the crucified from their pain every now and then, if only for a moment. So when Jesus said, “I thirst”, the Romans quickly got a sponge or even a cup ready and gave Him a sip of it. After He drank the cup, Jesus cried with a loud voice and said His final two phrases. Now in Luke and John, the last phrase that Jesus says is different when compared to each other, but the phrases are both so unique that I believe Jesus said both of them, one right after the other, and John and Luke simply wrote down different halves. So I’m going to write the last two phrases together.

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. It is finished.”

After this phrase, Jesus gives up the ghost, or in other words, allowed Himself to die. This is another crucial point of Christianity because it shows Jesus’ power over life and death itself. He isn’t killed by blood loss or exhaustion or by a heart attack or anything like that. He simply dies because He wanted to at that moment. I think that’s kind of comforting actually. A God as powerful and loving as Jesus, who can control His own life and death as well as everyone else’s and was willing to give up His own life for us when we didn’t deserve it or even ask, is a God I most definitely want to serve.

Unfortunately, though, death was not quite the end of Jesus’ sacrifice. Not many people know this (or, at least, I didn’t know it for a long while), but after Jesus’ death, He went to hell for three straight days. Yes, you read that correctly. Actual Hell. If He’s going to take our punishment, He needs to take all of it, right? So don’t think God is just dishing out the punishments, but not taking any for Himself. He doesn’t need any, because He is a holy and perfect God, but He took some anyway so we didn’t have to, because He is also loving and merciful. 

Hell was, thankfully, the last step of the sacrifice. After that, Jesus completed the ritual of becoming our free ticket to salvation by raising Himself from the dead! Have you ever heard of anyone who could raise themselves? I haven’t! And on top of that, the Bible says that Jesus’ resurrection was so powerful, that several other people around him were raised from the dead too! Just because He raised himself! Isn’t that crazy?

This is why rejecting Christ is such a big deal to God, and why people who claim there are other ways to Heaven are extremely blasphemous, because if there were any other possible way to Heaven, do you honestly think that God would have sent His only, begotten Son to die on the cross for us? Do you think God wanted to come down to suffer through all of this pain just to say “yeah, actually, you can also get in this other way”? No, of course not. Rejecting Christ’s sacrifice and salvation is basically telling Him that all of that pain and suffering didn’t matter, the same as spitting on Him like the other Jews as He hung on the cross. 

He’s made the pathway to Heaven unbelievably simple. All we have to do is admit that we’re sinners, admit that we need saving from our sins, and accept Jesus Christ to be our savior by believing that He was the Son of God and that He died on the cross for us. If I was sure about anything in life, it is this. God is real. Heaven is real. Hell is real. Jesus is real, and He, along with God the Father and the Holy Spirit, is calling to you now. He is giving you another chance to accept Him as your savior before it’s too late. This could possibly even be your last chance. So please don’t put it off.

I love you guys very much and really really appreciate the people who have continued reading this. I’ll be praying for all of you to receive what I’ve told you, and for those who already have, I’ll be praying for you to keep growing in the Lord. Stay strong in the faith my friends! Keep telling the world about Jesus! He’s always right beside us! <3

Also, Here’s a link for a youtube video about Jesus’ death from a medical point of view. It’s a bit more detailed than I was, so please go watch it as well! https://youtu.be/0B3kgiLxybYOn that note, here’s a link I found recently that gives a bunch of videos and written materials from the author of “Cold Case Christianity”. He was someone who used to be an atheist until he started studying the four gospels with his skill of eye-witness-account-scrutiny. After studying the Bible for a few months, He realized that the Bible is, in fact, telling the truth, and ever since then he’s been racing to let the rest of the world know. Please check him out! www.coldcasechristianity.com/resources)

Tag List:  @sasstrashforlike5fandoms  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07  @derbygracie  @pleaseignorejustheretoread

[thesleepysphinx]

Tokoyami x (fem)Reader - Agoraphobic pt. 2: Quoth the raven

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Quoth the raven, nevermore

- Edgar Allan Poe

You stood at the door of Tokoyami’s room, clutching the book in your hands in anxiety. You remembered the day everyone looked at each other’s rooms and how Tokoyami was greatly embarrassed about his. Is it okay for me to knock on his door? But if I don’t, how do I return the book? Will he be upset that someone’s at his door?

Your mind raced with questions, but you pushed them down with a deep breath. You knocked on Tokoyami’s door and waited for all of two seconds before it cracked open. You could see only a sliver of Tokoyami, as he opened the door just enough for you to see most of his face. For a moment, you forgot why you were there, that is until Tokoyami glanced down to see his book in your hands.

“Oh, thank you, (y/n), I didn’t realize I’d forgotten it,” he spoke as he moved his eyes back up to face you. There was a certain softness to his expression that you couldn’t quite pick out because of the feathers.

You held the book out with both hands. “It’s no problem! I forgot I was still holding it to be honest.”

He reached for the book and brushed your fingers with his as he grabbed it. You quickly let go and clasped your hands behind your back, trying not the blush at the accidental contact. His fingers were warm and somewhat rough, but not too rough. You didn’t know why you were so embarrassed deep inside about the contact. You hadn’t really spoken to Tokoyami much until today, so why were you so damn nervous around him now?

Tokoyami’s eyes stayed trained on the book as he kept it in front of him. His eyes still didn’t move as he began to speak again. “I apologize for leaving so abruptly. I hope I didn’t offend you.”

You were taken aback by his apology, as you didn’t really expect one in the first place. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you responded, “Oh, no, it’s fine! I know you don’t really like being around a lot of noisy people. I promise I didn’t take it personally!” You beamed a smile at him as reassurance.

Tokoyami in all honesty didn’t know how to respond. Just like you, he was taken aback, but he was taken aback by your understanding and sincerity. In his experience, most people would tell him to go back downstairs because socializing would be “good for him.” He tended to disagree with them. But here you were, agreeing with him before he even got a chance to tell you his perspective. It was more than refreshing.

Tokoyami raised his eyes to look at you again. “Thank you… Both for returning the book and for your understanding.” He felt an intense admiration for you that was not there before that morning.

You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. “Yeah, like I said, no problem!” You left your hand to linger on the back of your neck as a sudden silence overcame the both of you. As the silence persisted, you could not shake the feeling that you needed to spend more time with Tokoyami. You had an idea, but you didn’t know if it would be too uncomfortable for Tokoyami. But, you thought it was worth a shot.

“Y’know, I’m having a movie marathon with Hagakure and Ojiro later today. If you want, it’d be nice if you came too!”

Tokoyami’s feathers started ruffling as you spoke while you started to feel more embarrassed. But it was too late to back out now.

“It’s just that they get super flirty, and I’d rather not third-wheel.” You started to feel like you were pressuring him. “But don’t feel obligated! I just thought you might enjoy it. We could maybe critique the movies afterwards, like we did with Pride and Prejudice!” You rubbed the crook of your arm in embarrassment, hoping he wasn’t picking up too much on the blood rushing to your face.

Tokoyami’s grip on the book tightened as he watched you. He prayed to whatever god was listening that the ruffling of his feathers was not too noticeable. He, of all people, was being invited to marathon movies? With you? Yes, you said it was because you didn’t want to third-wheel, but at this point, Tokoyami would accept any time he could spend with you. He was becoming infatuated.

You didn’t quite expect Tokoyami’s answer. “That sounds like quite a good time, actually.” His grip tightened even more. “I hope I would not be intruding.”

You laughed at his last comment. “I don’t think it’s intruding if you’re invited, Tokoyami-kun!”

Tokoyami’s feathers ruffled once again at how you called him. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he struggled to respond, but he didn’t have to as you kept talking.

“We won’t start for a bit, so I could text you when we’re about to start if that’s okay with you!” You beamed your smile at him, feeling a bit more confident and comfortable.

But now, it was Tokoyami’s turn to be bold.

“Actually… If you don’t mind, I would like to continue our conversation from before…” He started feeling flustered as he continued. “But, I understand if you have other engagements.”

Your cheeks heated up at his suggestion, but again, his last sentence made you giggle. “I don’t have any engagements before the movie marathon.” You let out another giggle.

Tokoyami adored the giggle as it escaped your lips. It was almost as mesmerizing as your humming earlier.

Heat continued to rush to your cheeks as you kept talking. “I’m assuming you don’t want to go back downstairs for the conversation, so…”

Tokoyami understood what you were trying to say, or rather ask, as he responds, “We can sit in my room, if you’re alright with that, that is.”

You felt your heart beat faster at his suggestion. You were just worrying about him being embarrassed by his room, but here he was inviting you in!

“Are you sure? I know last time we all saw your room you weren’t really comfortable with it…”

Tokoyami opened his door all the way to show the entirety of himself and his room. “It’s much more comfortable if it’s just one person…” He looked off to the side a bit as he considered what he wanted to say. And you’re one person I feel very comfortable with. But, he didn’t want to be too forward with you. He retreated into the room, tinted purple by his mood lighting. He took a seat on his bed as he busied himself with the cover of his book, too anxious about looking back in your direction.

You took a step into the room, getting a better look at it than you did when you first moved in. Back then, Tokoyami had stood in front of the door, trying to block anyone from seeing it. But now, he left the door open. For you.

You find your voice as you ask, “Would you like the door closed?” You asked out of respect for his privacy, but the thought of being alone with him behind closed doors was flustering.

Tokoyami glanced up at you, his eyes shining despite the minimal light. “Ah, yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

You gently closed the door behind you as you kept surveying the aesthetic of the room. “I’m surprised you don’t have a bust in here for the sake of irony.” You laughed at your comment.

“I’m not sure I follow…”

You walked towards an arrangement of books, surveying the titles, as you explained, “The Raven by Poe. I just felt you’d be the kind to find irony in it, since… you know.” You gestured towards his head.

Tokoyami felt his eyes widen and his feathers ruffle once more, hoping the darkness hid the ruffling enough. You knew Poe? He was so pleasantly surprised that he couldn’t comment on your suggestion of a bust.

“I was not aware that you knew Poe.” He took a moment to think. “Though, I probably shouldn’t be surprised. His works are classics themselves.”

“I’d like to think I’m well-read anyways…” You took a seat in Tokoyami’s desk chair that seemed more like a throne than anything else. “Favorite work from him?”

Tokoyami was caught off guard by the question. He didn’t expect you to be so interested in his own interests. He took a hand from his book and held a finger under his beak in thought. No one had ever asked his favorite work by Poe, so he had never had to consider it before. But after a few moments to mull it over, he responds, “The Masque of the Red Death.”

You were surprised by this, but didn’t know why. Maybe you just expected something different. You pulled your feet up onto the chair to hug your knees. “Any particular reason?”

Tokoyami took a breath, keeping his eyes trained on the book in his hands before explaining. “Many that Poe loved were taken by disease. I think he wrote it based on his own experience.” He paused and met your gaze. “Money cannot save you from something that has no use for it.”

You smiled at the philosophical statement. “Quoth the raven.”

Tokoyami closed his eyes and smiled lightly back at you. “It seems you’re not letting go of The Raven. Is that your favorite?”

You took a moment to ponder yourself, but came up with an answer quicker than Tokoyami did. “The Tell-Tale Heart.”

“Ah, yes, that one is brilliant. What is your reasoning for it?”

“Well, I think it has a pretty cool message. No matter how hard you try to hide something, you have to tell the truth eventually.” You felt this message sink into your skin as you spoke it. It sank into Tokoyami’s as well.

Tokoyami pondered the message. “He was trying to hide a murder. Do you think that applies in the real world?”

“If it didn’t apply in the real world, then how would Poe have written about it?”

That question gripped Tokoyami’s heart fiercely. He had never really had anyone to discuss literature with, but here you were, not only discussing it, but analyzing it. Applying it. He had never felt a connection stronger. It took much will power for Tokoyami to calm his heart and come back down to earth. But once he did, he came up with another idea.

“Have you ever read The Black Cat?” Tokoyami questioned you.

You tilted your head in interest. “I don’t think so, but it sounds familiar!” You beamed a smile at him again.

Tokoyami smiled back as he got up from his bed and strode over to his row of books beside you. He replaced Pride and Prejudice in its spot then reached for a book that appeared to be an anthology of all of Poe’s works. He would be the one to have all of his works on hand you thought to yourself. How cute…

He leaned back against his desk, and you got the opportunity to fully observe his side profile. Even under his baggy hoodie, you could tell his body was lean. But you also knew from training that he had toned muscle to go with it. You knew only from the few times Tokoyami pulled back his cloak. He didn’t show off his physique as many of the other boys did. He was much more… reserved.

Tokoyami leafed through the book after a quick glance at the table of contents before landing on a precise page. Upon finding it, he held the book out for you to take. Once you did, he placed his hands behind him on the surface of the desk and asked, “Does the prose look familiar to you?”

You read the first few sentences just to be sure. “It doesn’t, I must have missed this one…” You read a couple more sentences, your curiosity piquing. You looked up from the page back at him. “Now I really have to read it… Would you mind if I borrowed the book?”

Tokoyami felt his heartbeat quicken at the proposition. You wanted to borrow a book from him? He was overjoyed, feeling a smile creep onto his face. The happiness fueled another suggestion of his. “I could read it out loud, if you don’t mind. It’s my second favorite and I would like to read it again.”

A blush formed on your cheeks at his counter-proposal, though he couldn’t see it in the darkness. No one had ever read anything to you except your parents when you were a toddler. The only person who really read to you was you. But now here was Tokoyami with his soft smile, deep voice, and intellectual perspective offering to read to you. You couldn’t say no.

“I don’t mind at all!” you said almost too eagerly. You covered it up with, “You probably have the best voice for reading Poe.” You felt more embarrassed by the addition than the original agreement.

Tokoyami’s smile merely increased with the compliment. Sure, that wouldn’t be considered a compliment to most, but it meant the world to Tokoyami. It meant the world that someone else he knew shared his interests. And because of this, because of you, his anxieties were melting away.

He gently took the book back from your hands, though this time his fingers didn’t brush yours. Oh, how you wish they had. But instead, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as Tokoyami began to read. You had been right in thinking he had the best voice for reading Poe, for as he began, you felt drawn in by his voice as it mixed with the light patter of the rain. The intricate words rolled off his tongue as if they were meant to. Gradually, he lowered himself to sit on the ground to be more comfortable as he read. In turn, you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side so that you could focus on his words. You had never felt so comfortable with someone else before. With your eyes closed, you started to pick up the aroma of the room. The air smelled of burnt and burning candles and faintly of apple pie. They made you sink further into the chair you sat upon, enveloping you just as Tokoyami’s voice was. But as Tokoyami got halfway through the short story, a ding sounded from your phone.

Hagakure 11:23am

Where'd you go? We’re starting soon!! Get over here!!

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Let me know what you guys are thinking so far! I'm gonna keep it really slow-burn, probably to the point where everyone will get frustrated! Stay tuned :)

[lucillebarker]

The section of Sister Golden Hair beginning with "Okay, maybe asking him to brush her hair was that shocking." and ending with “Hard to imagine you with a Mia Farrow cut.”

Wheeeeeeee! This will be fun. This was also pretty long, so go under the cut for the details.

Okay, maybe asking him to brush her hair was that shocking.

I know I mentioned this in the comments on AO3 and elsewhere, but the inspiration for Sister Golden Hair is that never once do you see Jimmy touch Kim’s hair. He doesn’t push it out of her eyes, he doesn’t play with the ends, none of it. I touched on it during lines we cross, but I wanted to delve a little bit deeper into why he wouldn’t do that.

Then on top of that, there are the commentaries for Season 4 where Rhea talked about how the makeup and hair team decided that it would make sense that Jimmy could maybe brush her hair or maybe put it up in a clip or barrette. Hairstyles that were simple, whereas her usual ponytail would have to be done by a professional until her cast was off.

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asked.

No, I’m not sure, Kim thought.

🎵 Trust issues that I wish you saw... 🎵 

This section is one of the reasons that I wrote the sex scene before. So the scene preceding this was a challenging thing and a big risk. When writing M or E fics, the sex scenes tend to go fairly well. (As they should.) So because I was dealing with childhood trauma connected to Kim’s hair, I wanted to write something that moment early in a relationship when someone accidentally forgets the boundaries that were set up. It’s not on purpose—”[Jimmy] would do anything for Kim”—but it’s easy to forget yourself and go back into a routine that had been built with other partners.

But I really wanted to emphasize on how big a step this was for Kim. How she can go from fighting off panic in what is meant to be an intimate moment, to confronting it head on in a new form of intimacy.

The pain medication barely numbed the excruciating pain in her arm, so the muscles in her neck and back were doing their best to tense up. The acid in her stomach felt like it was boiling. It was not always painful experience when her mother stroked her hair. That was the problem. She couldn’t predict what her mother would do. Her mother was capable of kissing the tail of the braid she had made in Kim’s hair. She was also capable of screaming at Kim, slurring her words as she dragged Kim out of multiple homes before multiple landlords called the police. 

Kim is in literal and emotional pain, and she is trying to numb it in anyway she can. And the worst thing about pain and emotions is that they are unpredictable. So Kim can take all of the medication she needs, but there will be nausea. She can stave off these memories, but they are built into her body as protective reactions. And it all comes from this unpredictable, chaotic nature of her mom. 

Kim buried Nebraska away like Edgar Allan Poe’s Cask of Amontillado. Her past was always screaming at her and banging against the stone wall she had encased it in. She’d be stupid not to notice that it was finding it’s way out, blood-stained chips of rock on the floor of her mind.

This is a reference to the Kim that we’ve started to see over the course of Season 4 and 5. She’s starting to get more emotional and she can’t keep everything locked away as tightly anymore. Also, I loved the Cask of Amontillado as a kid, and I love that horrific image of someone or something desperate enough to scratch at stone to get out.

Kim waved her hairbrush like a little white flag. If this was giving up, at least it was on her terms.

Again, a woman that hates giving up control deems asking for help as defeat. Definitely not relatable. At all. Who would ever—?

Jimmy stepped behind her and took hold of the handle. His gaze flicked between the brush and her gaze in the mirror.

“Just to be clear,” he warned, “I don't know what I'm doing.”

As I mentioned in one of my other writing asks, Jimmy and Kim deflect with humor. Honest humor, but still humor.

He placed it against her head and it immediately snagged in a mess of hair, causing her to hiss as he pulled the brush out.

“Sorry,” he grimaced.

Kim shook her head. “It’s okay. Start at the ends first and then work your way up.”

There’s plenty of media showing cisgender men with sisters or daughters knowing how to brush hair. Jimmy McGill does not know how to do that. Growing up in Cicero during the 70′s as one of two boys? Oh no. And Mama McGill never had long hair because she is a Gwen Verdon lookalike.

Jimmy tried again, following her instructions and combing through the the ends of her hair. Kim closed her eyes as the brush moved upwards. The bristles gently scraped against her scalp in slow movements. A quiet moan escaped her, and Kim breathed in. She could not fully let go of her tension, but her muscles relaxed bit by bit with every soft exhale. 

Writing description isn’t my favorite because my standards are too high, but I loved writing this. There is something so soothing about brushing your hair. Then I had to have Kim deal with these dueling emotions of enjoying it and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Breathing steadily and focusing on that allows her to relax and trust Jimmy a little more.

She had to admit it. This was pretty nice.

“Is it?”

Kim opened one eye. Jimmy was smirking at her. “I said that out loud, huh?”

“Yep.”

Distracted + drugged up on Vicodin = romantic comedy. 👍🏻 

She shrugged. “Yeah, it feels nice.”

“Glad I’m doing something right.”

This is a great reminder that this happens after Chuck told Jimmy that he was just going to keep hurting people and that he “didn’t matter all that much” to Chuck. So compound that with all of that guilt about Kim’s car accident, what he did to Mrs. Landry, and you’ve got a nice loaded statement under the surface of a joke.

For all of his bluster and showboating, Jimmy was tender with her. His touch on her shoulder was soft, as if a firmer grip could break her. As if anything could break her after all she’d been through.

Another loaded statement, this is both about Kim’s past and the fact that she almost died in a car accident. It’s not necessarily that she thinks she’s invincible—she’s just experienced at gluing the pieces back together. And Jimmy treating her with the tenderness of something that he could have lost is also a great contrast for the chaos tornado that is Saul Goodman.

“Did you ever have short hair?” Jimmy asked. “Or have you always kept it long?”

This was inspired by one of Rhea’s older headshots. I couldn’t not write it into this story, but I wanted to make it a little more extreme.

“I cut it once. I was sixteen. I didn’t even go to the local beauty school, I did it myself. I went nuts and cut it super short...” Kim raised her eyebrows as she clarified, “Rosemary’s Baby short.”

As soon as I wrote this, I had to write the flashback that followed it. I didn’t plan to write another Red Cloud flashback, but I wanted to see Kim rebel. And that’s how you got Kim saw off a hair sprayed ponytail at her high school. ❤️ 

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

Kim chuckled. “My mom was pretty mad.”

“Hard to imagine you with a Mia Farrow cut.”

I don’t like this idea of Jimmy wondering “Who is Kim?” I mean, obviously there’s gotta be some mystery there. But he at least knows some things. I can’t imagine Kim not mentioning her mom ever, or growing up in Nebraska ever. He’s been her only friend and he’s the love of her life. That said, there are some questions that do slip through the cracks and result in surprise—short hair cuts, telling drunk dudes to howl at the moon during sex, cello practice, pinky rings from Cicero, etc.

[datura-foxglove]

Red Dream (Dazatsu Halloween Day 1)

Rating : T

Trigger warning : blood, implied/referenced suicide, ambiguous/open ending, implied/referenced character death.

Prompts : A combination of Divination and the quote “It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night."   —The Tell-Tale Heart, by Edgar Allan Poe 

Summary : As soulmates, Dazai and Atsushi shared a recurring dream. A premonition of how they would meet. A divination given to them by the gods so they could find one another. To Dazai’s delight and Atsushi’s horror, it’s a dream where Atsushi killed Dazai. Again and again, they dream... until the day they finally meet.

A dream. A red string.

Two fates being interwoven with each other.

Two souls longing to become one.

.

A walkway covered in red. The crisp sounds of the crushed maple leaves as his feet stepped on them. He walked, walked along the red path. His wrists were bound with a red silk, the other end grasped tightly by a shadow wearing human skin and clothing leading him further and further.

To where? He didn’t know. There was nothing inside this darkness except for the faceless man, the walkway painted in red, and himself.

Who was he? A name… did he have one? If he concentrated really hard, he could faintly remember someone calling him. A voice so dear, a name precious only because that person always called him so fondly, a face blurred by his own tears.

A red torii gate loomed in front of him. Red, just like the maple leaves scattered on the path he treaded on. Red, just like the silk binding his limbs. Red, just like blood—

A roar of a beast spooked him. He flinched, collapsing to his knees and cowering into a little ball. His whole body trembled, but his eyes were glued to the red torii gate. The shadow of a man pulled at the silk and he cried out. He tried to dig his fingers and feet to the ground, but with uncanny strength the faceless man continued on dragging him with little to no effort. The void of peace within his heart was shattered as he got closer and closer to the gate, the emptiness was slowly filled with buckets of dread that drowned him.

He mustn’t. He mustn’t cross the gate. If he did. When he did.

Then he would have to kill again.

.

A bird was trapped within a cage, it’s wings broken.

Still, the bird sang. A solemn, yet beautiful sound.

A song of freedom. A song of longing.

The bird continued to sing. It waited and waited within the cage.

Even when corpses continued to pile up outside of it.

.

He saw the same dream, again and again.

A dream of him killing someone.

But instead of guilt and horror, all that he felt was peace and content.

Or maybe he could only felt that way because of the expression of the man he murdered in his dream.

Those beautiful and warm brown eyes closed in serenity. The way his breath stuttered and shortened as his hands tightened around that frail neck. A smile as that person whispered his murderer’s name for the final time with nothing but adoration and gratitude.

Atsushi woke up and cried.

.

“It’s truly a bizarre thing, isn’t it?” a clack of ice inside the glass of poison, a childish voice whispering in awe. “Soulmates, I mean.”

“Have you met yours, Dazai?” his dear best friend asked and he could only chuckle.

“I have, countless times in my dream.” He wondered if it’s the alcohol or his own idealism that made red colored his cheeks. “He killed me, countless times. Isn’t he wonderful?”

“That’s… probably not what people think of when they dream of their soulmates killing them.” His other friend sighed and looked at him weirdly. “But somehow it fits you.”

“He is so gentle too with his hands. A clean and painless death… I think I’m swooning.” He plopped down on the counter and pouted. “Why won’t he come to me already…”

“Why not search for him? You remember how he looks, right?”

“Odasaku, you are a genius!”

“Odasaku-san, please don’t enable him!”

.

He had read about it from the dusty books in the library of the orphanage. Tales of soulmates guided to each other by red strings that would never break. Atsushi would look at his pinky and wondered if his string was connected to someone. Yet a string felt wrong, for a weak string wouldn’t be able to drag him away from his hell. He wondered if it wasn’t a string, but a strong red silk that bound him to his soulmate. A long silk that was even redder than the maple leaves around him.

The next time he dreamt, the faceless man was no longer there. The red silk that bound his wrists was still there, only now it fluttered in the air like a trail of fire that led to the torii gate. He felt a gentle tug from the other end of the silk, and Atsushi obediently followed.

He had the same dream so many times that Atsushi remembered the details even after he woke up. A pathway of red, a red torii, stairs made from white stone that lead him up and up, a second torii gate, and finally, the man who always waited for him. Seated on a flat stone encircled with sacred ropes. The young man with chocolate hair and warm eyes would always greet him with outstretched arms, no matter how many times Atsushi killed him.

“Hurry…” the man would whisper as Atsushi sank into his warm and gentle embrace. “Hurry and come. I’m waiting.”

.

A lovely bird sang the melody of death.

Corpses piled up around the cage.

The stench of rot and beautiful song attracted a beast.

The tiger’s yellow eyes watch over it’s prey.

Yet the bird showed no fear.

It chirped at the beast to come closer.

Enthralled by the beautiful voice, it did.

.

Atsushi only watched as the person who had always tortured him bound him to the cell. If the man was weirded out by his submissiveness, he didn’t say anything and just left him alone in the dark. There was no window in the basement where he was locked up, but Atsushi knew the moon was close to full. A growl resounded within the harsh and cold basement and it took Atsushi only a moment to recognize it came from him.

“Hurry…” his voice wasn’t that much different from growls of a beast now. “Hurry… to his side…”

The beast within him roared in impatience. It clawed at the floors and the walls, seeking freedom to run and leap. To where the bird was singing. To the other half of his soul.

.

When the full moon hung in the sky granted it’s blessing towards it’s beloved, a beast tore apart it’s cage and escaped. It roared it’s joy of freedom and longing, an echo of a young boy’s cry of happiness. The beast never returned to it’s captivity.

Drowned in the crimson of sunset and blood, once again the bird sang the song of death. The cage’s door was finally opened and the bird leaped outside of the cage with it’s broken wings. No one managed to catch it again as it rained death upon all.

.

Atsushi followed a pathway of red, though instead of the crunchy sounds he was familiar with now he could only hear splashes of thick liquid that he stepped on.

A red gate. Though instead of the sacred torii, now the gate was red from the blood splattered around it.

A stairway of white stones. Atsushi was relieved when instead of stairs, he only needed to press a button to get to his destination.

Another red gate. Another massacre.

Atsushi could feel his thunderous heartbeat. His heart beat in time with the gentle tug he could feel from around his wrists and he followed it just like every other time in his dreams. Screams of terror and pleas of help went unheard as Atsushi made his way through the pile of corpses that crunched under his paws like the maple leaves in his dreams.

Paws? Shouldn’t it be feet?

But it didn’t matter. Everything didn’t matter, because right now the tugging had led him to this place. His final destination. Just like in his dream, that man was waiting for him. Seated on a big dark table instead of flat stone encircled with sacred rope, like a sacrifice to appease the beast that devoured humanity.

‘Ah, finally.’ The tiger chuffed, it’s tail swayed lazily behind him to reflect Atsushi’s happiness. ‘I found you.’

The young man gazed at him with so much warmth that all of Atsushi’s exhaustion and apprehension melted. Like always, he outstretched his arms to greet him. “You have kept me waiting.”

The tiger pounced, but the moment they touched it’s form unravel into a young boy. Barely a teenager. Like an overgrown cat, Atsushi snuggled closer to his soulmate, ignoring the blood that smeared his face from his soulmate’s bloody black suit. The young boy almost purred from the warmth that he had sorely longed for, the human touch without pain that he had been deprived of since he was born. Now, to get it from his soulmate was more than enough to sooth his tattered heart.

The young man chuckled at the affectionate gesture and embraced his young soulmate tighter. “Your name, sweetheart?”

“Atsushi. Nakajima Atsushi.” Atsushi’s face was flushed from the nickname, but he tilted his face upwards without shame. “Yours?”

“Dazai Osamu.” Dazai whispered as he left an adoring kiss on Atsushi’s forehead. “Now Atsushi-kun… will you grant my wish?” he slowly took Atsushi’s much smaller hands and led it to his neck.

Atsushi’s instinct and habit from his dream made him tightened his grip on Dazai’s neck, which only made Dazai’s eyes fluttered and the corner of his lips twitched up in a relieved smile.

“Will it make you happy?”

“Happy?” Dazai muttered aloud, looking really relaxed like he wasn’t about to be strangled by his own soulmate. “I guess I will. At least I won’t have to live in this never ending nightmare anymore.”

“Nightmare?” Atsushi slowly pushed Dazai down, so he could better grasp Dazai’s neck. Dazai was laying down on the table without any worry for his life, even with Atsushi straddling his chest only made it even harder to breathe.

“Isn’t this life a nightmare, Atsushi-kun?” Dazai gently stroked Atsushi’s thin cheeks. Way thinner than children should be. His ragged clothing and the mark of chains around his neck and wrists also told Dazai of Atsushi’s own hell. “Our shared dreams are my only salvation. To share this most intimate moment with my own soulmate, isn’t that the most beautiful suicide?”

“Isn’t it scary, to die? I’ve always only wanted to live.”

What kind of life his soulmate had that he sought for death so much that it became their shared dream? Atsushi wanted to know. He wanted to understand. But at the same time his fingers tightened more around Dazai’s neck. When one of the soulmate dies, their souls would become one. The lonely part of him cried out for his other half to return within him, to repair his broken heart and soul. To became one and became better than the useless and unwanted existence he was right now. Once their souls joined, it would be impossible to separate them. They would be together forever, untouched even by death.

The tighter Atsushi’s hands choked his throat, the more peace shown on Dazai’s expression. “Then I will become one with you and watch over that life you struggled for, Atsushi-kun.” Atsushi frowned when Dazai’s warm eyes closed. “Maybe then… I can finally understand…”

Atsushi’s heartbeat became louder and louder, until it was the only thing he could heard other than Dazai’s weakened last breaths. Dazai’s limbs twitched, the last desperate attempt for survival of his own body, but Dazai forcefully kept them away from Atsushi. The tiger had the bird between it’s claws, the last thing it need to devour the poor soul was to bite down at it’s neck. To silence the bird’s song of death forever while it stared at the sky it would never reach.

When it’s over, Atsushi’s cries were accompanied by a tiger’s roar.

.

The bird would never again sing a melody of death.

Instead, now the tiger roared to the moon.

A song of life, a song of love.

For the bird now had finally soared in the sky.

.

The death of Mori Ōgai and the subsequent destruction of Port Mafia was the only thing people talked, despite not making it to the official news. For a while, Yokohama undergone a great uproar as other organizations tried to climb over each other to be the successor of the throne the Port Mafia had left behind, at least until the government deployed their own army to stomp upon this fire of chaos as soon as possible.

The cause of Port Mafia’s destruction was unknown. A few former members and survivors said that it’s the betrayal of the prodigy and youngest ever Executive, Dazai Osamu. Some others though, said that it’s the sudden appearance of a white tiger. Dazai Osamu went missing, leaving behind only his overcoat that he always wore on his shoulder on the room where the corpse of Akutagawa Ryūnosuke and Mori Ōgai was found. No proof of white tiger ever appeared, so people just chalked it up to hallucination due to the traumatic events. Still, those that had seen the white tiger continued to fear for it, that the white tiger became a folklore among the mafia.

“See, Atsushi-kun? You have become a legend!” Dazai chuckled as he told the tales to Atsushi, who grumpily ignored him. “If only they know how the ferocious white tiger is no more than overgrown cat that is easily bribed by ochazuke and kicked in his sleep despite hogging the sunny spots.”

“Dazai-san, say goodbye to the seafood dinner tonight.” Atsushi fumbled with the brand new tie he had bought for the interview today. The more he tried, the more it looked like a mess of knots instead.

“Atsushi-kun, I’m sorry! Please don’t take away the crab!” Dazai pouted and draped himself over Atsushi’s shoulders. The younger boy just grunted and relented the tie as Dazai’s nimble fingers undo the knots and easily repaired it to the perfect tie it should look like.

He didn’t have time to thank Dazai when he heard a knock on his door. “Room service.”

“Ah, yes.” Atsushi opened the door and let the bellboy rolled the cart with his breakfast inside the room. Atsushi gave the man his tips, but the way the man looked around confused him. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing! It’s just, I thought I heard you talking with someone.”

Atsushi glanced to his soulmate, but Dazai only put his finger above his lips.

The bellboy, clearly a new worker, was quick to shut his mouth and quickly walked out. “Please forgive my rudeness and enjoy your meal!” the moment the door was closed and they could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps, Dazai’s solemn expression vanished and replaced with giddiness.

“Quick, Atsushi-kun! You have to eat!” Dazai smiled brightly as he opened the cover for Atsushi’s breakfast. “Today is a brand new day for your struggle, isn’t it?”

“I wonder if the Agency will accept us.” Atsushi sat down next to Dazai, who seemed content in just watching Atsushi ate.

“It’s you, Atsushi-kun, I’m sure you will be fine.”

“Us, Dazai-san.” Atsushi took Dazai’s hand in his. Dazai only blinked when Atsushi continued. “We will always be together.”

“Oh, that’s true.” Dazai smiled warmly and returned the hold. “We are one now, aren’t we?”

Atsushi hummed in agreement as Dazai brushed his hair away from his face. “I will never leave you, Dazai-san.”

.

The bird and the tiger sing a harmonious melody.

Yet no one could hear it but themselves.

It’s a song only for the two of them.

Forever together.

[kurara-black-blog]

Nevermore

Date: 13/08/18

Words: 1376

Warnings: Langst, Shance, a bit gorey, it’s an horror, the poem is The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. It’s connected to A Story Told, but can be read alone. Shiro is losing his fucking mind.

Tag: @moonsworllld​

Shiro could hear they whisper. The poison leaving their lips, the fear clouding their eyes, the pity filling their minds. He hated it. He hated it. He wanted them to stop. He was tired of them. He was sick of them. He wanted them to leave. He wanted them to die. He wanted them to die by his own hands.

“Shiro?” Hunk’s voice was a blessing in the middle of the whispers.

“I am fine, Hunk.”

Shiro could see the pain in his friend’s eyes. He could see the pain in his team’s eyes. He didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to hate their eyes. He couldn’t help it. He hated the hurt reflected on their eyes. He wanted to run from it. He wanted to rip them out of their sockets. He hated that he felt that way. He hated that he found comfort on the sick fantasy of seeing them, his team, with no eyes.

“Please, go and relax. We’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

Raising an army from the ground to fight the galra was not an easy task, the tiredness in Allura’s voice made it all obvious. The aliens—the allies left the meeting room quickly, shooting glances of empathy towards the paladins, until only the Voltron team was there. They looked horrible. Hunk had lost a lot of weight and looked really pale—was he starving himself?—, Pidge looked ready to break the next deep breath—did she ever had any intention of stopping crying?—, Allura’s mind and soul were far away everyday—somewhere no one could ever bring her back from—, Coran had abandoned himself—he looked like grief—and Keith… Keith had pure desire in his eyes—a pure, burning desire to just stop existing.

Shiro was sure he didn’t looked any better.

Dismissed the team, he immediately made his way to Lance’s room. He had held himself back for long enough for the team. He was tired. He wanted to curl up in a soft bed and cry. He didn’t look back, but he knew the others wouldn’t follow him. They all had their chance to go to Lance’s room. Now it was his turn.

Entering the boy’s room, the first thing he noticed was how it wasn’t tidy. At all. Good. No one tried to change the room. It would look so wrong. So wrong, so lifeless. So not like Lance. Takashi closed the door, locked it, and threw himself on the bed. He landed on top of a book. Edgar Allan Poe. The man vaguely remembered finding a small amount of Earth books in one of those Earth stores. Oh, Lance had insisted on reading every single one, even the horror ones. Lance wasn’t a big fan of horror, but if it made him feel closer to his planet, then he drank the words like a thirsty man in the desert.

Takashi remembered cuddling with the boy in the same bed and listening to him reading the tales aloud. The Raven had been the last thing Lance read to him.

Shiro read the first verse, and then the next, and then the next. If he concentrated enough, he found, he could hear the Cuban’s voice reciting the haunting words of a dead poet.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-

Only this, and nothing more."

“Of all the books you could find in this vast universe, you find just a horror one?” Lance teased, “Isn’t our life scary enough for you, big cat?”

“Of all the people I could get to read to me in this vast universe, I just had to ask the one who’s going to complain every few paragraphs,” Shiro chuckled, bringing the brunette closer, “Just read the book, sharpshooter.”

“Don’t come whining to me when you get nightmares.”

“I won’t get nightmares as long you’re with me.”

Shiro sighed contently, burying his nose on the other’s short hair. His fingers digging the soft skin that peeked out of the shirt, brushing patterns on a blank canvas. His lips curved in a small happy smile. He was in peace. There was no war, no enemies, no pain, no death. There only was he and his boy. He and his boy.

“And what if I am the nightmare?”

Snapping his eyes open, the leader of Voltron stared at the body in his arms. Blood. Red. Warm. Coming out of Lance’s mouth. Coming out of the ugly injury in his stomach. So much blood. So warm. So real. Blue eyes, bluest blue, unfocused. Glaring at the nothingness of Death. Body limp, getting colder and colder. Shiro immediately tried to let go of that- that thing, that corpse. However, the long fingers of the other paladin didn’t let him go far. Nails dug into Shiro’s arm and shoulder, breaking skin, making his blood run down his flesh. The glazed eyes stared fixedly at his own, they did not shine, but they did burn with disdain.

“Some hero you are, Shirogane. Couldn’t even save a simple boy.”

That voice was not his Lance’s. It was filled with hatred. Bitterness. The mouth opened more, more blood spouting out. The always so white teeth were bloodied. Tears started to run down the boy’s face. Shiro was bleeding together with him.

“Why didn’t you save me, Takashi? Why weren’t you there? What kind of hero are you?”

“I tried! I tried so much, Lance, I tried!”

Sobs wrecking his chest, the Japanese man knew he should feel scared. He knew something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Lance would never. Shiro did his best. Shiro tried and tried and tried and Lance would be able to recognize it because Lance knows the feeling of trying. Lance would’ve understood. Lance would’ve comforted him. Lance would’ve told him it was not his fault. Takashi should’ve been terrified. However, his guilty had a louder voice.

“You can’t even save a boy you love! You’re no hero, Takashi, you’re the one who should be dead!”

Together with Shiro’s guilty, Lance screamed, his voice taking an almost demonic pitch. Lance’s fingers were so deep in the flesh of his arm and shoulder, suddenly nails found bones. The older man screamed with the pain. He could feel the other slow but surely tear apart his flesh, warm blood falling like a waterfall. He screamed, he howled, he begged. Please, stop. Please, no more. Please, no more. Please, no more. No more!

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

“Takashi? Takashi, wake up!”

With a last terrified scream, Shiro sat up on the bed. He felt long fingers caress his face, looking at his side he could see Lance’s—his Lance’s—worried expression. The gentle blue eyes—bluest blue—were lively shining. No blood. No tears. No death. Only his boy and himself, in a room, on a bed, with a book. Takashi did not waste time on hugging the other tightly and quickly laying back on the bed.

“Please, just let’s stay like this for a bit.”

“Okay, don’t tell me about your nightmares nor let me finish the poem, then.” Shiro could feel Lance’s eyes rolling in his skull. “Good night, hero.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted- nevermore!

Shiro opened his eyes. Edgar Allan Poe’s poem stared back.

The bed was empty.

There was no one.

Nevermore.

[fromsolaria-archived]

random tags i forgot about