#NEED TO STOP LISTENING TO JUDAS TO THIS MAN LIKE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkstarlet · 1 month ago

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Fallen Stone: The Fallen

Meanwhile, at the same time. Shilo stands before her class as she teaches them about the betrayal of Jesus. She was lucky enough to make it in time, afraid she would be late. As soon as she arrived, she headed straight to her classroom and started the lessons for her little angels.

“When Judas arrived, only with him was a group of priests, soldiers, and leaders carrying swords, surrounding Jesus and his disciples.” Shilo discussed the class while she wrote the names of the priests and leaders on the chalkboard. “They have him bound and dragged away in chains while Judas was paid for his action.” She added, looking at the students in their seats and listening to her. She stopped, having their full attention on her. “Only the next day, Jesus was sentenced to death. Up on the very cross that he was bound to.”

She pointed at a cross on the back of the room, causing the students to look at it, amazed and in awe. She smiled at how mature they reacted. She could imagine their reaction when she taught them about extermination.

A young angel girl turns to face Shilo. “How can he do that? Betraying the man who had been nothing but kind to him?” She asked her.

Shilo softly smiled, placing her chalk on her desk. “Judas has been driven by an awful sin of greed.” She explained. “His greed made him turn against everything Jesus stands for and how he behaves around others.”

“Whatever happened to Judas?” Marcus asked, raising his hand.

“Guilty over his sin, he was said to hang himself to death,” Shilo revealed. And she would most likely guess he is in Hell thanks to his sin and act of suicide.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Serve him right.” She scoffed.

“Now, now.” Shilo shook her head, not taking Lilly’s attitude very lightly. She walked to her desk while talking to the students. “We mustn’t react so harshly, no matter their sins.” She leaned against the surface, her hands spread to the surface. “It is why Jesus had allowed the soldiers to take him and kill him because he knew we could choose to do the right thing and let him forgive us.”

“Even traitors like Judas?” Aaron pondered.

Shilo nodded. “He knew it would happen during his final meal," she revealed. She hopes that in Heaven, they can learn to forgive sinners, welcome them with open arms, and give them a second chance to be cleansed of their sins. “He knew it was God’s plan and allowed it.” She smiled softly. She inhales in and out as she gets off her desk. “Now, can anyone tell me—“

But then she was interrupted when a knock was heard on the door. She turned her focus on the door. “We’re learning here," she called out, hoping they would understand and return when class was finished.

Instead, the door opens, and Raphael steps in. His arrival caught the student’s attention, and excitement reached in. They never thought one of the archangels would visit them during class. “Raphael!” The heavenborns all cheered and clapped happily.

Hearing their cheers, Raphael focused on the students and smiled with a chuckle. “Hello there, young angels.” He greeted them with a proud smile. “I can see you are all learning well. It fills my soul to see such knowledgeable students.” He added, straightening his suit.

But Shilo, on the other hand, was not happy seeing him. She was hoping after showing Camael her research, she would be brave enough to go against the archangels. But instead, he came in during her job. She straightened herself and stood professionally. “What brings you here?” She asked Raphael.

He turned to face her, his eyes hard and stern. “Can you come with me, please?" he asked her.

“But I can’t leave my job now.” Shilo testified to him. She couldn’t leave her job while still on schedule and needed time to get ready to meet Pentious.

“Not to worry.” Raphael shook his head, waving his hand at her. “I sent in a substitute for your position," he informed her. His eyes still held their hardness and sternness.

Shilo blinked, finding this very unexpected, without a word from Camael. But she can’t argue with an archangel, especially in the same room with the heavenborns. “Uh... okay.” She started to get unsure. She faced the students. “Okay, class. I would like you to write a ten-paragraph essay about Passover.” She assigned them a task.

“Yes, Ms. Winterstone.” The heavenborns all nodded just as Shilo and Raphael left the room.

Once the two are outside and inside the hallway, she can see Raphael’s back facing her. It raises some suspicions in her. He knew that Shilo’s job was necessary, and they needed her to do her task. Yet to pull her out and set a substitute in her place when she rarely allows one to take her task.

“Raphael? What is going on?” She asked him, wanting to get this over with and return to work.

But the moment Raphael turned around to face her, she could sense an air of dread filling the hallway. His eyes were cold and glaring down on her with a disapproving frown. “Care to explain this?” He questioned her as he pulled out something from inside his suit.

Shilo let out a frightened gasp. In his hands was Shilo’s binder with her research in it. Her eyes widened in horror. “How did you get that?” She whispered, afraid to raise her voice.

How did he manage to get into her attic and find it? Unless he went to her place, broke in, and found the entrance to her secret sanctuary. Her heart was pounding hard against her chest, and time was slowly ticking around her. The world around her stopped moving, and only she and Raphael were left moving.

“Shilo Winterstone of Perseverance,” Raphael spoke firmly, disappointed in her. “You are hereby sentenced for trial.”

Shilo’s breath froze in horror; his words echoed in her mind. Her on trial? At that very moment, her future is on the line, and she can only hope they will understand her reasons and why she did it. If not, life in Heaven will be over for her.

~*~

In the angelic courtroom, Shilo stands in the middle before Sera, Emily, and the archangels in their seats. Standing by the doorway are Lute and two exorcist angels with angelic weapons. They all stare down at her, judging her. But she does not give them the satisfaction that they are weighing her down with their stares. The last time she witnessed a trial was when she watched Lucifer and Lilith in the same room for their attempt at spreading free will.

She stares down at her hands, all bare and not needing any angelic chains to stop her powers. Her powers weren’t much of a threat when she was only good at making snow and frost that never harmed a soul. Most likely, they would just talk to her and discuss her actions. Her eyes moved up as she spotted Emily staring down at her with a sad and concerned frown; it caused her to look away, not wanting to see the sad eyes of her favorite student. Which to her is pretty ironic since she shows the same sad eyes at Lucifer.

Michael stands up, glaring down at Shilo. “How could you?” He sneered in distrust. “After I told you to avoid the topic of the extermination and forget those sinners?” He mentioned the order he gave her to not fuss over it.

Shilo lifted her head to face him. “How can I forget when I know everything and know what you are all about?" she questioned. “We always tell each other’s secrets, yet this is one you never told me.”

“Because only I, my brothers, and Sera know about this!” Michael yelled, wings spread open in anger.

“And you never thought to tell Emily of this either?!” Shilo yelled back, her own wings open in anger.

“Enough!!” Sera bellowed loudly, and her yell echoed through the empty room. Once everyone had quieted down, she inhaled in and slowly out. “Ms. Winterstone, over the following months, you have been storing private property for yourself and got involved with something that should not be your concern.” She listed Shilo’s actions. “What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked.

Shilo scoffed. “I am not ashamed of my crime,” she replied without hesitation or regret. She glared at the angels above her. “What you all are doing is horrible and, above all, senseless,” she added.

Uriel then stood from his seat, eyes filled with anger and disapproval. “Senseless!? You called trying to protect Heaven horrible and senseless!?” He fumed, not liking Shilo’s point of view.

“Protect Heaven from what?! An uprising attack because of fear!?” Shilo implied with a raised voice. She stepped, nearly causing the exorcists to flinch and almost move. “It seems to me that Hell could care less about trying to invade Heaven! All they are doing is trying to live their afterlife, not caring about us!!”

“You don’t know that!” Michael bellowed. “How can you think they wouldn’t bother to try to come together and rise against us?!” He questioned her.

Gabriel sinks down in his seat, fidgeting with his fingers. “well…” he mumbled.

It caught Uriel’s attention as he saw his brother shrinking in his seat and looking guilty. He turned his attention to Gabriel. “Gabriel? You got something to share?” he asked him.

“Well…” Gabriel mumbled uncertainty.

“We told her about Lilith,” Azrael answered for Gabriel.

And that drew Michael’s attention to the two angels, eyes in a blind fury and rage. “You what?!” he shouted. Of all the angels who told Shilo of the woman who had stolen Lucifer from him and became a thorn in his side, it had to be Gabriel and the two.

“And... I might have told her about the pardoning.” Jophiel stepped in nervously, smiling nervously.

Michael groaned, rubbing his face in irritation. “You idiots!!” he yelled. He will have to deal with the three later after this.

“Don’t blame them; they are at fault as you all are!” Shilo rolled her arms, her arms crossed while glaring at them.

Raphael blinked, taken aback by her choice of words. “In fault? For trying to do the right thing?!” he bellowed down.

“What’s the right thing about killing sinners?!” Shilo yelled, questioning them. “You all told me that obeying the laws of God and giving them the same treatment is important!” She pointed out the lessons they had taught her about being kind to all and treating them the same way.

“To angels!” Uriel explained, snarling down at her for taking their words so seriously. “Not filthy sinners who refuse to give a damn about the lord!!”

“Like you!!” Shilo shouted so loud that the room was filled with her echoes. Then, the floor under her formed a frost patch, sensing her anger. The exorcists were ready to hold her down, but Michael motioned them to halt.

The room had grown silent after the echoes faded away. Shilo’s frustration filled the courtroom and felt so thick a single knife could have cut it through. They can understand that she is upset that she was lied to and confused as well; it was their fault for sheltering her until she was suffocating and struggling to break through—perhaps too sheltering. But she is just a virtue, part of the second rank of the angelic heritage. Only the third-rank angels know of Heaven’s darkest secrets.

“Killing sinners isn’t going to stop anything; putting new ones down there isn't helping!” Shilo confided, hoping to find a slight expression of compassion from them. “You are putting them down there just to kill them all over again! It’s tiring and a waste of time!” she frowned.

Raphael returns to his seat, staring down at her with crossed arms. “Well, do you have other better options to stop the uprising?” He challenged her to come up with an excuse to save her wings.

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Shilo nodded. The frost under her began to melt. She cleared her throat and began. “We could put the new souls in therapy, understanding what drives them to death and helping them get better, or send them down to earth to have a second chance in life.” She suggested her ideas. “Everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. Death is not the answer.”

Emily smiled at her ideas. They all sounded like they could be helpful, and Heaven could try to play its part in saving more souls.

“Therapy? Reincarnation?” Uriel sneered, shaking his head. “Even if we tried them, they wouldn’t help our situation. Some evil souls refuse help and rather give in to temptation.” He speculated, not believing they could work. “You are being naive and childish on a silly fantasy.”

Shilo blinked, not believing what he was trying to tell her. She tried to devise a better argument to win until she remembered this morning: “What about Pentious? Our new arrival?” she asked them. “He was a sinner till he was finally redeemed and returned to Heaven. Does that prove anything?”

“He may have gotten through our judgment test out of luck, but it’s hardly worth anything.” Raphael disclaimed it. “He is a sinner and will always be a sinner. He will never be like us, and that will never change anything. And if more sinners dare come to Heaven, they will face the exorcist blade.”

Jophiel sighed sadly. “I’m sorry, Blue Star, but he is right.” They admitted, agreeing with Raphael. “It won’t change anything.”

At that very moment, Shilo stopped breathing. She thought they would understand her, her ideas, and her dreams, only to find they were blocking her words from their ears. “So... you are going to keep killing sinners?” She asked them, not wanting to believe it was true.

“Anything to protect Heaven. And to protect you.” Michael concluded, confirming everything they were trying to tell her.

Shilo could barely contain herself as she bowed and looked down to avoid seeing their eyes. She closed her eyes as tears formed and rolled down her cheeks. After months of finding the answers, looking for alternative solutions, and hoping her goal was enough to spark some hope, the archangels threw it back in her face and still went with removing more sinners. She had hoped they would accept this but never gave it a try. They will still lie to the angels and hide everything they worked on. She softly cried, wrapping her arms around her biceps.

“Please understand this, angel. It’s for your own good and for everyone’s sake.” Michael assured her, flying off his seat and floating down to reach her. “We can forget this and move on; never tell a soul about this,” he added, landing in front of her. “Just repent your actions, apologize, and everything will return to normal.” He suggested, smiling at her.

“Counting the years, keeping my dreams to myself.” Michael sings to her like he always has to distract her. “Till a young girl with fire made me trust somebody else.”

He reaches out and brushes her long bangs off her tear-filled eyes. “Held my hand out, and I let her take me. Blind as a child.” Then he softly brushes the tears off her cheeks, ignoring her distress. “All I saw was the way that she made me smile. She made me smile.”

He then took her hands, holding them tightly. “Shilo, when I was young, I used to call your name.” He sang to her, smiling softly with love in his eyes. “When no one else would come. Shilo, you always came—"

But then Shilo violently ripped her hands away from his, breaking them from his grip with an angry growl. She lifted her head up, facing him with a teary face and betrayal and hate in her eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me the truth? Hard to believe the things you say.” She then started singing, glaring at him. “Why can’t you feel the tears I cry today? Cry today, cry today.” She flew up and away from him, hatred clouding her eyes. “How do you win if we all lose? You change the facts to justify.” She spread her arms open. “Your lips move, but your words get in the way. In the way, in the way.”

“Kings and queens, crooks and thieves. You don’t see the forest for the trees.” She sings her pain out, everything she held back. “head and heart, on our knees. You can’t see what we all see.”

She flew before the archangels and Sera, narrowing her eyes at them. “How do you sleep when the world keeps turning? All that we built has come undone," she sang to them. “How do you sleep when the world is burning? Everyone answers to someone.” After eons of living in their lies, she is done now. “Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me. Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me.”

Shilo turned her focus to the orb in the middle. Flashes of memories played in her mind: seeing Lucifer and Lilith so madly in love, the sinners in the bar, and Charlie. “You can build towers of bronze and gold. You can paint castles in the sky," she sang, the pain lingering in her heart. She gripped her fist tightly. “You can use smoke and mirrors, old cliches. Not today, not today.”

“Kings and queens, crooks and thieves. You don’t see the forest for the trees.” She turned her head, staring at the archangels and Sera with the same burning hate in her eyes. “Hand on heart, down on knees. You can’t see what everyone sees.”

Suddenly, the courtroom grew cold, sensing her hate and betrayal. “How do you feel when the world keeps turning? All that we built has come undone," she sang. “How do you sleep when the world is burning? Everyone answers to someone.” Sera stares at her with fear in her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me. Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me.”

Emily frowned sadly, seeing her old teacher look mad and hurt at them for keeping something big from her. “Can’t you see I’m crying? Can’t you see we’re crying?” Shilo sang, her eyes forming new, fresh tears. “Where’s the new horizons? Where’s the new horizons?”

The archangels all expressed fear and regret; they never thought they would see Shilo react so severely to their attempt to hide a piece of history she had not noticed. Michael kept his head facing down, unable to look at her.

“How do you sleep? How do you sleep? How do you sleep?” Shilo sings, flying higher up. The courtroom soon became filled with snow fluttering in the air. “How do you sleep when the world keeps turning? All that we built has come undone.” She sings with a strong voice. “How do you sleep when the world is burning? Everyone answers to someone.” Lute snarled with hate at Shilo as she shivered from the cold due to her powers. “Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me. Don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me. You lie to me.”

Shilo spread her wings wide, and more snow fluttered as the room got colder. “Can’t you see I’m crying? Can’t you see we’re crying?” She sings loud, causing an echo. She slowly flew back down. “Everyone answers to someone.” She placed her heels on the floor, keeping her glare on the angel firm.

Once everything is silent, all eyes fix on Shilo as a frost patch forms under her heels. Sera is holding her breath; she fears this day will come, and their fears will be right all along.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done. I know my actions, and I accepted them,” Shilo confirmed. She thought it over, agreed with what she was doing, and knew what she stood for. “I’m not going to apologize for trying to get the truth. So go ahead and have me fired; I know everything, and I will expose you to Heaven!” She yelled, her patch getting more prominent as her anger grew more assertive. “Heaven will no longer live in ignorance!! I will no longer live in ignorance!!”

Upon hearing that shout, everyone grew silent. It was like the archangels and Sera were reliving their first trial, and Lilith shouted the same sentence, no longer living in ignorance. The archangels all felt a wave of dread, knowing they had failed to keep her obedient and stop her curiosity.

Sera, on the other hand, stopped moving and was breathing heavily. Shilo’s threats ring inside her head, and she is still going to expose the angels to the extermination. That confirms the one thing the seraphim all feared. Shilo’s fierce curiosity led her away from their control and, in turn, made her understand what they were trying to hide. Shilo has become a threat to the very foundation of Heaven’s laws. And the elders will be seen as nothing but tyrants.

“Sera? What’s wrong?” Emily noticed Sera's quiet and felt a wave of concern for her.

Sera can’t let Shilo go and has her tell the angels and the new souls about this. Shilo has never been one to hide a lie. Sera feared the elders would significantly harm her, seeing how dangerous Shilo revealed herself. So she slowly turned her head to the archangels; her eyes revealed everything they needed to know.

Jophiel’s eyes widened, shaking their head. “Sera, no…” they pleaded with her.

“She is too dangerous. She knows too much now,” Sera declared. She never wanted this to happen, but she must, for all sake. So, with a heavy heart and a grief-stricken mind, she faced Shilo, her eyes hardening. “Shilo Winterstone, Virtue Angel of Perseverance. For your crimes against the court and the seraphim, you are banished from Heaven and stripped of your angelic rank.” She spoke with a firm voice.

Shilo blinked, surprised. “What?! you mean—“

“Yes. You will be fallen.” Sera disclaimed. The archangels all bowed their heads, ashamed that they had failed. Another angel close to them has been stripped from their hearts.

Emily gasped, horrified. Her favorite teacher had been banished. “No! Sera, no!!” she begged, gripping Sera’s wrist. Her eyes were filled with tears.

Sera frowned, seeing the pain in Emily’s eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows down. “This is what happens when an angel gets too close.” Sera just hoped that Emily would never follow the same path Shilo had taken after this.

She lifted her head, facing Azrael. He understood what she wanted from him, and he nodded his head slowly. So, with a saddened heart, he snapped his fingers. That summoned a doorway to Hell, big enough for Shilo’s size. He looked away, not wanting to see the betrayal in Shilo.

Shilo backed away from the portal, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. She became the next one to fall, stripped of everything she had built here. Her job, friends, life, and the angels she had trusted with her immortal life. The frost under her grew rapidly, covering the floor in frost, and the snow became fierce.

Lute gave a nod to the two exorcists, who nodded in return. They ran to Shilo, grabbed her wrists, and started dragging her to the portal.

Suddenly, Shilo grabbed their wrists and used her powers to freeze their hands, giving them frostbite. The exorcists all cried in pain, let go of her, and backed away. Their hands are all covered in a thin layer of frost and stain through their gloves. Shilo has never used her powers against other angels, never used them to harm anyone.

Shilo growled, eyes on her breasts and halos open upon her rage. “I can’t believe I trusted you, hypocrites!!” She shouted, and her shout caused a reaction to the frost as it reached the walls and spread. She took a step, ready to attack, consumed by her rage. “Lucifer was right about you!! You all are nothing but—“

Her breath stopped, along with her body and voice. All had stopped, and so did time itself. A stabbing pain entered her system, and her mind froze from the impact. She slowly moved her face down; her breath was very heavy and going slow. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of an angelic sword impaling her stomach; she could feel her heart pounding slowly against her chest and echo in her ears. She then slowly lifted her head, about to face her attacker. Then, the air in her lungs froze, and she stopped panting.

She expected Lute to attack her, but no. The one holding the sword was Michael. He glared at her, keeping the sword still in his grip. He looked like a knight who had successfully killed their opponent. Her eyes widened in horror and shock, and she never thought the angel she had given her heart to would stab her.

“Michael…?” She whispered, not taking her eyes off him.

“Tell Lucifer I said hello, you pathetic bitch.” Michael scoffed, his voice holding no warmth or love; it was firm and lacked emotions.

Shilo looked into his eyes, hoping to see any regret or guilt. But instead, she sees only emptiness and menace. Her heart stopped beating, and everything around her felt empty and cold. The wound in her heart started opening and finally shattered into a million pieces, leaving her empty and hollow. She can’t believe she let another man in her life only to break her again and leave her with nothing. Her eyes formed another set of tears trailing down her cheeks.

Then, another wave of pain came in, only from her back. She let out a painful scream. She slowly turns and spots Lute holding Shilo’s four angelic wings. Shilo gasped, slowly reached her back, and felt nothing but a bare back lacking wings. Her hand was covered in her golden, angelic blood.

Lute snickers cruelly, handing Shilo’s bloody wings to an exorcist who arrives and takes them. “Have fun rotting in Hell.” She taunted.

Suddenly, Michael shoved Shilo into the portal, pulling his sword out as Shilo fell into it while her stomach bled. He saw the hurt and betrayal in her face, knowing he had hurt her trust and broken her own heart. But instead, he walked away and placed his sword back in its place.

Once Shilo fell through, Emily jumped off her seat and flew down to pursue her and pull her out of the portal. Before she could reach it, Gabriel and Jophiel grabbed her and pulled her away from the portal. Emily struggled to break free, but their grip was more substantial.

Emily’s chest and halo open their eyes, filling with tears as she watches the portal closing and vanishing. “Shilo!!” Emily shouted. She sobbed while both Gabriel and Jophiel did their best to comfort her. They feel her pain, ashamed that they have allowed it. Like Lucifer, Shilo is gone.

~*~

Shilo’s body fell into the sky while bleeding from the stomach and back. Shilo is struggling, but her effort is pointless; without her wings, she is helpless. Her eyes stare at the sky, seeing the city of Heaven far from her grasp. As she falls, she reflects on what she did and everything she has lost. She lost her only home over her selfish desire for justice and trying to make a difference. The tears from her eyes floated in the sky.

Suddenly, her body temperature began to drop like a frightening blizzard. She felt a shiver around her, starting from her hands. She lifted her hands, seeing them turning a deadly dark blue shade like she was getting frostbite. Her feet under her heels got blue, too. The sleeves on her blouse and pants formed ice on the end, freezing them and staining the fabric. She grew scared over what was happening to her.

But before she can understand her changes, everything around her goes black, just as her body hits something with a loud crash.

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Big James | Thunder | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “This is not what it looks like!”

Requested: Yes

When you find your fiancé in a position not meant for you to see, you momentarily question your betrothal to him.

With a joyful spring in your step, you hum a soft song as you head into camp, carrying your freshly acquired basket of figs, dates, apricots and other fruits underneath your arm. The sun has already sunk behind the mountains, the encampment cloaked in gentle twilight, the fire already crackling pleasantly, the women as well as Judas and John, your brother-in-law-to-be, sit around it.

“Hi, (Y/n)!” Mary is the first one to acknowledge your return, “I see that you come bearing gifts!”

You laugh and nod, holding out the basket in her direction, “Look,” you breathe, “The best fruits I could find at market. Of course they can never compete with Capernaum’s harvest, but I’ve gotten myself quite the bargain. Speaking of which, Judas, this is for you.”

Reaching into your purse, you take out what is left from your shopping trip, and the former businessman looks up from his work to take it from you, counting it in his palm before slipping it into the bag on his hip and jotting something down in a small ledger he keeps on him wordlessly.

“Where’s James?” you ask, finding the nicest apricot you can find from the top of the fruit pile.

“Which one?” Judas absentmindedly queries, earning a scoff from John.

“Which one do you think? My brother of course! When you find him, tell him he still owes me two shekels.”

You frown but cannot fight the smile. “What? Did you guys bet on something?”

John swallows thickly, afraid that you’d disapprove of the siblings’ antics, even though your facial expression didn’t tell such a thing, and the younger of the brothers shrugs.

“Well, it’s about something that I won a long time ago. He might listen to you, since you’re his fiancée and all. But, to answer your question, he is behind the tents.”

With a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk, you stand and brush your palms down your skirt. “Thank you, John. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Your brother-in-law nods and takes a handful of dates from the basket whilst you turn towards the aforementioned direction, heading over to seek out James. With that same content song, you walk towards it, avoiding a few astray rocks on the ground.

“How often do I need to tell you that you need to keep your nose out of other people’s business?” Simon’s voice rings from behind the tent. You freeze in your step, a frown of worry knitting your brow.

“Haven’t we warned you quite enough?!” The familiarity of James' voice yet the sharp edge to his timbre causes conflicted feelings to well up inside your chest, and you rush over to see what is going on, your gut dropping and nausea clawing at your throat the very second you lay eyes on it.

With one hand laced into the front of his tunic, Big James holds up Matthew so tightly that he slightly lifts the former tax-collector off the ground. The young man in question seems terrified, clawing at your fiancé’s hand, sputtering for air. As soon as you appear in the corner of his eye, James sharply turns to you, his mouth falling agape as he realises what you’ve just walked into.

“James!” you exclaim, “How often do I need to tell you to stop picking on Matthew?!”

“(Y/n!) This– This is not what it looks like! ” He quickly releases Matthew, but the damage has already been done. The poor man coughs, a hand on his chest.

“Whatever your explanation is, I don’t need to hear it!” you spit. Simon puts a palm up in defence, but it does only more bad than good, for annoyance rears up inside of you, red hot and angry.

“Calm down, (Y/n), we were just—”

“Shut up, Simon! James, I thought we had talked this through!”

James struggles to find the words. “Sweetheart, please let me—”

“Don’t you sweetheart me now, James, son of Zebedee!” you rage, “We’re not teenagers anymore! I thought you had changed!”

Stomping away through camp, you ignore both James calling after you as well as the concerned looks being cast your way by the friends you’d deposited the fruits to earlier, tossing the apricot blindly back towards the basket. It lands next to the fire, stained with ash upon impact, and John takes it quickly before it goes up into flames, dusting it down on his tunic.

“What’s gotten into her?” he questions, seeing his brother approach. He stands and intersects himself between you and James in pursuit of you, nearly being pushed out of the way by the wall of muscle that is his older brother.

“Get out of my way—”

“Hey, hey, James, what’s going on?”

James calls after you: “(Y/n), let me explain, please!” You do, however, not look back, and a few more people have come to check out what all the commotion is about.

With tears shivering on the brims of your eyes, you find a secluded spot to mull over what you had just witnessed and hold it in the light of your engagement to James whilst your lover attempts to explain the situation to the others the best he can.

“Simon and I were just… Ah, we were just trying to–”

“We were teaching Matthew how to defend himself.” Simon interrupts. “So James had grabbed him by the collar. (Y/n) walked in on us and thought that James was bullying him.”

Matthew, fiddling with his handkerchief, supports their statement. “T-That is true,” he says, “They weren’t trying to hurt me in any way. Just… They were acting out something to see how I’d react. I-I needed to stab someone in the eye with my pen, and… I’m just not very… Good at it yet.”

Mary lets out a sound. “Ah, I understand her response, then.”

A few curious glances are sent her way and she shrugs. “What? I get it. I’ve had a lot of conversations with her about the subject of how you guys used to be as teenagers. There is a reason that Jesus calls you the Sons of Thunder, right? I suppose that (Y/n) wants to make sure that you’re able to control yourself before starting a family.”

James sighs deeply, knowing that Mary is right. “Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. I wasn’t necessarily… Peaceful when we were younger. And it has caused her father to give me quite a hard time before he allowed me her hand in marriage.”

“You’d best go after her, man,” John insists, “Just explain to her what has been going on.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me right now.” James huffs in defeat, his eyes feeling watery and heavy. His shoulders slump as he sighs.

Mary speaks up again: “I can go to see her for a second, try to explain what you’ve told us. Even though it’s best that you’ll reassure her soon after. But she might be willing to speak to me rather than to you.” It sounds unintentionally harsh, so she adds, “Just to calm her down a bit. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you afterwards.”

Knowing that it is the best option, James agrees, nodding at the dark-haired woman. “Of course.”

She heads out, finding you on the side of camp, sitting with your back against a large boulder. When she clears her throat to catch your attention, you quickly avert your gaze and sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“I’m not in the mood for a chat right now, Mary,” you tell her with a creaky voice, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” she acknowledges, “But I needed to check up on you to see if you were okay. What is going on?” She wants to hear the story from you before drawing conclusions. When you don’t immediately reply, Mary sinks down on the ground next to you, keeping you company within a few moments of silence.

“I just… I wanted to bring him an apricot – James, I mean – and I… He was just… Poor Matthew was being held up by his collar. Even his sandals were off the ground, and… I’m just having so many thoughts right now.” You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, suppressing a sob. “James and I grew up together. He has always been a bit brash, used to get in all kinds of trouble in his teenage years together with John, and… Do you reckon he has truly grown up from it all? That he can be the father to my children if he still hasn’t matured past the point of bullying someone half his size?”

Mary puts a hand on your shoulder and pats it gently, smiling softly. “Hey now, it’s alright. First of all, I feel like there resides something from our childhood in all of us, and if you ask me, all of these adult men are actually oversized toddlers.” There is humour in her voice and it manages to earn a laugh from you. “But all jokes aside, (Y/n), Simon and James weren’t bullying Matthew. If anything, they were helping him.”

“ Helping him?!” Your tone is upset again, but Mary quickly manages to get rid of that brief anxiety by continuing her explanation.

“They were teaching him how to defend himself against an attacker and were thus acting out as if they were trying to harm him. Matthew concedes to this, by the way. James wasn’t picking on him.”

Now familiar with the context, your anger shrinks into shame. Your face falls, a red flush on your neck. “Oh…” you breathe, softly. “I didn’t… Didn’t know, I…”

“You couldn’t have known,” Mary reassures you. “I’ll fetch him, okay? Then you two can talk it out.”

Swallowing thickly, you nod. Your friend arises and heads over to send James in your direction, who rushes up to you quickly, for Mary had informed him about your state in passing.

“(Y/n).” he mutters when he finds you, sitting down next to you. At once, you accept his slightly opened arms when he holds them out to you, allowing him to embrace you.

“You must think of me as a whining and spoiled little girl right now,” you bitterly huff.

“No, what are you talking about?”

“Because I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you the chance to explain yourself without storming off.”

James hums and tightens his grip on you. “Don’t say such things, sweetheart. Out of context, it must have seemed very compromising. I promise you that Simon and I were only trying to help him out.”

You laugh lightly. “That’s relieving. And here I was, already reflecting on everything we’ve been through.”

“I’ve worked way too hard to get your hand,” James murmurs with humour in his tone, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

With a scoff of laughter, you playfully punch his chest. “It had taken you long enough back then, indeed. I remember you repairing my father’s cart in the hopes of earning his favour.”

“It helped, didn’t it? I get to marry the most beautiful woman in all of Galilee - scratch that, the entirety of Israel.”

You grin, blushing, and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder whilst James chuckles, pressing a kiss onto your temple. In pleasant silence, you let the nightly cold creep over you.

“You better continue fulfilling your promises, Jay,” you murmur suddenly. James presses a kiss into your hair before pulling away, frowning.

“Hm?”

You look up at him with an innocent smile. “You owe John two shekels from some bet you lost.”

Realisation crosses his face and your fiancé lets out a sound of annoyance, even though he is unable to keep himself from chuckling. “These two stupid coins? That was ages ago!”

“All the more reason to give it to him.”

He hums, wrapping his arm around your waist a little tighter, softly drawing circles on the small of your back. “You’re right,” he whispers. “I will.”

You cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb through the thickness of his beard. “Good,” you muse softly against his lips, leaning up to kiss him, “That’s what I like to hear.”

#the chosen x reader #the chosen #big james #big james x reader #romantic #reader insert #x reader

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aeoris4lovers · 2 years ago

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Do you have any good Wulf songs or playlists? I’m working on a Wulf playlist but am really struggling to capture his essence

oh boy, do i have songs! i’ve been adding and listening to my wulf playlist nonstop for months now. here are some songs from that playlist, plus a line or two from each that i think is a good example of why i added it:

poor isaac — the airborne toxic event (“and i’d be less uptight if i knew the sight of blood was just a weakness and not the whole reason that you made me”)

lying beast — run river north (“lies, lies that i couldn’t see / i couldn’t see that the liar was me / so i flew away with myself / i was the beast all alone in my hell”)

it will come back — hozier (“don’t let me in with no intention to keep me / jesus christ, don’t be kind to me / honey, don’t feed me, i will come back”)

despite what you’ve been told — two gallants (“i guess i made this bed but i’ll take the sidewalk instead / that’s how we deal with boys like me / but despite what you’ve been told, i once had a soul / left somewhere behind a former friend of mine”)

meet me in the woods — lord huron (“i have seen what the darkness does / say goodbye to who i was”)

a good man — semler (“you poisoned the well of someone you called a friend / i think you’d rather they hate you but i don’t think they do / they’re just sad you keep killing the good man in you”)

it’s a job — wolfie’s just fine (“the life you need to lose is unspeakable / deny his mind, his crimes are versatile / everybody knows that it’s a job / everybody knows how much it costs”)

bones don’t rust — the mountain goats (“they can find a use for a scarecrow, depending on your stomach for crows / always gonna need a little muscle if you prove yourself worthy of trust”)

the mask — matt maeson (“with a piece happy home that they stripped from the bone / i did not react / i settled my grievance by crafting a mask and i never looked back”)

see the day — the altogether (“the sleeping slip has begun to fray / i never thought i’d see the day / the pious hunter stops stalking prey / i never thought i’d see the day”)

the anthem of mr. dark — the arcadian wild (“just do what you’re told without wondering why / don’t ask for a reason no matter the season / sit down and comply ‘cause we don’t want no free men / we’ll say what you are, decide what you’re not / you’ll go and you’ll go and you never will stop”)

wolfie — cottonwood firing squad (“how far we go sometimes to help us sleep at night / it’s not where you’re going, it’s what you’re running from”)

cry for judas — the mountain goats (“i am just a broken machine and i do things that i don’t really mean / long black night, morning frost / i’m still here but all is lost”)

better in the morning — birdtalker (“stuck inside a cycle of opinions where there’s two clear ways and i always take the easy one / and i’m always left with the taste in my mouth”)

the absolute best feeling — joshua bond (“and when i look back at this planet from the void between the stars in the arms of some celestial source of time / she’ll show me everything was bound to turn out fine”)

my playlist is longer than just these, but i think this is a solid selection and some of the others take a bit more explanation. i hope these help kickstart your playlist!!

#my wulf playlist is everything to me ive been wanting to talk about it on here for forever #ask answered #eadwulf grieve #eodwulf grieve #cr playlist #critical role

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loafandfish · 2 years ago

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could I request apostles headcanons where after having just boys for a long time with reader they have a babygirl

I couldn’t stop smiling while writing this! It’s just so wholesome <3

Simon P: With living in a household full of boys, Simon is super nervous to have a girl. But his worries wash away when he first sees her. It’s like his whole world got turned upside down and he was helplessly wrapped around her tiny finger from day one.

Andrew: This little girl is like a spoonful of sugar and when he sees her, Andrew immediately knows he’d do anything for this child. When she’s older, he’ll start making her little treats, like honey dipped apples, and small pastries.

Big James: Haha I think he secretly wanted a girl to begin with. This man has a tough exterior but inside he is all fluff and sweetness. If she asks for a hug or cuddles, he will agree 110% of the time. Get ready for overprotective father at its finest. He just lives her so much.

John: As soon as he gets to hold his daughter, he can’t put her down. He can’t even take his eyes off her. It’s going to take multiple people telling him that he needs to go to sleep before he finally lets someone take the baby out of his arms.

Simon Z: I find it hilarious to imagine Simon’s sons are peaceful little sweethearts, and here comes along this daughter with a fiery passion to rival the Thunders. Oh man he’s gonna teach her self defense but she’s gonna get scary good. Also! He lifts her onto his shoulder and they go on walks around town all the time.

Philip: He would absolutely teach her to dance. She’d step up on his feet and the two would dance around the kitchen for as long as they wanted to. He’d absolutely take her on hikes and nature walks to explore and appreciate the beauty of God’s creation.

Judas: So so so many of the hugs and kisses for his lil baby girl!!!! He wants to be able to provide for her best he can, and hopefully have enough wealth to give her a dream life one day. He would definitely be the dad that comes home, picks his daughter up, and spins her until they both get dizzy.

Little James: He sings to her every night as she falls asleep, but what he doesn’t know is she’s listening to the words and melody. After a particularly rough night, he hears the soft patter of his daughters footsteps, then her small voice as she sings the song. He ends up writing music to sing with her.

Thaddeus: This little girl is about to be spoiled beyond her wildest dreams. Not materially, but with so much live and affection. Piggy back rides 24/7. If she needs new clothes, he’d be the one going with her to get the materials to make it.

Nathaniel: Oh man Nathaniel and his daughter are a power couple you don’t want to mess with. If they lived in modern times, the two would be walking around with shades, lollipops, and Nat would be wearing that baby carrier thing. Do not mess, they are judging you. The two are inseparable.

Matthew: His sons can be a little much and they’re stressful to handle sometimes. So coming home to his daughter is the highlight of his day. He’d sit down next to her on the bed and read her stories. The words on the page and the rhythmic breaths of his little daughter never fail to calm him down.

Thomas: He would have the best time of his life homeschooling his daughter. Girls aren’t allowed in Torah class, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t learn, especially if she’s passionate about it like his daughter is. She quickly becomes more well educated than many of the boys in her town, and her father is eternally proud of his little girl.

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suffernot-awitchtolive · 3 months ago

Text

Holy man || Self

Wren stared at his cuffed hands. He hadnt eaten or drank anything in a few days, as he had been grieving Judas, but now he was starting to realize he hadn't had nay blood either. He was starting to feel weak, and almost human. He didn't know what happened to Vampires when they starved, but he hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

There was movement outside his cell and he got up to try to get someone's attention.

Outside the small window he could see a fallen angel. This guy was tall with black hair and the bluest eyes Wren had ever seen. His wings were as tall as he was with dark gray feathers with gold melted onto the tips of each feather, or was the gold currently molten and dripping off?

"excuse me, son?" He called from the door. The other man look around for him and when he figured out who spoke he headed to the door. Wren had met so many angels and he had fallen in love with one but their beauty always caught him off guard.

"Yes?" The angels voice was so soft and calming with a hint of authority.

"I'm Father Wren. Can you get a staff member to assist me?" He asked quietly.

"I'm Michael. I see what I can do. " Michael said with a charming smile.

As beautiful as he was, Wren could tell something was wrong. The smile was forced and his eyes were sunken with dark circles under them.

Michael hesitated then turned back to Wren.

"Why are you in isolation?" Michael asked, and Wren could see gears turning in his head.

"My sentence is very well deserved, I assure you. Don't trouble yourself." Wren said, worried the angel would be trying to break him out for some perceived injustice.

"Oh, I still... Would like to know. Please." Michael smiled a little more sincerely this time, "Humor me."

"I am very hungry, Son. I would really like to speak to staff." Wren tries again.

"Give me the short version and I'll be out of your hair." Michael insisted.

"I... Lost a loved one but he didn't come back as a ghost so I cursed someone so they would HAVE TO help bring him back. I don't care if my loved one comes back as a ghost or alive I just want him back." Wren admitted. Michael nodded and took a step back.

"That's a lot of growth, Wren." Michael whispered, stepping close, "How many did you kill?"

Wren frowned," I didn't say I killed anyone."

"I'm not here to judge you. You're one of the Lord's greatest warriors, even as your faith has wavered, you still fought the war bravely. You were led astray by your grief more than once."

"Stop." Wren said, shaken at the accuracy this angel had pegged him,"Please bring a staff member, I have not eaten in some time."

Michael shook his head and stepped back, his eyes starting to glow blue. He wished Judas was here to tell him what was happening. As Michael stepped back and lifted his hand, Wren stepped quickly back from the door.

"You will be fed, and you will assist me in this battle as you have before." Michael pulled his arm back like pulling open a door and the door to Wrens room flew off, missing Michael by inches, but he didn't flinch, the light flickering out of his eyes.

"No, I..." Wren looked around the hallway, shaking his head, "No, I need to stay here."

"Come with me and have faith. The Father will reward it. " Michael held his hand out for wrens. When Wren finally took it, his shackles glowed, becoming almost unbearably hot... Before falling off of him.

"You don't understand..." Wren tried to protest again.

"Come. Make me understand." Michael started to lead Wren by the hand back to the church.

Michael brought him food and drink and let him eat before finally moving away from small talk.

" Do you know who I am,Father?" He asked.

"Apologies, I do not think we have met or been introduced." He said quietly as he set his food aside.

" We have. I been watching you for a time, listening to your prayers, trying to assist." Michael started, crossing his ankle over his knee and gripping it to hold it there.

"Regular angels can't hear prayer,Son." Wren stated.

"No they cannot." Michael agreed, "Let me introduce myself."

"If you would." Wren stated.

"I am Saint Michael, the archangel and God's warrior, protector against evil and Satan." His eyes started to glow blue once more and as he spread his wings, they split into six, "I am no regular angels. I am a seraphim, oldest of the archangels and the leader of the harbingers, though only two of the four are left."

Wren was awestruck as the other showed himself. He almost fled when Michael started to manifest his spear. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at the holy being before him. Shame washed over him and he dropped his eyes. He had felt this shame before, when he had gotten Judas' wings taken, when his wife had gotten killed. He couldn't face a saint.

Michael touched Wrens cheek and urges him to look up. Wren dragged his eyes up the angels form.

"I'm not worthy..."

"Few are. I need you to assist me, Wren." Michaels voice was so soft and kind, warmth spread through Wren.

"A-Anything."

"I need you to kill."

@denarius-quart-of-wheat

#ill make a starter later on that is right after this

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elfrowan · 7 months ago

Text

We Are Not Alike by According to Hoyt

This is a post I should not have to write. Mostly because it’s self-obvious. But it took ME a while to figure it out, so– Here it is.

First let’s dismiss the entire “it’s an hoax” because that’s just the left (broadly defined as to the left of Lenin) being their usual lunatic selves. I’m not even going to respond to the self-proclaimed surgeons or the self-proclaimed ballistics experts on twitter. I’m going to say that if they had even minimal contact with reality they’d realize that even fragmenting ammo does not fragment in contact with ear cartilage (not enough resistance) and no, having a bullet graze you doesn’t mean your head explodes. I don’t actually know whether to advise them to put down the crack pipe or stop watching Merry Melodies. I feel like someone should tell them safes don’t randomly fall out of the sky, nor pianos from upper-story windows, but from the ones I’ve seen on twitter they’d fight us tooth and nail on that too.

There is a much easier way to put their bizarre fantasies to rest: For the whole thing to be a carefully orchestrated false flag, you have to believe that Donald Trump — DONALD TRUMP — is as carefully self-controlled and obedient to choreography as a trained dancer.

I’ll wait till you stop laughing and then give you the graphic again, about how closely, and by a random turn of the head, America escaped a bloody civil war last Saturday.

But sure, cooly-oh, if you believe Donald effing Trump timed the turning of his head precisely, after the bullet had already been fired by an untrained 20 year old sniper…. Oh wait, if you believe that you’re probably jonesing to vote for socialists, so it fits.

As for “all an hoax” you’re requiring that everyone there, including the secret service which is not only controlled and assigned by the present administration, but who also are being dragged through the mud for malice and incompetence, be complicit on this. This includes the family of the man who died. If you really believe that, get out of here. You’re not serious and not only are you a f*cking infant, you’re a moronic f*cking infant. Shut up, child, the adults are talking.

Then there is the outrage and certainty that he should not have got up and pumped his fist, because “ree” he’s keeping his secret service in danger to grandstand. First, if the secret service can’t drag a 79 year old man (and themselves) out of danger (and remember their JOB is danger, their concern is supposed to be their detail) they need to find another job. Yesterday. Second… I realize that none of you EVER were responsible for keeping any group that was in anyway connected to you from doing the inadvisable. BUT–

If Trump hadn’t immediately got up and done that, we’d already be in a civil war. Before news that he was all right could have gone out, people would have gone hot. And listen, you have no idea. You really have no idea.

And no, it’s not a Trump cult. It’s a “if they could get him, they’re coming for me next” “Nothing to lose.” “I have plans in place for this circumstance.” Do I know anyone in the group that would do that. Not explicitly. But I have guesses about a rough three to four dozen of my acquaintance. And I know the psychology.

Look, even after he got up and pumped his fist, I found myself — I was cleaning the house and away from the computer. I have already promised never to do that again — calming people on texts with “No, from the video he’s not in danger. Stop worrying” until I gave up (my kitchen is still a mess) and got on the keyboard.

But speaking of psychology, we get to the important part of this post.

There is very little my colleagues in Science Fiction and Fantasy do that shocks me. Even the politics from the left side of Judas’s ass does not shock me. I’ve read (or at least skimmed) their books, and the flaws are right there, in the worldbuilding that behaves like no real world would behave ever, unless it were utterly contained inside the broken clockwork mind of Marx.

But there was a take that propagated like lightening through the left side of science fiction, echoed by some people who probably once had functional brain cells of a sort, that made me kind of rock back on my heels. This was based on the would be assassin’s registration (voter registration isn’t politics. My husband and I have different ones, and yet we’re about the same.) And it was…. ahem “Why should I care if Trump was shot at by a right winger?”

This was completely puzzling to me because, well… I can’t picture a scenario in which anyone who is broadly to the right of Lenin would try to shoot the candidate of the party opposing the Junta. Not vote for him, maybe. Shoot him? That requires a completely different level of passion and animus. Unless these people were completely insane, I couldn’t figure out why people otherwise capable of writing three coherent paragraphs would even say that.

But then I flipped it.

Look, is it believable that say, advocates for “Palestine” would shoot Joe Biden, for being insufficiently anti-Israel? Well, sure. Is it possible trans advocates would shoot Joe Biden because in their eyes he was insufficiently pro-trans? Or radical communists who think he’s a right winger? Sure. Of course.

But here’s the thing. We’re not the same.

Sure, the right has a broad tent. But it’s a tent. Meaning, there’s a ton of space, people move erratically within in — and sometimes get in hair-pulling arguments — but we’re not cohesive groups in close contest.

Why?

Well, because mostly the right in America wants to be left alone to live their own lives. With a few exceptions, what we want the government to do about our cause is “Leave us alone, and stop forcing me to act in ways that go against my perceived self-interest.” That’s it.

This means that while I think some of you people might be a little loonie on your hobby horses, it’s no skin off my nose. If you really want national currency to be gold-based, well, fine. Can’t be worse than what we have right now, though I think you’ll find it has similar flaws in the end. Or if your hobby horse is that you want to get rid of national parks… Whatever. If I were an avid camper and hiker, I’d already have groups ready to buy and maintain what I consider essential parts of them, should that ball drop.

And that’s leaving aside that I agree with many of your hobby horses. They’re not mine, but I’d go “Heck yeah”: like get rid of the department of education schools and turn education control over to the closest local level or stop dictating minimum wage at a federal level. Or “reduce bureaucracy” or…. anyway. Ahem. I don’t really have a hobby horse, per-se I have a stable, and it’s summed in Viva La Libertad, Carajo!

What I mean is reducing the federal government is not an endeavor that causes us to have MURDEROUSLY strong feelings about our leaders.

Strong feelings? Sure. That’s why our primaries are so disputed and why the left thinks we’re so scary. But frankly, we’re the people who eschewed the indoctrination of the schools, media, entertainment, to make up our own minds. We have strong feelings about breakfast cereal, let alone presidential candidates.

They’re just not the kind of strong feelings that leads to shoot them. (Presidential candidates, or breakfast cereal. The only thing I own I’ve ever considered taking to the range and shooting to pieces is my printer.)

Meanwhile, the left?

Oooh, boy. While they encompass many single-issue groups, their side is not a tent.

You see, what they’re competing from, because of their conceit of a central, and centralized government who can be all things to all people, is a finite budget and government-granted primacy. Money and power given to feminists doesn’t go to trans, doesn’t go to terrorism supporters, doesn’t go to terrorism importers, doesn’t go to parks, doesn’t go–

On top of which they believe in Marxism, which is to say, they believe in finite pie economics. Wealth can’t be created, just endlessly redistributed. And this leaks over to everything. So you know, you can’t have equal rights for women without taking some from men, otherwise women are insufficiently “equal” (no joke, when my kids were in college, email from the university. They’d achieved 65% female graduates in Chemistry. More work needed to be done to assure that females had “equality” in chemistry. And no they weren’t suggesting cutting that down to 50%. Equality for them apparently meant 100%.)

The left side of the isle is not so much a broad coalition of groups all going the same general way. No. They’re groups that resemble nothing so much as rabid weasels tied together by the tail presenting teeth and claws outward, but ready to turn them on each other at the slightest provocation. (Or imagined provocation.)

So, their candidate being shot by their own side? Absolutely believable.

What they don’t understand: We’re not alike.

On the right side, Trump being shot by a “right winger” or “republican”? is jaw-droppingly bizarre and unbelievable.

I mean, okay, there’s the never Trumpers. So, some young man was so inflamed by the immortal rhetoric of the Bulwark that he…. No. Some young man loved Ron De Santis so much that he– Barely plausible, except any Ron De Santis fan knows that’s not who would replace Trump, because the right doesn’t work that way. And Ron to his eternal credit has in no way stoked that kind of flame or demanded that kind of follower.

So, what? Are we to believe that the leaders who are genuinely snippy at Trump have that kind of following amid the youth?

Advance the Pierre Delecto Brigades, with their perfectly coiffed hair, wielding their combat roladex! Forward march.

Or perhaps: Up the Mitch McConnell volunteers, in their turtle armour….

It won’t wash. It won’t pass the giggle test.

We’re back again to “The left isn’t insane, but what they think they see on the right is just a mirror, reflecting them endlessly.”

Which sometimes requires more effort on our part to understand their “thought” than they put into those opinions to begin with.

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blondrichclosetwitch · 1 year ago

Text

Katie 1/23/17

.....can be *trusted*? What about all the stuff about her being Jesus, and me being the Virgin Mary?

How am i supposed to know what’s real, and what’s not real, Horse? Like, is the stuff about Blond real?

(dramatic sigh)

But Jane is saying that i can’t trust my guides.

(Jane is a medium in cali who warned me things were going to go haywire the night before katie died)

That i can’t read for myself. Is that true?

That Random and God and you are all gonna say the same thing that katie says.

Well, is it true that all the phone calls have been from Blond’s people? Almost all of them?

(pause)

And is it true that she’s pregnant?

And is it true that she’s going to miscarry on april 17th?

I’m just thinking about...jakk. I heard what you said the other night, i did. You know i listen to you. (yawns) i need to lie down a bit more.

(break in tape, a buzzing in the background, now talking to “katie”)

And i think that that’s what jane doesn’t understand. You’re not a normal 9 year old..is that correct?

And i think that’s what she wasn’t getting. But that’s just so obvious to me. Like, i feel that. It would be obvious to me if you were just a normal year old. If my niece had just died, and..i know that that is deeper.

You know?

But...(transmission)

i get that. I know that.

I like the way that i can feel you reacting in my body.

(pause)

I just heard a man calling Blond....a man calling Blond in my head...and leaving her a voicemail. Saying “you need to stop Blondrich Closetwitch, do you hear me “

Is that just because i’m angry? Is that just because i’m tired of it.

“No”?

Should i give someone her phone number? Patrick?

(Pause)

That’s bad though, that’s the dark, that’s the dark..right? That’s the dark. That’s Blond’s way. (tearful) that’s the dark, that’s Blond’s way (more tears) and i just have to, like, focus. And ask for God’s help.

So you think it’s almost time to call my father. Thousand dollars meeting with healers, trying to figure out what happened...tell him i’ve done that, 800$ meeting with healers, and they all...i

can play it all for him. (getting manic) and that right now i need his help. I can quit the business and i can get a job waiting tables. (smiling) like you told me to

And then i’ll just see the normal clients that i like.

Right?

Do i need to wash my hair today?

I do?

Should we go to the tree now? It’s only 7. I guess we could go out there this early. Ok. i guess. (noises of getting dressed & prepped for the world )

( a long pause)

Katie....did jakk get a job somewhere else?

In the chef position?

So now he feels like he can file for divorce. Ohhhhhhhh. So he’ll have more money. That’s what he was telling me.

Is it a new place?

No....no(surprised)...it’s an established place? (she ruminates)

It’s not one of the DC restaurants, is it?

It is?

Is it saam?

Is it saambar?

(shocked) no! No it’s not, (thrilled) no it’s not. Really? He loves saam. He loves it.

(running water)

I know it sounds crazy.

.*really*?

What!

Is this an alternative world? (low laugh) did he actually get the chef position at saam bar?

( sounds of her moving around, until the tape ends)

NR 71 1/24/17

We’ve got a little time. Hold on i have to put my hair up, sorry. It’s like a rat’s nest. So was Blond Judas?

So Blond goes back, like, through time! Playing the role of..the traitor.

Is jakk...is jakk...so jakk is hearing my conversations with him?

And he’s trying to figure out how to get out of the situation with Blond.

Is he keeping his phone locked?

Good.

Is it safe for me to start texting him again?

You think so.

Is he really the chef of saambar?

I’m trying to get if that’s like....

Yes. that’s a yes.

Chef of saam bar.

(googling) new chef of saam bar...(perusing the website )

You’re saying yes

Huh

Have they announced it yet?

But he got it.

“Matt asked him.”

(shrieks) oh my god

(translating transmission)

So matt’s moving on to somewhere else....and asked jakk to take the position.

(freaking) oh god. Oh my god.

So, it’s not happening just yet.

Is it gonna be..more than 2 weeks?

Oh my god, that’s so great.

It really is happening then.

(pause)

I think i’m gonna go back to bed, my head still hurts. We can talk later. Is that ok? I’ve got to get one more hour of sleep.

But that’s great news. It’s really great news.

But does that mean that he’s still gonna go to europe?

Or does that mean i’m gonna go to europe?

(small laugh)

I’m going to europe

He’s gonna stay here and work and i’m gonna go to europe

I guess it makes sense.

Am i gonna have the money to go to europe? Is someone gonna give me the money? Cause i can’t be poor in europe. Am, i going to italy?

What about the cat? Is she coming with me?

And katie’s coming with me.

(concerned) Is my brother gonna kill himself?

Soon?

Is it true that dad admitted to claire what he did?

(pause)

I don’t know any italian

And we’re gonna write.....one more hour of sleep.

oh i see it’s because he’s the Magician.

I see why it’s happening. (end of tape)

NR 72 1/24/17

(talking to “Psychic Jakk”)

(angry) Took down my slixa, took down my eros, took down my backpage....like i’ve taken everything down, i’ve taken everything down...and she’s still trying to set up people, she’s contacting...i don’t know exactly how she’s finding them. But it does seem to be happening, somehow.

She is doing this.

She’s just trying to get me busted and she’s trying to use any means possible. Is this because she...is this because of the spells?

“Because she doesn’t want to go to jail for the spells. “

Well......does laurie know that i want to talk to her about the spells?

Yes, okay. Is she planning on talking to me? I had a feeling she would.

I am...i’m not giving up. It seems like Blond knows a lot of people. But that’s ok. Oh man it’s really raining. She knows a lot of people but that’s alright.

Do you know how she’s doing this?

Did she send out like a massive email or something? She did.

Did she say this woman is trying to wreck my marriage?

Huh.

Don’t you think her mother should see the email?

Well, .......she’s not going to get to me. Can you find me a restaurant job? Can you like have one of your friends call me and hire me, stat? Just don’t let her know about it.

That would be a huge help.

You know i’m good. You know i’m great with people. And i’m gonna work on my resume tonight, i just have to go to the bank and make sure my account isn’t overdrawn.

And figure out if i’m getting a roommate or what, i guess. Which i really didn’t want to do but oh well..i’d rather just have you as my roommate.

But ...do you think that i should hold off on messaging laurie again? Ok

( translating transmission)

You’re handling it.

Alright i’m gonna let you get to work, i’m going to go to the bank...we’ll talk more later. Ok. alright. Ok. i love you.

ok bye.

Alright katie...we’re gonna get ready to go...out in the rain.

(end of tape)

#watch the tapes

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mooncleaver · 2 years ago

Text

My Queen, My Sun and My Sea

talokan once had a queen. one who loved her people with all her heart—with the same heart she had given to her k'uk'ulkan for what felt like millennia ago. but they lost her to the hands of the enemy; it was a tragic tale painted on the walls of the king's mural, the pain searing itself onto his heart uninvited. he rules now with a darkened hole in his chest, fueled by the loss of his true love and a force to protect his people even more. after all, only the most broken people can be great leaders.

pairing: namor x fem!talokan!reader

warnings: bpwf spoilers!! death (i was lowkey evil for that), colonizers, inaccurate translations, nawt very proofread lol

El Niño Sin Amor.

That was a name that echoed deep inside Shuri's head, its bitter aftertaste lingering still; a piece of Namor that she'd just uncovered.

He was an enigma; a powerful being who rose from the sea, unannounced with his presence but has always been there, deep in the waters where he and his kingdom have flourished in the city of Talokan. He had just finished recounting about his and his people's origins, how the colonizers brought a disease that left his ancestors to drink a concoction from a vibranium-infused plant found in an underwater cave to save themselves, turning them into water-breathing individuals; the Talokanil.

She turned to Namor with many questions unanswered, only to see him staring at something with a look akin to pain and longing on one of the surfaces on his murals, caressing the painting with a gentleness she had yet to seen from the god.

She shifted to the side quietly, trying to see what he was gazing at. When Namor bowed his head, Shuri saw a painting of a woman beside his serpent, posing regally with what looked like a staff in her hand.

She wore a beautiful jade and gold headpiece, green and brown feathers lining the outer layer, fading in its design as if the light was shining on them. It towered atop her figure, framing her perfectly like she was always meant to be there. She was adorned in jewelry, from the large, circular green jade plugs that hung from her ears to the tessellated necklace that she wore—a striking amalgamation of gleaming silver beads, plated viridescent tiles to carved gold pendants and everything that complemented her beauty. The woman had a tan clothe wrapped around her body, washes of terracotta and hues of sage and cream woven in stripes on the fabric. She was covered in jewels—just like Namor.

One thing for sure, she must have been of royalty in Talokan. Or a goddess, perhaps. The corks in Shuri's head turned as she tried to figure out where the woman in the mural fit in Namor's story.

"Who is that?" Her question seemed to break him out of his reverie. She could see the way his body tensed at her question, and whether it was because she cut him out of his thoughts of because of what she asked, she didn't know.

It took a quiet moment before Namor answered, looking in deep contemplation with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his eyes growing darker. The next thing he uttered was so full of emotion that it flooded through the sentence, his voice sounding thicker than blood.

"Leti' ka'ach in reina. My queen. In k'iino' ka, in k'áak'náabo'."

(She was my queen. My sun and my sea.)

For a second her words refused to make it out of her mouth. The Wakandan princess' mind didn't wonder to Namor having a queen.

The Namor now wasn't like the Namor she had met in the shores of her land with her mother. The Namor now felt like a broken man who would go the farthest lengths to protect his people. With every counting second of being in this underwater cave, Shuri seemed to discover more and more about the man, slowly laying bare the walls he had built around himself.

"Is she-"

"She was.. she was killed by surface dwellers." The god cut off, as if he couldn't bear to hear the words coming out from someone else's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and Shuri felt the sea grow quiet for a split second. It was like it remembered their lost queen.

He took a deep breathe before speaking out and if one were to listen closely, they could hear the slight shakiness in his voice, like talking about this particular incident tore his wounds open again. "Years ago the surface dwellers tried to find Talokan. They were told of an underwater city filled with glittering gold and diamonds, with a palace of precious metals whose value exceeds all else."

"They are greedy, always taking and taking what is not theirs—beasts who ravage land with no mind of its consequences. She was there where the land met the waters along with the young ones, and those monsters crossed paths with them." Namor shook his head, disdain present in the way he moved his body and his words.

"The first thing they did they raised their weapons, pointing it at her when all she did was offer them her hands. She tried to speak to them, to negotiate with peace and kindness. But they are blinded with hatred." He spat that word out and Shuri almost flinched at his tone.

"With no mercy they killed her and the children. They took their lives as if it was nothing to them."

"When I emerged to the surface.. she was already dying."

One of your handmaids had been the one to inform him of the situation, barging into his mural room right when he got back from a trip with a growing panic in her eyes as she screamed in anguish, 'Le reina! Le reina!'

"I turned to those murderers and treated them with how they treated my wife and the children; I killed them with no mercy."

The feathered serpent god will never forget the possessing rage he felt when he saw what those killers did to his wife. Without a single doubt in his movements he flew towards them like a strike of lightning and sliced their heads off before they could even scream.

Something that would always haunt his dreams was seeing his beloved die in his arms, unable to do anything, running out of time.

Sometimes, if the K'uk'ulkan thought too much about it, he could still feel the way he held you in his arms, the jarring coldness of your body that surged across his skin like a bloodthirsty frostbite.

Your hair fell in a pool beneath your head, encrusted with blood that he didn't know where it came from. There was too much, too much of it that slithered around your body. With trembling hands he supported the back of your neck, bringing your face closer as he cradled your cheeks in his palms.

"Ma', ma', in puksi'ik'al.. jaap wicho'ob, láayli' ma' jach a súutuko'," he pleaded, heart racing a thousand beats at your weakened state. His fingers stroked your temples, tracing the skin from your eyebrows to the high point of your cheek and you swore you would forever savor the feel of his skin on yours.

(No, no, my heart.. open your eyes, it's not your time yet,)

"It's al-..right, in amado." You choked out, holding the hand that held your face and leaning onto his palms with whatever energy you had left in you. It was getting harder to open your eyes or even speak, the hole in your chest rampaging your body like an unquenched beast.

"In ku. Let go, K'ukulkan. Ts'o'ok in meentik le ba'ax táan des-.. destinado in beetik waye'.. je'el u páajtal in je'elel bejla'e'.."

(They call me. I've done what I was meant to do here.. I can rest now..)

He ignored your terrifying acceptance and gently quieted you, pressing his lips onto your forehead in deep fervor. "Save you words, in yaakunaj-"

Namor's heart threatened to jump right out of his chest when he felt your hand go slightly limp, desperately taking it above the crook of his neck, right where the ends of his jaw met his ears. The king held onto you so tightly, trying to keep you grounded with him in the world of the living as if the warmth of his body would spread life to your decaying one. He saw you smile peacefully, like his touch rejuvenated you for a single beat, slowly yet surely stroking the tip of his pointed ears as you've always done whenever you had the chance to. It was a small act of affection that Namor fell weak to, and he couldn't contain the abrupt cry that fell from his lips at the familiar gesture.

"K'a'as a puksi'ik'al yéetel a-.. a yaakunaj, in ajawo'," but even then your stubborn and insistent nature persevered. You spoke with only him and your love for him in mind, silently telling him that this will not be the end. That despite after all this when you will no longer be there to tell him just how beloved and brave he is, he should still remember what he had learned—what he had taught you. You hoped that it would keep him grounded and true, still fierce but with compassion and empathy.

(Remember your heart and your love, my king,)

"In.. yaakunech," and you let our your final breathe, the light in your eyes no longer shining as you stared up into nothing. At the least you looked content to pass to the afterlife in your husbands arms, a gentle lift on the corner of your lips to signify that you've moved on. But along with your departure you tore apart of Namor that he didn't think could ever be replaced—left him with a half-ripped heart and as a shell of the man he once was.

(I love you)

Now, kneeling on the prickling pearly sand tainted with weeping carmine, he was not a god. He was not the king of a powerful underwater nation, he was not a lethal mutant, a hero, a villain, or a protector. No, he was just a man. A man whose heart had been punctured with a hole in the shape of his beloved.

He screamed at the world with the voice of someone who had just lost everything, scorning the surface dwellers with a burning pit of anger and vengeance in his blackened heart. It echoed around the area, bleeding onto every rock, every blade of grass and every tree with his promise of death. The sea grew restless, mirroring the raging currents in his soul.

Namor choked a cry, closing your eyes as his hands shook with grief and pain, body threatening to collapse under his heartbreak. He brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead against yours while he scrunched his eyes closed, disbelieving and mourning of the loss of his beloved. Because no matter how much he begged, how much he cried for you, you would never come back to him, never blessing him with that delicate smile on your face again. The god stayed there for what felt like hours and days, whispering sweet goodbyes, harrowing sobs and promises to avenge you.

When he carried your cold body to Talokan, the people could only stare in shock and despair over the loss of their darling queen. In their eyes you were one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, not just because of your position, but because of your compassion and your love—something that knew no bounds.

It was a painful and gut-wrenching experience, to bury his own wife. It brought him back to the time where he had to do the same to his own mother, to cover her in clothe and put a piece of maize inside her mouth.

"The surface dwellers have taken so much. Talokan's queen, our home and our freedom. I will not let them do so again." Namor had a scathing look in his eyes, a latent tone of tiredness from facing a world that only took from him.

"She must have been an amazing queen and a strong woman." Shuri could only utter these words with a solemn expression on her face, unable to reply to such vulnerability of someone she had considered a dangerous enemy. Despite that.. there was an underlying empathy between the two. Shuri understood him. She knew the pain of losing someone you love.

"She was." A calm visage eventually spread around his face as he looked up at the glorious mural depicted on the walls of the room. "She had the biggest heart and the kindest soul."

Namor couldn't help but get lost in his memories of his beautiful wife. He speaks no lies when he describes you. You were the people's queen, as what the Talokanil called you. You'd always visit the people, play games with the children and scour the underwater markets that sold all kinds of trinkets and foods. Whenever the people needed you you were always there, willing to help them without a second glance as you opened your heart to them all.

After you death, whenever he would swim around Talokan and talk to his people—laughing and joking around with them—there would be this.. serene melody inside his heart, a gentleness that ran through his veins. Namor would feel the water pulsing on the pads of his skin and he'd always take a moment to close his eyes to relish the feeling. Then a smile would make it onto his face—the kind of smile that you would always tell him to show more often. His people felt it too, like a warm embrace to their soul, as if you were watching over them, still caring about them even when you were gone.

It was not only to Talokan's people, but to the ocean's animals too.

If there was one thing about his queen, it was that you had a deep affinity with the marine animals. Whenever the king couldn't find you anywhere in your room or in the palace halls, Namor would only smile to himself and swim to the clearing of the sea just outside of Talokan, watching his wife croon along the whales and the orcas, taking care of them as if your love spoke a thousand languages.

"In ch'ujuk, ko'oten paakat!" You would shout, gleefully waving your hand up in the air with no care in the world.

(My sweet, come and look!)

Sometimes he would only stay back and watch you with eyes so tender that it looked like he was entirely captivated by you. By your voice, your laughter, your smile; your everything. Other times, Namor would be too taken by you (as he always was), deciding to join you play with the creatures that you'd called 'your babies'. Whirling and chasing them around them felt like dancing in the water and Namor was too in love to ever deny you of your little joy.

Even now whenever the whales would call out to the sea, or when the orcas whistled and clicked along, he could still hear your radiant laughter singing along with them and oh how he longed to hear that sound again, to hear the melody of the ocean in its fullness.

You were simply the glue to Talokan; everyone adored the queen.

Until now, your throne still sat next to his, the jade and vibranium never ceasing to glow. Every time he sat there, watching over his people and celebrating his kingdom with defiant shouts of "L'ik'ik Talokan" he would always remember your face, remember the proud look you had when you would raise your fist to your chest along with everyone. Your memory will never fade in the heart of Talokan, always lingering in the brightest places, comforting during troubling times, because you will always be a precious piece of the kingdom that neither he nor his people would forget.

If he brought the sun to his people, you were the sun to him.

"You and I, we are not so different, princess." He broke his train of thought.

"Those people only see us as threats because they know we are powerful. They will not stop until they have what they want. It is a danger to my kingdom and my people—a threat to your people too."

Finally, Namor turned his head to face Shuri, a determined aura lingering in his voice and in his expression. She felt compelled to stare back straight into his eyes, the conviction in his tone like a true king. "And so I offer you again."

"Join me, and we will never have to see our people suffer, to see our loved ones suffer. We will no longer mourn our losses and bury the dead for unjust cruelty."

"Together, we will watch the world burn."

lawd this man singlehandedly got me out of a writing slump like.. making a fic with angst + namor = too easy 😩💳💥

this is my first time writing for him, so i hope it was okay! im so in love with him and i wanted to contribute my own piece to the fandom.

also, i'm pretty sure the yucatec mayan was not properly translated, so i apologize from my heart for the inaccuracies. please tell me if i have to fix anything!

dividers by @delishlydelightfuldividers and @rpinkling

tags: @bloatedandlonly

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bramblequill · 3 years ago

Text

No More Running: Chapter 3 - Can I Play with Madness?

To say that Dustin was excited would be the understatement of the year. The kid could. not. sit. still in the passenger seat of Eddie's van as they drove towards the trailer park, nor could he stop talking. To be completely honest Eddie was kind of zoning in and out as Dustin rambled on and on about various things, campaign ideas, character designs... the works. His chest was tight again and had been since last period since the teacher had held him after class and congratulated him on his grades and asked what he had planned for life after school. Once again, he was confronted with the reality that he didn't think he'd ever actually reach.

"Dude, are you listening to me?" Dustin's voice snapped him out of his thoughts again

"Yeah man, sorry, what were you saying?" Eddie asked as he reached over to lower the stereo

"I was ASKING, what I can know now about the campaign since you're letting me help." Dustin was still bouncing in his seat

"Well, I didn't want to jump into something too terribly difficult since it's only our first meeting since ... well everything... but so far, I have it planned out that you're all going to start off in the town Inn and be sent to see the King. The King is then going to request that you head to the local cemetery where the dead are rising and no one's sure why."

"AND THEN?" Dustin said eagerly, leaning forward, fingers splayed on the dash

"Well, I mean a lot is going to depend on how the play goes... what everyone's actions are right? But I figure once in the graveyard they can find out that they need to head down into the Kings crypt and in there will be a bit of a maze of tunnels... some containing treasure and some containing baddies. At the end I want there to be a big boss, but I haven't figured out what I want it to be yet. Seems impractical to have a dragon underground you know?" Eddie chuckles

Dustin leaned back and tapped his fingers on his chin as he stared out the window thinking "Hmm, well what form of undead are the dead rising as?" he asked looking back at Eddie

"Well, I was thinking either Skeletons or Zombies?" Eddie tossed back

"What about Vampires?"

"What are you thinking? I can practically hear your gears turning?" Eddie laughed

"Well, we just defeated Vecna right? Like in Real life and in the game before that...and we know about Kas but what if we made up some sort of character like Kas just this character wants to copy Vecna but also one up him?"

"Mind flaying and all?" Eddie asked curious at where this kid's brain was going with this

Dustin thought on that one for a minute "Nah, I think the stuff we encountered in hell should be kind of avoided. I don't want anyone to be sad. I just want us all to have a good time. Maybe we shouldn't do vampires? Maybe the Bonies are the best way to go?"

"Hmm, let's think on it some more. When we get in you can comb through the books and see what you can find?"

This quieted Dustin and Eddie was able to turn the stereo back up, his mixtape turning to Judas Priest. Eddie was drumming his fingers along too Hot for Love when he noticed you. He'd never seen you before... he would remember. You were curvy in all the right places, jeans filled out nicely by a shapely ass that simply hypnotized as you walked. The back of your jean jacket looked to have been hand painted... it looked like a Kiss tribute painting from the quick glance he could steal without running off of the road. You were practically dragging your backpack along the ground, kicking stones as you walked. "Where did she come from?" Eddie thought to himself. You had to live in the same trailer park as there weren't any homes near here... were you the new neighbor? Uh. Oh.

"Do you know who that is? She looks like your type." questioned Dustin giggling

"I don't... but we did just have someone move in." Eddie said shaking his head... they were about to turn off into the park. No sense in offering a ride from here... and admittedly, as curious as he was about you, he didn't want to worry about first impressions while Dustin-sitting. Even if Dustin was one of the coolest kids he knew.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pulling up to his modest little home, he and Dustin hopped out of the Van – each grabbing their backpacks and Dustin the box of D&D shit they had grabbed from the choir room where they hosted Hellfire. Eddie unlocked the door and ushered him in, only momentarily noting to himself that this was Dustin's first time seeing their new trailer since the old one had gotten... well... utterly obliterated.

Dustin didn't waste time however before he was investigating the new home that still had boxes of things needing to be unpacked lining walls. He was opening and closing doors, whistling appreciatingly with each new space. Eddie grinned proudly. Truth be told this place really was a nicer home than what they had had before, still a part of him missed the old trailer that had been his home for as long as he could remember. That one had been familiar... all the mugs and caps lining the walls... secondhand furniture...dirty dishes in the sink... Even Eddie's room felt a little foreign to him sometimes. He had hung up some new posters and tried to make it his own again, hung up his beauty over top of a Corroded Coffin banner his new group of friends had made him. All in all, it really was a nice room... but it didn't even smell like home anymore and that kind of bothered him. But hey. He was graduating soon, right?

Dustin had sprawled out on Eddie's floor, completely surrounded by guidebooks, character sheets, models, and dice. He was scribbling away drawing up ideas for the boss and bad guys they'd face this weekend. Eddie sat against the headboard of his bed, acoustic guitar in hand, casually strumming random chords and tunes as he threw suggestions and ideas back and forth with his friend. Within a few hours they both were pretty happy with what they had come up with and Dustin was absolutely vibrating with excitement and beaming with pride. Eddie had made sure to praise him every time he came up with a solid idea (and truth be told he had a lot!) Eddie wanted to make sure to build his confidence up, so he'd feel comfortable taking over the club when it was Eddie's time to go.

"We should probably get you home soon dude." Eddie said as he glanced at the clock. They had definitely gone past when Dustin was usually supposed to be home.

"What time is it?" Dustin asked also glancing to the clock "SHIT YEAH MOMS GOING TO KILL ME!" Dustin exclaimed as he scrambled around, gathering up the things he'd be taking home with him

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had dropped Dustin off at home and apologized to his mother for getting him home so late with the assurance that they would call next time. She had a soft spot for Eddie after everything so ultimately, they were forgiven for their losing time. Now Eddie was pulling back up to his trailer, taking an extra few to finish Ride the Lightning. It was a grave sin after all, to turn off such great music. He sat bobbing his head slightly, fingers faux strumming chords as he occasionally puffed on a cigarette, eyes closed and lost in the riffs of the song. It was one of few moments of peace he'd been able to find since everything in the Upside down, and it was interrupted by the slamming of a screen door.

Eddie's eyes shot open as he looked around quickly for the source of the noise and found it. You were hurrying off in the direction of the woods that surrounded the park. He could tell you were upset, and it cause something to lurch in his stomach. Eddie quickly shut off the van. Cranked his window up and jumped out, grabbing the stashed flashlight and hurrying off to follow. No one should be in these woods by themselves. But especially after dark. The upside-down threat may be cleared but who knows if something else could be lurking in the shadows. Next Chapter - Chapter 4

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