#the chosen simon the zealot

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Simon the Zealot | Brother Knows Best | Romantic

Brotherly concern may be considered sweet, unless said sibling tries to stand in the way of your love.

Requested by Juliaarwj

Every so often, Simon finds his own gaze drift across camp to rest on you sitting on the other end with the women. Your laughter stands out amongst the chatter and giggles erupting from the conversation you’re having and the sound of it makes his heart flutter every time he hears it. Then again, perhaps he’s biased. It is obvious you’re having fun whilst stitching up one of the tunics that rests in your lap and the former Zealot can’t help but feel a weird pang of jealousy when he sees it belongs to Philip. 

Trained to not be easily startled, he’d always expected of himself to be vigilant at all times, but when he turns back to his task of keeping the fire alive, he is met with a deeply glaring Nathanael, whose eyes are narrowed so suspiciously that Simon can’t help but slightly jolt at the unexpected proximity. The architect can apparently be very quiet when he wants to. Not that he often feels like it. 

“Why are you making eyes at my sister?” Straight to the point as always, Nathanael asks his question without beating around the bush. His dark eyes remain focused on Simon as he waits for an answer. Still recovering from being caught off-guard, Simon stutters for a moment. 

“I—Uh, I wasn’t—” 

“—I am not blind, Si.” 

It is unlike him to be able to read the room so well, usually lacking tact and awareness in some situations. However, if it involves his little sister, Nathanael seems to pick up on things that are definitely there. Simon hoped he was being more subtle about it, but it seems that he is not. 

“I know what you’re thinking.” Nathanael mutters, “She is not available.” 

Simon the former Zealot feels his heart drop into his gut. Had there been a betrothed he had been unaware of, hidden from the knowledge to prevent it from getting in the way of the ministry, a marriage only to be taking place once the time to settle down had come? 

“I didn’t know that she was already spoken for.” Simon breathes, voice unusually shaky. 

“Spoken for? No, I just don’t like the idea that my sister would be with a former assassin.” 

Part of his disappointment washes away but returns just as fast as Simon realises the meaning behind your brother’s words. “Former assassin,” he then emphasises, “Just like you, I am not the person I once was.” 

“You still have blood on your hands.” 

“In my training, I actually never reached the point that I killed someone. Just when I was about to complete my first ever assassination, I saw my brother healed by Jesus, and—” 

“—I know the story,” Nathanael mutters, “(Y/n) has told me plenty of times before. Got that little glitter in her eyes whenever she talks about you.” 

Simon feels his heart skip a beat, almost forgetting to toss another log into the fire. “Really?” he whispers, “(Y/n)… She talks about me?” 

Nathanael rolls his eyes and sighs. “She definitely does. But I can see through you, former Zealot. I don’t want you and her to get… How to put it? Closer. I know that she aided you in adapting to the group and all, but that doesn’t mean that you’d make a good couple. As her brother, I know what is good for her.” 

The sentiment is not only unexpected especially coming from a man like Nathanael, it is also a far cry from Jesus’ teachings. Simon had been under the impression that the architect liked him and that the past did no longer matter now that both of them followed the Messiah Who didn’t hold it against them, either. It appears that whenever it comes to you, something within Nathanael changes into some kind of protectiveness that borderlines on the extreme. For a moment, Simon thinks back on one of the conversations he has had with you, where you confided that your brother and you didn’t have a lot of family left back home.

“I’m sorry,” Simon mutters, “I want what is best for her, too. She means a whole deal to me.” 

Nathanael scoffs and grits his teeth. “I can see that.” There is a bitterness in his voice that doesn’t sit well with Simon, but he bites his tongue in order to not snap back. 

Something dawns on Simon. As long as Nathanael doesn’t approve of him, there is no way that you and him can be together. Even if Simon happened to ask for your hand, your brother would definitely warn his father about the murderous past of the former Zealot. His face pales upon realising this, his gaze shifting back to find your laughing form having fun with Tamar, Ramah and Mary, his heart clenching painfully inside his chest at the sight of your beautiful smile. 

“You may speak to her, that’s fine,” Nathanael tells him, “But don’t even think of getting involved with her in any other way than just being friends. Got it?” 

There is no use fighting it and Simon knows it, exhaling deeply whilst holding onto some kind of hope that one day he might change Nathanael’s mind. With a curt, almost cold nod, the two end the tense conversation. With a scoff, Nathanael tosses a log into the fire, forcing Simon to lean back as the wood is consumed by the roaring flames. 

With heavy shoulders, Simon processes the warning of your brother, deciding it best to not give either you nor himself false hope by allowing himself in close proximity to you. He knows what he must do, even though it breaks his heart. 

___

A few days pass. The first time you walked up to Simon in an attempt to make smalltalk, he had claimed to be busy with other things and that he’d get back to you later. The second time you took a seat with him, he left his half-eaten dinner with the dirty dishes, saying that he had been full. It’s the third time that it starts to become suspicious, an inkling forming in the back of your mind that son of Zebulon might be actively avoiding you.

It isn’t until the moment Mary comments on it that you take action. “Hey, I thought you and Zee were quite close,” she says one day after picking berries together. “It just looks like he is running away every time you approach, now.” Now that your fears are confirmed, you swallow hard and look through camp to find his lean-to, this time positioned near the tent of Andrew and Thomas.

Served with food for thought, you decide to wait to confront him about it until sundown. After dinner, you find him sitting by himself just on the outskirts of camp, having distanced himself from the rest of the group playing games at the fire. 

“Hey.” 

He visibly tenses and you don’t like the sight of it one bit. 

“Hello.” he dryly greets, voice lacking the usual enthusiasm he expresses whenever he meets with you otherwise.

“How are you doing, Si?” He shrugs in response, barely even looking at you. You walk around his seated form to halt in front of him, almost forcing him to look up at you as your feet now enter his field of vision. “Have you been avoiding me?” 

Although a little less straightforward than your older brother, you still ask the question on your mind right away. “I just thought it would be better for both of us.” 

“Better for both of us? What do you mean by that?” 

Zee swallows hard, peeling an apple with a dull knife before bringing the thin slice to his mouth. “Nathanael thinks it is inappropriate for us to be friends.” 

“Inappr— What?” 

Genuinely offended, you sharply turn back towards camp. Having noticed you head towards Simon earlier, your older sibling has his gaze already fixed on you. Knowing the look in your eyes like none other, Nathanael realises that you must have found out about his disapproval, his shoulders lowering in a sigh as he excuses himself from the fire, getting to his feet. Your eyes lower back to Simon.

“Yes,” Simon continues, “He feels like that my past as a Zealot would make the two of us… Unsuitable.” 

Your brother’s footsteps approach rather loudly and halt a few cubits behind you. “I can see that you two have grown close,” he begins, “But it’s a bit too close for comfort by now, don’t you think?” 

Glaring at Nathanael, you pivot to face him fully. “Too close for comfort?” you ask for clarification. 

Nathanael sighs. “Yes,” says he, “I think a friendly distance between you two is in order.” 

Tilting your head, you attempt to make something of it. “There is nothing strange happening whenever we are near each other, Nath. Sure, we are close friends, but Zee is a very respectful man who hasn’t ever made any advances towards me.” 

“Yet!” Nathanael counters, “I have seen the way he looks at you, (Y/n)! And I don’t like it at all!” 

Your eyes widen as Simon feels his face heat up. This is not at all how he had pictured you finding out about his feelings for you. Your own heart skips a beat as well at the idea of the former Zealot having feelings for you, something that would make you very content in and of itself.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” 

“Look, I just…” Nathanael steps closer as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just want what is good for you, (Y/n). And Simon… He used to be an assassin! A killer doing so for a living! Do you even know what that entails? What that means? Do you really think I would want to see you bind yourself to such a man?”

As your mouth falls slightly open, Simon rises to his feet. “I am no longer the man I once was.” he defends himself, “Just as much as you are the man you were before you met Jesus. We have all changed drastically since we’ve devoted ourselves to this cause. Jesus has changed me as much as he has changed you, and it would be unfair for you to hold my past against me, even whilst the very Messiah Himself doesn’t do that!” 

You nod at Zee’s words and take a few steps in his direction. “Besides, I’m a grown-up woman. I think I can make decisions for myself on who I do and do not want to be with.” Looking over at Simon, you can’t help but feel a small smile form over your lips, unable to fight the fluttering in your abdomen as he mirrors your gentle, longing expression. “And Simon is the kind of person I do want to be with.” 

Nathanael’s gaze alternates between the two of you before he sighs. “Listen, (Y/n), I don’t think that abba would be very pleased if—”

“—Isn’t it enough that he makes me happy, Nathanael?” you cut him off. “Because he does, in a way that no one ever has.”

At your admission, Nathanael is at a loss of words for once. He inspects your face, searching it for any kind of regret or fear, but he finds nothing but genuine adoration of the man in question. In the meantime, Simon feels his heart rage inside his chest wildly whilst he tries to wrap his head around the fact that you have just confessed your feelings for him. 

Something akin to shame creeps into your brother’s features. He lets out a sigh, stepping towards you before taking your hands in his. “I just… You mean so much to me. You are my only sister, one of the few family members I have left. I’m… I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

Opening your mouth, you inhale to speak, but Simon already steps up to reassure the former architect. “I won’t hurt her. I’d be a fool to do so. What I feel for her, I have never felt for anyone ever before, and I am certain that I want to be with her, to cherish and to love her forever. If… If you and your father would let me, that is…” A flush creeps over his cheeks as Simon clears his throat, smiling sheepishly at you as you give him an adoring gaze. 

You have rarely seen your brother this way, but he meticulously gauges your response to Zee’s words. His chest tightens with both happiness and shame at the realisation just how much you and Simon care for one another as well as the fact that he had been about to keep that from you. 

“I’m sorry.” Nathanael suddenly whispers, looking from you to Simon. “I’m sorry for how I treated both of you. Simon, I shouldn’t have said these harsh words to you. I shouldn’t have tried to hold your past against you out of fear for my sister’s wellbeing. That was a low move of me. And (Y/n), I’m sorry that I attempted to ruin this for you. That I couldn’t think past my own prejudice and worries. It was selfish of me. I hope that both of you can forgive me.” 

You squeeze your brother’s hands before releasing them. “I forgive you,” you breathe, smiling softly as he looks up at you with an embarrassed look on his face. Simon hums and gives Nathanael a small bow of his head. “And I forgive you as well, Nathanael. I know that you care a lot for your sister. I promise that I will not disappoint either of you.” 

Nathanael sighs in relief, then claps his hands together. “Hey, I could have had it way worse with a brother-in-law.” 

The three of you chuckle at that before you point a finger at your brother to tell him something. 

“Now, to make amends, you may as well help us with something.” 

“That being?” 

You look over your shoulder at Simon, smiling softly at him before looking back at Nathanael.

“Could you ask Jesus when we might pass through Caesarea Philippi again?”

[imnotkosmic]

Moments from "The Chosen" that live rent free in my head:

• Season two: John the Baptist excitingly screaming "yeah!" when Jesus cast a demon from Caleb.

• Season two: "The Son of Man- that's Me, btw."

• Season two: Simon P and Andrew's argument ("My little brother whom I love very much?")

• Season two: Phillip's introduction was the best.

• Season three: BIG AND LITTLE JAMES HUGGED ON THEIR 2 BY 2 MISSION AND BIG JAMES HAD TO PICK LIL' JAMES UP BECAUSE HE'S SO SMALL.

• Season three: Angry Phillip.

• Season three: When the man broke into Andrew's flat. ("Knock next time!")

• Season three: When Simon P told Nathaniel and Z to be quite.

• Season three: The Sons of Thunder being jealous of each other because of Thomas.

• Season two/three: Thomas asked Ramah to marry him???

• Season one: "I'm not exactly jumping of out my sandals because Creepy John pointed at someone!"

• Season one: When Andrew got that huge coat for Jesus ("I think I could fit all of you in here with Me.")

• Season two/three: Jesus telling John (and Little James I'm pretty sure?) that He loved them.

• Seasons two and three: Jesus calling His disciples by their nicknames.

• Season two: Simon P introducing the others to Simon Z ("That's Nathaniel, he says what first comes to his mind, so don't be offended.")

• Season two: The Son's of Thunder and the Son's of Jonah competing to see who goes fishing. (Sore loser Andrew lol)

[dragongguk]

ok but zee's initial reaction to being paired with matthew!!! the way he's so confused as to why everyone reacted like that bc matthew is (definitely) so endearing to him

[ghostsmp3]

Matthew 5:3-12a (NIV): Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven.

[getting-used-to-different]

The Zealots: This year, we lost our dear friend, Simon Z

Simon Z: Quit telling everyone I'm dead!

The Zealots: Sometimes I can still hear his voice...

[28appleteeth]

Simon Zee oneshot in the works because I love him dearly!! His characterization in The Chosen is so very interesting to me, and he definitely falls under the kind of “human weapon” category of character and he’s learning to deconstruct that and the ideals taught to him and OUGHHH I love him

[fattened-goose]

Stargazing | Philip, Simon the Zealot, and Big James.

A/N: I realize some of these aren’t really under the brim of stargazing, but I couldn’t think of something else that would fit for a title ‘cause I’m not that creative. 😅 these are my first preferences on this blog, and I’d like to thank my dear friend @multifandomsofficial for helping me out with them.

Warnings: possible bad writing and punctuation.

From the first day you’d started to follow Jesus you’d caught his eye. The memory of your first day brought the corners of his lips into an upturned U shape. You looked lovely that day too, but following Jesus had made you even lovelier. You never seemed to pay him any mind though, always spending your time learning scripture with Mary M and Matthew.

Sure, you’d greet Philip in passing but you never seemed drawn to him. He was drawn to you though, which is what made him approach you even though he was nervous. Wiping his palms against his tunic, he approached you, a small grin twisting his lips upward when you greeted him with a smile.

“Shalom, Philip.” The words left you gently and quietly, the small nod of your head that accompanied them boosting his moral.

“Shalom, Y/N, may I join you?”

He fidgeted slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a hopeful glint as he waited for your reply. Heart warming at his inquiry, you nodded quickly before patting the blanket beside you.

“Of course!”

With a widening smile, his skin crinkled around his eyes a bit as he sat down. Scooting so there was a respectful space between you, his fingers brushed against yours lightly in the process, bringing a red tint to his cheeks as well as your own. You, however, failed to notice the blush that covered his cheeks as you gazed up at the stars that blanketed the sky.

Beautiful, dazzling orbs of milky crystal that twinkled brightly around the perfectly full moon. The sounds of the crickets chirping and the wood crackling on the fire only adding to the peaceful delight. The ambience of it all bringing a grin to your face which Philip hadn’t failed to notice, all the more adding to his own grin.

Where you had failed earlier to notice his blush when his fingers brushed yours, you didn’t fail to pick up on him glancing at you from the corner of your eye. It was now your turn to blush, a gentle laugh escaping from your lips at the attention. The sound making him chuckle gently, the two of you breaking the comfortable silence you’d been in.

Daring to look over at him, your eyes landed on his kind dark ones, twinkling in the fire light. A shy smile covered your lips before looking back at the sky.

“Do you like stargazing?” The question breaking the comfortable silence you both had been resting in.

“Yes, but I don’t know enough about it to even know what I’m looking at…” you admitted, eyes drifting back over to his, “I’m a novice.”

“We all have to start somewhere, huh?” Tone light as he winked at you before motioning back up to the sky, his hand sweeping in an arc over it, “would you like to learn some constellations?”

“Only if you’d like to teach me some.” You beamed at him, the sight making his stomach as well as your own flutter.

“Sure, it’s one of my talents; being able to recite Torah at the drop of a hat and pointing out constellations.” His good natured bragging followed by a chuckle and a smile.

“Surely, you have more than two talents.” You teased back, eyes meeting his again as you worked up courage to be a little bolder. Your nerves relaxing a bit due to his kind and goofy demeanor.

“Well, nobody wants to be around a braggart.” He joked, “besides, if I tell you everything I’ll have nothing left to impress you with.” With this he shrugged slightly, pointing back up to the sky and tracing an imaginary line to explain a constellation.

Giving him your full attention, a smile painted its way over your lips, as you listened to him intently. Little did he know, he never really had to do much to impress you.

(Also, if anyone could teach me how to slow gifs down I’d be very thankful.)

~*~

You tossed restlessly in your bedroll, everyone around you in the women’s tent experiencing the most peaceful sleep, except for you of course. It’s not that you weren’t tired, you were of course, it had to be well past midnight after all. You just were having trouble quieting your mind, rolling flat onto your back you sighed deeply. Staring at the darkness that blanketed the inside of the tent.

Sitting up you looked around, making sure everyone was asleep before quietly tiptoeing out of the tent. Looking back one last time you shut the entrance flap, before making your way to the log that sat on the other side of the camp.

The cool air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. Instantly you wished you’d thought to bring your shawl or your blanket with you in order to stave off the cold. Daring to perch on an end of the log, you let out a gasp of surprise when it turned out to be wet. The sound echoing through the quiet atmosphere, making you hold your breath for a minute before standing back up.

A grimace covered your face before a quiet laugh escaped your throat at the ridiculousness of the situation. You shook your head, moving over to the glowing embers that were now the remnants of the once roaring fire that had danced in the makeshift pit situated in middle of the camp. Figuring it would still be somewhat warm you squatted down, settling on the edge of the pit.

It wasn’t as warm as it could be but it would suffice until you went back to the women’s tent. Staring softly at the orange and red embers your mind soon slowed down. Slowed down as much as possible before you were startled by someone coming up behind you. You barely heard them, had it not been so quiet you wouldn’t have heard them at all.

What if it’s a Roman?

Panicking, you stood and turned a bit too quickly, stumbling backward as you rocked abruptly on your heels, the only saving grace being the person’s hand grabbing onto your shoulder in order to steady you.

“Y/N, are you ok?”

Taking a minute to get your bearings, you rocked forward slightly on your toes before steadying yourself. You were embarrassed to say the least, especially after you saw that it was Simon. Your cheeks pink due to the epic blunder you’d just subjected him too. Exhaling, you nodded quickly as you smiled up at him, “I’m glad it’s you!”

The expression rushing out before you’d fully formulated what you wanted to say making your cheeks grow even redder and butterflies start up in your stomach. Simon on the other hand looked at you with slightly widened eyes for a second, smiling at you gently before squeezing your shoulder lightly. Your breath catching in your throat slightly, at this point he had to know how you felt about him. He was too perceptive not to.

“Let’s sit down.” Releasing your shoulder, he removed his cloak with a flourish, laying it on the ground for you to sit on. The chivalrous act making your heart melt slightly as he studied you carefully.

“You’re cold.” He mumbled, stoking the embers to get the fire going again, your eyes drawn to his muscles that moved in perfect sync under the sleeves of his tunic. Your face grew hot and you forced yourself to look away, thankful that you did before he turned around again. Fixing you with a friendly grin, he reached out to pluck a leaf out of your hair with gentle precision.

“It should start getting warmer now.” motioning to the fire in front of the two of you.

“How’d you know it was me out here?” Your eyebrows raising slightly in bewilderment as the question rolled off your tongue. His head cocked while he surveyed you, lips poised in a warm smile, “I heard someone moving around out here, so, I looked out the tent and saw that it was you.”

This surprised you even more, you’d tried to be quiet but you’d failed, with your mouth agape you gawked at him, eyes wide and unblinking causing a chuckle to leave his throat, “don’t worry, you weren’t being loud.”

“How’d you hear me then?”

“I have very keen senses.” He smiled at you, the affectionate look causing your stomach to drop and your cheeks to heat up.

“So, keen in fact…” he paused, his finger drawing an imaginary line across the sky, the line following a glistening silver streak, making your eyes light up as you gazed after it.

“It’s a shooting star.” He stated, watching you look at it with amazement still glistening in your eyes, “make a wish.”

“Simon, it’s beautiful.” The words a whisper, your eyes following it until it disappeared from view. Turning to see him grinning at you, you grinned back, “I wish I knew how you spot stuff so quickly.”

“Time and practice.” His voice almost lower than a whisper now and laced with embarrassment, “I’ve spent a lot of time outside at night…”

He was no doubt referring to his former days, too embarrassed to meet your eyes, a sight that made you frown a bit.

“But, that’s all behind you now, Jesus said that we’re no longer what we once were.” The words comforting him enough that he shot you a shy smile. You both sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them. While he looked to be in thought, laughing at the yawn that left you.

“I think I’ll head in now.”

Nodding at you, he stood and offered you his hand to pull you up off the ground, your stomach dropping at the contact of his calloused palm against your skin. He smiled at you, watching as you walked a few steps toward the tent before whispering, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Simon.” The tired smile you gave him melting his heart as you entered the tent. Smiling softly to himself, he walked back to his own tent. Fingers laced behind his head as went, hoping one day he’d be able to work up the courage to tell you about his feelings for you.

Laying with your head on your husband’s arm that was positioned behind you, you both gazed up at the stars.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” You asked, cuddling up closer to James only to have his arm wrap around you tightly in an effort to shield you from the cold. His lips pressed gently onto your temple, the scruffiness of his beard tickling you slightly.

A laugh rose from your throat at the sensation, your head turned toward his, giving him a return peck on the cheek. His eyebrows raising at you slightly, before smiling over at you, his fingers tangling in your hair.

“Not as beautiful as you, my heart.”

“James…” his name left your lips with a giggle, the soft blush that covered your cheeks melting his heart and making his smile widen as you snuggled closer to him. The sounds of the others laughing and joking around the fire just barely audible as the wind carried their voices toward you.

“I’m glad we were able to sneak away for a bit even though it’s cold, you’re a far better companion for looking at stars than John is.”

The shiver that raced its way through your body causing James to pull you even closer. Turning onto your stomach, you rested your chin on James’ chest, a coy grin making its way to your lips. The sight making him release a breathy laugh, “what?”

His fingers gently separating strands of your hair, while his dark eyes drank in the sight of you, obviously pleased with the jest that was poised on your lips.

“You did a lot of stargazing with John, did you?”

At this his brow furrowed slightly at you, as he fought off a smile, “In a manner of speaking.”

The mischievous glimmer in your eye forcing the smile onto his face, a throaty laugh escaping past his lips as he elaborated, “the stars are still out in the morning if you get up early enough, although, I don’t snuggle up to John like this.”

His arms giving you a tender squeeze in an effort to emphasize the word snuggle, eyes meeting yours with a warm affection glinting in them. Smiling at him, your fingers traced along the neck of his tunic before teasing, “you don’t snuggle up to Andrew or Simon either do you?”

A sour look crossed his face for a second, only to be replaced by a gentle smile as a playful tut left his lips, “especially not to them, not even for all the silver in the world.”

You laughed quietly, as his fingers tangled in the ends of you hair, “how fortunate for me to get all your cuddles.”

“How fortunate indeed.” He quipped, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, his heart swelling with tenderness and warmth as you curled into him more, your eyes looking back up at the sky with admiration as he glanced at you with equal parts love and awe.

[nobrain-onlysteven]

forget zodiac signs… who’s your favorite disciple from The Chosen?

[stuff-the-chosen-didnt-say]

Zee: Get kidnapped. You’ll find out who your real friends are, I promise you that. 

Judas: I feel like there are probably steps you could take before that one

[straynoahide]

“The Lord has need of it” - The Chosen 4x08 'Humble'

Simon the Zealot quickly understood the given task and actually said nothing, Matthew asked many questions as to why they’re stealing a donkey. Simon later on referenced a prophecy of the coming of Israel’s King, humbly riding a donkey.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Simon the Zealot | Right Place, Right Time | Romantic

Dialogue prompt: “I don’t know what to say, or do.” 

After decades of being left in the dark about his fate, you reunite with your childhood sweetheart under the least expected circumstances. 

Requested by Katie

Ramah is engrossed in her reading as you take slow, deliberate sips of your drink, legs folded underneath you as you sit in the shade of the tent. The days have been slow but you have been managing well enough, making yourself useful by gathering herbs and fruits as well as supporting the women in their endeavours. You admire Ramah’s eagerness to learn how to read and write, for you personally haven’t found the courage to pick up either a scroll or a pen yet. Perhaps that one day, you’ll feel brave enough to give it a go, although you are fully aware that you aren’t getting any younger. 

 Mary enters the tent, wondering out loud how Ramah is doing.

“How is it?” 

She takes a seat on the opposite side of the table. 

“It’s hard work.” admits Ramah, “How old were you when you learned this?” 

You look at the woman in question, also wondering about this. 

“I was young.” Mary states. “I think it’s easier when you’re a child, but I had a better teacher than you.”

There is truth to the statement that things are always easier to learn when done in the prime years of childhood, when minds maintain information like a sponge, but you feel like she is cutting herself short on the latter part of her sentence. 

“I’m sorry about before.” Mary apologises about something that you weren’t part of, so you aren’t certain what is going on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ramah reassures, but Mary is adamant about it.

“I just feel, um… I don’t know, I… I saw a Roman on horseback today when I was picking persimmons.”  Her brow furrows, obviously troubled, and concern tugs at your heart as you lean closer to her. You have heard about her past and what trauma it had prompted within her.

“Did he question you?” you ask before Ramah can. Mary shakes her head. 

“No… He didn’t even see me… But just the sight of him made me…” she hesitates, “Filled me with…”

When she doesn’t find the right words to say, Mary lets her shoulders slump. “I just dropped my basket and ran. Totally ignored the prayers in my hands.” There is distress in her expression.

“This is hard. Not just the readings.” Ramah says, and it somewhat seems to lessen Mary’s tension as she inhales deeply through her nose, lifting her chin a bit. 

“Do you want to try again?” Mary smiles a little. 

Ramah needs a moment to gather the courage before grabbing her things to start a new reading exercise. As she does so, Mary’s face twists into a grimace. The woman reaches for her forehead as she frowns, rubbing her brow. 

“What’s wrong?” Ramah’s concerned voice sounds. “Mary?” 

You reach over to a distressed Mary in the hopes of comforting her, when a strange noise tears through the surface of the tent. 

“What’s that sound?” 

As you witness Mary’s sudden change of mood, you realise that something is seriously wrong. The three of you rise to your feet, Ramah already exiting the tent as you help up Mary, Thomas and Matthew soon joining you right outside. 

“What’s that sound?” Mary is clearly agitated, her body tense. 

“Are you okay? Mary?” Matthew worriedly queries. 

Before she can respond, a strange man rushes from between the tents, back straightened in an unnatural way. Ramah squeals. Your heart rears inside your chest as he sharply pivots to you and your friends, a strange sound tearing from his lungs. Out of protectiveness, Thomas holds a blunt knife out in the unwanted guest’s direction. “That smell…” The dishevelled looking figure says it with such venom in his voice that it makes the hairs of your neck stand on end. “It’s on all of you, but worse! Putrid!”

“Don’t come any closer.” Matthew bravely warns, stepping in front of Mary. The man smirks mockingly. Mary brushes past the former tax-collector, attempting to appear confident.

“…Lillith?” the man whispers.

Mary narrows her eyes and steps closer. “I don’t answer to that name.” 

The man dangerously hums. “Hmmm… They told me about you.”

“Did they?” 

“All seven of them.” The man nods.

“My name is Mary.” You’ve never seen her in this way. “It was always Mary.” 

The stranger’s arms flex at his sides.

“Oh, the stories they had.” He approaches her, huffing in mocking amusement. “You’re scared.” 

Mary closes more distance. “What’s your name?” she whispers, so softly that you nearly don’t catch it. You share a look with Ramah, who is equally as confused as to what is going on. 

“Belial, spawn of Oriax, fifth knight of Legion.” A chill runs down your spine as it suddenly clicks inside your mind — this is a man possessed by demons. He grins wickedly at Mary, who shakes her head.

“What’s your real name?” 

The man’s muscles seem to convulse inside his neck as he grits his teeth, grinding them together as if everything inside of his being is battling his nature. “That smell, it’s on all of you!” 

“What did your mother call you?” Mary determinedly insists.

He clasps as his throat, his lips trying to form the words. “C-Cal… Cal—” He exhales, suddenly straightening his back. A smug look appears on his face, as if taken over once again. “Can’t say.” He chuckles darkly. 

“Please say your name.” Mary pleads. 

The man steps forward threateningly, ready to reach for her, grab her collar and push her to the ground, when a sudden force collides with his back. Another stranger yanks him away from her, making the demon-possessed man stagger and grunt. A dagger shimmers in the sunlight — curved, sharp, lethal. 

“Leave.” The man with the dagger commands. Something about his shoulders and the way his hair curls strikes a strange chord of familiarity within you. The possessed man sits on his hands and knees, crawling towards his assailant. He darkly chuckles, as if about to say something. It’s enough to make the unexpected rescuer to be caught off-guard and is tackled to the ground with a force that can’t be coming just from the measly bones of the haunted man. 

As the weapon is flung from his hand, the stranger who pulled the possessed man away from Mary immediately rolls and reaches for it, but to no avail. They struggle in the dust for a brief moment before the possessed man’s hands close around his throat, putting inhumane pressure onto it. The rest of you are frozen in shock; Thomas is still holding the knife in the direction of the fight, as if it would make a difference. 

“Out!” Your hear His voice before you see Him. Jesus rushes towards the scene together with Simon, Andrew, Philip and John the Baptist. “Out of Him!” The Legion listens without a second of hesitation, the stranger’s back arching as his head is thrown backwards. It seems like a painful process as he collapses next to the man who had rescued Mary earlier. Out of breath, he staggers away from the now-limp figure laying next to him. 

A beat of intense silence passes. Everyone’s gaze is fixed upon the trembling form of the formerly possessed man. John the Baptist — in typical John fashion — cheers. “Yeah!” It would have been amusing under other circumstances, but everyone is so in shock about what has taken place, that all faces remain serious. Jesus slowly approaches the quivering man, putting a hand on his shoulder to help him turn to face Him. “It’s alright. Welcome back.” 

They share a few words whispered too softly to be heard by you. Your gaze is instead focused on the man who had pulled the possessed man away from Mary, trying to figure out where you recognise him from. Jesus pulls the formerly tortured man, apparently named Caleb, to his feet as John curiously steps closer to the man with the dagger.

“When did you pick up the Zealot?” he asks Jesus. Your heart drops. A Zealot? You are immediately on edge, fully aware that assassins are bad news. The supposed Zealot is still out of breath as John offers him his hand. “I’m John.” 

Without tearing his gaze away from Jesus, the Zealot gets to his feet. There is something akin to awe in his features now that you get a closer look at him. Those eyes. You’d recognise them everywhere, and now that you get a proper moment to drink him in, you realise who it is. Simon.

You don’t dare break the moment between him and Jesus, though. Simon’s gaze is watery as he gazes upon Jesus. 

“Did You heal my brother in Jerusalem?” 

Jesus smiles, and you feel a large gawk spread over your face, your hand covering your mouth as you realise he’s talking about Jesse. “Rabbi?” 

“Yes.” 

Simon takes a moment to breathe, his face twisting into raw emotion. “Then You are…” 

“Yes.” 

“And then where are your ah…” 

“They’re right here.” Jesus gestures at the rest of the group as Simon takes it in. His eyes flicker through the unassuming, ragtag crowd of followers. “Not the fierce warriors you pictured by My side when you were in the catacombs?” 

Simon chuckles at that. 

“There are more who are not here at the moment. Let’s go for a walk, Simon, son of Zebulon.” 

Before Jesus can walk off with him, though, you call out his name. “Simon of Ashkelon?” He freezes and slowly turns to you, wondering how you know his origin. He hadn’t observed you properly when taking in the followers a few moments prior, so when he now takes a good look at you, recognition floods his features.  

“(Y/n)?” he realises in a whisper. Simon looks at Jesus, then back at you. The Messiah smiles knowingly. “(Y/n), how are you here? Why— What—”

Jesus cuts the conversation short.

“—You two catch up later. I need to speak to Simon, first.” Then, Jesus gives the rest a few tasks to take care of Caleb, who is still injured and hungry due to his earlier possession. “Boys, tend to his wounds. Thomas, go get him some food. Ramah, check on Mary, please.”

They all nod as Jesus leads away Simon. Your mind is racing with a thousand questions as he gives you one final look over his shoulder before following your Rabbi. Had John’s suggestion be right, that he was indeed a Zealot?

“You two seem to know one another.” Ramah is stating the obvious but you don’t sense irritation because of the statement. You stare at Simon and Jesus as they disappear into the distance with a solemn expression on your face, all the memories from the past suddenly flooding back and settling deep inside your chest.

“We do.” you confess, “We were childhood friends back in our hometown Ashkelon. His older brother, Jesse, fell from a tree when he was young and got paralysed from the waist down. In our younger days, we played together a lot, and when we were teenagers, well… I thought we would end up together, and I believed that he felt the same way. Then one day, he was just gone. Not a single message left behind for me. Nothing. And now I hear that he might have become a Zealot?” There is unresolved hurt in your voice that seeps through before you can even realise it has formed on your tongue. Ramah puts a hand on your shoulder and gently squeezes upon hearing the pain you are clearly still feeling. “And now, he is here. What is going on?” 

“I’m sure he will tell you in due time,” Ramah comforts you, “Let him speak to Jesus first. I’m confident he will come to you next. Now, I’m going to see if  Mary is okay.” 

You nod, nervously picking at your nails as you start pacing back and forth. You are still trying to make sense of Simon being here, what brought him to this place and what caused him to weep before Jesus the moment he saw Him, and what the deal with Jesse is.

Although convinced that Simon will tell you, you still feel a bit anxious to speak to him again in private after such a long time. 

After what feels like forever, the two walk back into camp. Simon walks up to you right away. There is an obvious uneasiness in his gaze, as if he has been caught doing something he hadn’t been supposed to do, or if you were his mother about to chastise him. “We need to talk.” There is a sternness in your voice that only intensifies this expression. 

“Shall we go somewhere more private, then?” he suggests, which you agree upon. The two of you head over to a more secluded area just outside of the camp, hidden away by the trees. A log lays on the ground on which the two of you take a seat in an attempt to make this unexpected reunion a little more comfortable. Turning to Simon, you take a deep breath before speaking.

“So, you are a follower of Jesus now, I take it?” 

He smiles and rests his hands on his knees. “I am. And you are, too. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” 

You let out a pleasant hum at that. A brief silence follows.

“I was convinced I was never going to see you again.” you admit.

Simon lets out a noise. “Likewise, (Y/n). Especially here, with Jesus. What landed you with Him?”

“I heard accounts of miracles and decided to check their reliability. I suppose I got more than what I bargained for.” You smile a bit at the memory, which is definitely a good one. Your childhood friend lets out a small hum as he observes your expression, feeling his heart swell upon seeing it.

“How about you? All these years ago… What happened?”  

“I left Jesse a note. Didn’t he tell you?” 

You give a shake of your head. Simon draws a sharp breath, realising his brother wanted to protect you from the hurt that you’d have felt, had you known what he had been up to in these past years of his absence.

He gives you a look — apologetic? — and scratches his jaw in a bit of an awkward manner, as if nervous to admit something. 

“I… Ran away, as you know. To… To train and get stronger.”

“Did you… Did you really join the Zealots?” 

Simon swallows hard, shame shimmering inside his gaze as he gazes at you. You had deserved to know earlier. He should have told you in person, for it would have saved you a lot of hurt.

“Yes.” He whispers. “I did indeed join the Zealots of the Fourth Philosophy. I… I hope you will not hate me for it.”

You feel the colour drain from your face. Now, the supposed implication has been confirmed by Simon himself. The man you had been heartbroken about had left to become an actual assassin? A murderer? It takes a moment to gather your thoughts. Simon waits patiently for you to speak first. About a minute passes before you find the courage to open your mouth again.

“You joined the Zealots…” you whisper, running a hand down your face as your voice teeters on disbelief. 

“The Zealots. You became an assassin? Really? That was the reason you left— The legacy you risked it all for?! Do you know how devastated Jesse was when you left—” 

“I know, I know, I— I’ve never killed anyone, but when I visited Jerusalem I found out that Jesus—”

“—Do you know how devastated I was?” 

You don’t mean to raise your voice, but it happens nevertheless. Unannounced tears suddenly roll down your cheeks, causing Simon to have to resist the urge to reach out and brush them away. 

“When you left, you never let us know anything. You never wrote— We didn’t even know if you were alive in the first place! Turns out you were learning on how to be a killer…!” 

The heartbrokenness in your voice seeps through and Simon feels guilt shunt through his chest. 

“Jesse moved to Jerusalem with the help of some friends from the village. My father died while I was out there just— Just waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and you never returned!” 

“You waited for me?” Simon’s voice wavers as you swallow the lump in your throat — or at least attempt to — and you give him a soundless nod, averting your gaze as you suddenly feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. 

“I know you didn’t owe me anything, but I just… I thought we… You know... That we would eventually end up…” you can’t finish the rest of your sentence without tearing up too much, and let out a shaky breath to keep yourself from bursting out in tears. All these years of worrying, paired with the loss of your father, your silent hope for him to return; all its weight came crashing down at once into a strange concoction of grief and heartbreak about something that you had so desperately wanted but never was. 

“I’m sorry— If I had known…” Simon sounds deflated, as if he has just been hit with a truth that had been in front of him all along, and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “Honestly, (Y/n), I don’t know what to say, or do. All that I know that I should have realised all of this way before I joined the Zealots, and… Well, now that we follow Jesus… That changes everything, doesn’t it?” 

You wipe your tears on your sleeve as you overthink his words. You let your eyes focus back on his facial features since it had become blurred by your tears. There is a certain softness in his features that you have never seen before — not even in your childhood — and you wonder if meeting Jesus has had anything to do with it. You’re know that ever since Jesus, nothing has ever been the same for you, either. 

“It does.” you mutter, your pain ebbing away slowly. “Everything that matters now is Him.” 

“Would things have been different if I hadn’t left?” Simon wonders out loud.

“Do you really need to ask?” 

Simon sighs. He already knows the answer. 

“What we should be wondering instead…” you whisper, “Would it have led us both to Jesus, had things been different back then? Had you remained, would Jesse have gone to Jerusalem and met with the Messiah? Would you have believed, Simon, if not for all of that?” 

A brief silence follows as he lets the words hang in the air. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. The circumstances put me in Jerusalem, about to assassinate a Roman senator, right where I witnessed Jesse standing on his own feet after decades of being paralysed. I can’t say for certain what would have happened if I had not joined the Zealots. Not to condone it, of course. I… In my note, to Jesse… I said that I would know that if I saw him standing on his feet again, I’d know that the Messiah had come… Lo and behold… I had to keep my word. Jesse needed to be there to meet Jesus, and I needed to be there to meet Jesse.” 

You can’t help a shiver of a smile from spreading over your lips.

“You know what, Si?” you mutter, “Perhaps we would have reached this point right here and now even under different conditions, but still… God has turned both our paths in His direction, and Jesus has called us by name to follow Him. We are right here, right now, right where we are supposed to be.” 

“I hope and pray you can forgive me, (Y/n). I understand if not, that I’ve hurt you too much to deserve such a thing, and that I—” 

“I do. I already have.” you whisper. Grabbing his hand, you squeeze it softly. He returns the gesture before releasing it. The same thrill you always felt while he was near in your youth is still there. That never changed. “Jesus wants you here. He asked you the most important question of your life and you answered positively. That means that I want you here, too. Regardless of what you did in the past.”

Your genuine smile has Simon sigh in relief. He opens his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but he decides against it. When you urge him on by giving him a look, he gives you a smile that is almost rueful, his eyes shimmering with something you can’t quite place. 

“It’s too early to ask. Unfair, too.” 

Your heart stutters. “To ask what?” 

Simon lets out a shaky breath. “I… Seeing you again after such a long time, it’s like… It feels like we’ve never been apart. I’ve… I’ve missed you a whole lot while I was gone, and I never expected to meet with you again, but here we are… And… Well, I feel… I feel that suddenly, everything makes a lot more sense in life. Not only with Jesus, but also that I’m finally face to face with you again.” 

He seems a bit abashed upon admitting it, “Back in the day, I was very sweet on you. I just never gathered the courage to confront my own feelings and discuss them with you. I guess that what I’m trying to get is, is that… Do you think, that after all this time, and I understand if not… Do we still have a chance? That things… May work out between us, despite all of this?” 

“Despite all of this?” you parrot, “Really? I’d say… I’d say especially because of this, Simon. I think we are both here for a reason, that we meet again under these new circumstances that neither of us expected. That God made us wait. For here. For now. But…” 

Something anxious crosses his gaze — an expression you’ve hardly ever seen on him — so you quickly give Simon a reassuring smile. “But now, we should focus on Jesus first and foremost. We will still wait for God’s timing when it comes to a potential marriage.” 

Simon exhales, agreeing with your words. “I… Yes, that should be our main goal. And whatever else may come of it, it will come once the time is right.” 

You hum and smile, something akin to amusement glittering in your eyes, and Simon gives you a curious look. “What, what’s so funny?” 

“Well, I’ve waited for decades. I think I can wait for a few more years if necessary.” 

At that, Simon chuckles, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. 

This day and age, here and now. Both of you are right where you are supposed to be.  

[imnotkosmic]

just watched season 2 ep 5 today with my family (we watch at least two/three episodes each Sunday) and throght I'd share my favourite moments:

• Matthew: "you get very illogical when your emotional!" Thomas: :o

• Matthew again, but with time with the SPOON.

• Matthew AGAIN (last one with Matthew I promise) he watched Thomas squeeze the lemon on the cucumbers and copyed him, which was adorable.

• John's yell when Jesus cast the demon from Caleb "yeah!!"

• John screaming and scaring Jesus and company.

• Jesus and John's little talk on the log.

• "I'll stop you there. Your *both* Simons"

• Zee just standing there like: 😬 when Jesus and John say goodbye

• Jesus *yeeting* Zee's daggers into the lake.

• Simon P introducing Simon Zee to the others

• and ATTICAS (or whatever his name is lol) COMING OUT OF NOWHERE and picking up the dagger.

• Jesse!! ❤️

[dragongguk]

3x02 — "Two by Two"

"I am confident that the two of you will do and say great things because of your pasts"

[hi-there-buddies]

Guys I’m sorry. I try not to talk about religion or politics on my blog but I just have to say

I’ve been watching The Chosen and the fact that they’re setting up Gaius to be the centurion that asks Jesus to heal his servant is making me BAWL

[getting-used-to-different]

i had a feeling this would happen but i still felt Matthew's panic

[fxshrxfmxn]

How to Request

I have decided that I will write for The Chosen. Maybe a good decision, maybe a bad decision. But here we are.

This seems like overkill right now if I’m honest, but I might thank myself later.

As of this moment, I do not have a masterlist, however, I do tag all of my writings so you can search them and read them all.

Just search:

fxshrxfmxn writings

Or

fxshrxfmxn fanfic

And they should all be made available to you to find relatively easily💖

To make things a bit easier for me and how I want to stay within my beliefs, I’m setting up guidelines for requesting writing from me for The Chosen.

Before I begin, it is important that we all understand that I am writing for the storyline of The Chosen. Each event in The Chosen was either spun by the writers and directors OR pulled from the Bible itself. I am writing for the character that the actors in the show portray, not the real people themselves. The Bible and the Chosen, to me, are separate things and I will be treating them as such. (I am for sure okay with talking about scripture itself, but in a different kind of context.)

Anyways…

With traditionally romantic writings, things tend to be a bit touchy and comfy. That’s fine, I love that. Lord knows, I will be huggy with my future other half before marriage(I don’t think I could just not touch them, luckily our current culture allows for that.)

But the culture in bible time was very different. The parents would arrange with the parents, or the parents would talk to the guy. There wasn’t dating as it is now, certainly not premarital kissing or hugging, not in public anyways, because it was seen as improper. Also pretty much no touching. So, I really want to try and keep things more proper.

In A Misunderstanding (my fic about John the Beloved) I do think that’s the most contact I will allow for “romantic” fics, that I write. Not entirely true to the proper culture back then, but less scandalous, y’know?

(I might budge the line occasionally, but if it doesn’t feel right, I just won’t write it. I will for sure communicate that to the requester.)

That being said, I have only written for John so far, I will write for anyone in the show. I am female, so anything “romantic”, I will only write for the men in the show(anyone BUT Jesus(obviously)), and beyond that if you want just a chill fic about hanging with the Marys and Ramah and Tamar, I can do that. I love writing fanservice, just shenanigans and things of that nature are super fun. Give me a challenge, I love those.

So: Keep it E for everyone, not even PG. Minimal hand holding; maybe a few hugs. No kissing on the mouth and certainly no NSFW. Men and women, who were not married, weren’t allowed to be alone together. So that is the way my fics will be.

(Not telling other people they shouldn’t be writing it, (you write what you like and are comfortable with) I am just setting a personal standard for myself and will be keeping to it.)

I am a female and, as this is already out of my comfort zone, will only be writing from the female perspective.

NO:

-NSFW

-Mouth to Mouth(kissing)(unless it’s a marriage fic, which Idek if I’m comfortable writing that yet)(idk why either so don’t ask)

-No being completely alone with the opposite sex

-if the character is married or already betrothed in the show, please keep the request platonic.

-edit: 10/23 anything same sex romantic is a no as well. I will not change my mind. Any messages/comments will be deleted/reported and you will be blocked if you harass me about it. We can discuss things without those coming into the mix.

YES:

-Shenanigans(practical jokes and things of that nature, family friendly comedy stuff)

- Girl time with the female disciples

-Found family is my favorite trope, so anything about learning to cohabitate in a camp with a bunch of Christ’s followers? Yes, please.

-prompts about Christ accepting you as you are, calling you to follow him and helping you turn from old lifestyles are fics that I think can be very healing. (Things like this I will be discerning on a prompt to prompt basis)

Characters I will write for at least once:

Simon Peter(platonic only please)

Simon Z

Thomas(platonic only please)

Andrew

Matthew(either romantic or platonic for now until we actually figure out where his relationship with Mary is going)

Nathaniel

Thaddeus

Big James

Little James

John the Beloved(of course)

Judas(tentatively because I have a personal bias to get over(I had always thought of him as the villain(which isn’t the case))

Philip

Any of the girls(Mary, Mary M., Ramah, Tamar, Eden, Salome)(platonic only please)

Jesus(platonic only please(I shouldn’t have to say that, but there’s always someone)

Potentially Quintus, Atticus, and/or Gaius(platonic only please) (I would actually prefer platonic for all three, but I will use discernment on a prompt by prompt basis.)

TL;DR: Every prompt that comes to me, I will use my own discernment for whether I am comfortable or not with writing it, all I ask is that you be respectful if your prompt is not answered the way you want it to be. If you request something that goes against everything on the “NO” list, your request will be discarded, so I recommend you at least read that bit.

Tutorial on how to request anything from me:

Use the ask button! Or send me a message! Both are located in the upper right hand corner for mobile. I don’t use a computer, so I’m not sure where those buttons are at on the computer.

I also prefer dialogue prompts have at least two bits of dialogue and a genre with it, just for a bit more guidance on what you want.

Will do headcanons, but if you could say whether you want separate headcanons or just a group headcanon so that I give you exactly what you want and don’t have to guess, that’d be great.

I love you so much because Jesus loves you so much and wants the best for you. I respect you as a person, the way Jesus respects you and ask that you extend me the same courtesy.

Blessings to each and every one of you. 💗✨🫶🏻