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vintagepresley · 7 months

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Don’t feel pressured to post this

It baffles me how people used to be and still get so angry about gay,bi,lesbian people. Like if a person loves someone who happens to be the same sex as them… so what? Im a Christian and it breaks my heart when I hear how gay people were told they would go to hell by ‘Christians’ and I quote Christian’s because Christian’s are supposed to be respectful and not spread hate. And racism, there are still so many racists that have so much hate in them, it’s disgusting and disturbing. I first learnt about slavery and racism when I was 11-12 in school and then I did some other research at home and I remember being so horrified and disgusted at slave owners that inflicted so much pain onto black people. Simply because of their skin colour, something that no one can control. It disgusts me how people could and can have so much hate to want to torture a group of people because of their skin colour. And so many non black people ignore the history of black people. I see non black people doing braids that are cultural to black people. Like I know black hair is stunning (and I adore black hairstyles. They’re so beautiful I love the dedication they all put into it) but people seem to ignore that is has a history. this is from what I’ve learnt. Please tell me if I’m missing something! -braids are a protective hairstyle for their type of hair. Black people naturally have curly hair and it comes in different textures and sizes. Black people and white people have different hair types. It will damage white people’s hair. - black slaves would not be given food, so they would hide it in their hair so they could survive. It also breaks my heart when I see black people wishing they were white, only because they’ve been made fun of for being black and have therefore become ashamed of it, or picked on for their ethinical features. One of my best friends was upset because she was made fun of. And I hate the people that make them feel that way. Black people are beautiful, their cultures are beautiful. Whenever I listen to black Artists, I cry a lot of the time because you can always feel the emotion in their voices. I love gospel music. And don’t even get me started on the food, black people make the most exquisite food.

And racists go about their day hating black people, whist using things that black people invented.

it also makes me laugh how (mostly) men were so angry about elvis when he started out. How tf was he vulgar. They’d have a heart attack if they saw what happens now lol.

WHEW.. This was a lot. So I’m going to answer it in sections, lol. But I agree with everything you’ve said.

I’m going to be completely transparent. I grew up Christian and to be honest the church was just never for me. That sort of religion and way of thinking. I’m a spiritual person but in others ways. Because being apart of the LGBT myself and someone who isn’t completely out. I’ve always just had a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to Christians. They preach one thing but behave another when someone is different from them. It’s not all of them. There are people like you who are open minded and who do accept people as they say God wants you to. But there’s a lot who aren’t that nice. Who are judgement or find the LGBT evil or say it’s a sin. (My mom is one of those people and that’s why I haven’t come out to her.) but then you have these annoying ass born again Christians who suddenly have so much hate to spew. One of my best friends (who I no longer consider my best friend) has become this way. She’s so judgement and so worried that the LGBT are influencing her kids because omg they have pride stuff at target. Like ain’t nobody worried about your damn kids. You should be protecting your kids from actual predators not the LGBT. Then we almost got into an argument because shes like “I can’t understand why the LGBT has to be so out like why can’t they just stay in the closet and do what they do instead of letting us all know.” And I’m like huh?????? So naturally I’m like okay why don’t you STRAIGHTS keep what you do in the closet so the rest of us don’t have to know. Like what kind of shit??? Sorry, I’m ranting. But that’s how I feel about that. Now I’m not against religion or anything, it’s just not for me. Because I can’t take the hypocrisy within the church. But I am friends with people who are religious but don’t have those hateful views which is great!

The racism is a whole other thing. But that’s just something that’s never gonna change. Racism is taught. People who are racist will continue to teach their children to be the same way and so on. It’s sad. Yeah, white people and the braids.. there was this girl on TikTok who had gotten box braids and she was white and many people told her not to do it because it will mess up her hair. Then she was going off on people just for her to take them out and have to cut half her hair off because the braids fucked them up. Like those protective styles are not for your hair and I wish they would stop trying to argue otherwise. It’s sad that people do make fun of black people for their hair and making people feel terrible and wishing they were a different race. When there’s nothing wrong with our hair. I’m sorry that happened to your friend.

I get that because when I was younger I wished I was too because my hair was so unmanageable and I hated that I couldn’t look like other people because my hair was just a different texture. But eventually you do grow to love your hair and see that there are so many things we can do with our hair. It just takes people time to realize that. I know it took me time to also realize that. Now I’ve got dreadlocks. (Which are taking forever to grow 😭)

But what also makes me upset is the hate within our community and how we treat each other. Because it’s not just white people or whoever that make fun of black people. Sometimes it’s your own damn people. I speak from experience. So, I’m lightskin but I’m fully black. But growing up of course I had other black people make comments on how I talk, the music I listen to and just my skin. Black people come in all sorts of colors. Doesn’t make us any less black. I don’t understand why if you do something that’s not “typically black” then “oh, you’re a white girl” or make comments about you wanting to be being white. Even how I talk and I notice this with other black people who’ve said people in our community make fun of how some may talk. I feel like there’s such a big stereotype that we are supposed to talk a certain way just because we’re black. Like no, depending on where you grew up I feel like you just adapt to talking that way. I don’t understand this “You talk white” because I speak clearly?? Why are we conforming to these stereotypes that black people just talk “ghetto” or “hood”. Like don’t let people make you think you’re only supposed to talk one way because society says so.

It just annoys me and I’m so glad to see other black people speak up about the fact that this happens so often in our community if a black person may talk differently, may listen to music that isn’t rap or r&b and how we get shamed for it or called white for it. Make it make sense??

Nothing ANNOYS ME MORE than when racists hate black people so much but the love the culture, the music, the slang, the hairstyles. But then can’t stand us, lol. PLEASE MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE.

Lmao yeah, the fact that men were so mad about Elvis but today is much worse. 😂

Anyway.. sorry this was crazy long and I kinda went on a rant that probably didn’t even hit all your points. This is just something that’s always bothered me between the LGBT and Christian’s and racism/hate in both in and out of the black community.

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filipinoizukuu · 3 years

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Pls share about the Gospel of Judas 👀

, im SO glad someone asked because this topic is nigh always pingponging around in my head and the fact i get to ramble about it means the WORLD to me. TW ahead for canon-typical violence, gore, and other such discussions of all that fun heretical stuff!

Now, to preface this, I just wanted to say that I’m not a licensed professional in anything related to theology nor religion nor historical artifacts. I am. as we all are deep down inside, a simple teenager with ridiculous hyper-fixations and a vast ocean of random information that will not be of any importance to my career or home life whatsoever. Easily, many of the things I talk about could either be wrong or debunked, but I will try my best to explain the Book of Judas as I understood it.

Among the many books that make up what we know as the Bible today, there were various seemingly ‘missing perspectives’ and inconsistencies that existed between gospels. One of the reasons for this was the fact that the Bible in and of itself was a compiled work that was originally recorded years after the oral tradition had passed. What is or isn’t ‘canon’ often depended on the rulings of past Popes who worked with historians to determine the authenticity of ancient artifacts that either proved or contested the canonical teachings of the Bible--one of the more popular debunked samples being The Shroud of Turin, which while being ruled as a fake by Pope Clement the VII a long time ago, still has its authenticity being debated until today.

It’s important to remember that the canon status of ancient artifacts. while somewhat reliant on Papal confirmation, can sometimes be contested and interpreted to each individual’s discretion.

And among all of these artifacts, there is my favorite one of all--The Book of Judas. Now, factually speaking, the Gospel of Judas was written in (somewhere between 2 to) 5 A.D., not actually that farfetched considering that only in 1 A.D. was the first version of the Bible we know today written. It was found somewhere in Ancient Egypt but was declared as fiction at some point in 180 A.D. by St. Iranaeus of Lyon. To understand the impact that The Book of Judas would have on the Bible (which, to put it simply, was revolutionary), you’d first have to have a quick review and understanding of who Judas Iscariot was in the gospels that we know today.

Judas was a disciple.

He was one of the 12 disciples that were closest to Jesus and a disciple that most accounts of the story would say actually truly deeply loved him at some point. Judas was, as all memes about Christianity are fond of reminding, also the traitor that eventually chose money and greed over his love for God’s son and turned him in with a kiss in a garden that led to Jesus Christ’s death at the cross.

That is until you read the translations of the Book of Judas.

In the original books--whether it was because he was possessed by the Devil or simply a man who had fallen into greed--Judas was portrayed to be a sinner and a horrible traitor. After his betrayal and Jesus’ eventual death, Judas had then become guilt-ridden and anguished, choosing to end his own life in the Gospel of Matthew and even tarnishing a field with his blood and sins according to St. Luke in Acts.

The Book of Judas, however, CHALLENGES these motives. Instead, it takes what brought all past Christian texts together by changing the portrayal of Judas on its head and putting the previous ‘traitor’ under the light of something else entirely.

According to the Book of Judas, Jesus had asked Judas to betray him.

The 26-page manuscript was a brief retelling of the dynamics we were lead to believe in the story told by the main four books. In the Book of Judas, we were told that the original other 12 disciples were actually quite... foolish. They were described to be sort of arrogant and clueless, constantly misinterpreting and forgetting Jesus’ words because while he was teaching them to be better and to spread the words of God, the disciples were still, at their core, human sinners. The manuscript was believed to have reported that of the disciples that were closest, or at least best tolerated by Jesus--Judas was by far the most understanding of His words.

Judas, in accordance with his book, was the only one who could understand the significance and cryptic lessons behind Jesus’ teachings. Because of this, Jesus knew he was the only capable one to serve him in what was to come.

You see, part of the prophecy was that Jesus had to die. He had to suffer and fall for humanity’s sake so that we would be able to be forgiven. As much as it sucks to even think about it, Jesus had come to expect that someone would need to cause his death and hurt him all so that he could fulfill his purpose.

In the end, he thought that death by the hand of an enemy was far worse than a death at the hands of a friend.

During the Last Supper, Jesus approached Judas and placed him into a vision. He placed Judas in a fantastical, wonderful dream where Judas sat facing the house of heaven and saw Jesus. Jesus, who looked at his beloved friend and said: “you will exceed all of them. For you will sacrifice the man that clothes me.” Judas will exceed all of them. And he will sacrifice the man that clothed Jesus.

In this interpretation, Judas was essentially told that he was the one who would finally free Jesus from his physical form. Judas, the supposed traitor disciple, would be the one to fulfill Jesus’ prophecy and thus sacrificed his beloved friend to bring about forgiveness for humanity.

And he understands.

In this manuscript, Judas Iscariot understands the will of God and what he has to do. He understands the weight of his betrayal and what he has to do in order to obey Jesus--so then it isn’t money or fear or anger or evil that motivates him to surrender Jesus to the soldiers but utter obedience and adoration for the Son of God. Judas gives his ‘yes’, knowing that for years and years he will be slandered and labeled as a traitor but at his core, Judas knows that it was not a betrayal to begin with.

So he led the soldiers to Jesus in the garden. He kissed him and let him be taken away and let him die.

This was the official translation approved by BBC and National Geographic according to the original translations done by Stephen Emmel, a Coptic studies professional.

Later on, this interpretation would be challenged by Dr. April DeConick, who claims that the mistreatment and mistranslation of the paper actually told the complete opposite, in the way that the revelation in the Last Supper was not created by Jesus but, in fact, by Judas, who had revealed himself to be the 13th demon of hell. This interpretation, while less popular, served as a direct challenge to the recharacterization BBC and NatGeo had approved of. I don’t really know too much about this debate, but I do know that this second interpretation does exist.

Of course, the original Judas text itself is currently impossible to truly translate to be sure. It was torn and shuffled, put into a freezer, and possibly even missing a few pages (which you can blame Bruce Ferinni for), ultimately making the authentic manuscript really difficult to properly restore.

The takeaway from this whole Book though--whether you accept it as canon or not--is that there were many interpretations and beliefs early Christians and Gnostics had that the time that criticized the way the four main gospels had passed down God’s teachings. People believed what they thought supported their own beliefs and at the end of the day. it's all still just a matter of who we choose to credit.

The real author to the Book of Judas remains anonymous to this day, but I am very glad to have been able to share this with you all :)

not proofread since i did this at like 4 am | x x x

#tw long post #long post tw #gospel of judas #christianity

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papirouge · 2 years

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What I’ve learned over the years is that just because someone calls themselves a Christian doesn’t make them one, unfortunately many have fooled themselves and are spreading hatred in God’s name but claiming to do it out of “love”. True Christianity isn’t a religion is simply following Christ and being more Christ like but many people and their egos have turned truth into their own thing. The world is watching them and going look at the “Christians” and I’m like….yeah that’s not it.

I almost dissociated reading this ask cause it could literally be me who wrote it🤯

I've been saying the same thing for sooo long, I'm so relieved I'm not the only one to feel this way!!😭💜

You're right; so many Christian's way of behaving does not come from a place of love but rather spitefulness and division. Paul already called out this spirit in Philippians 1:15-18

It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely, supposing that they can stir up trouble for me while I am in chains. But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. Yes, and I will continue to rejoice

So Paul is right in that they still "preach Christ" and might open the eyes of some people regardless, so we shouldn't seek to stop or shut them down, BUT he never stated we should support or defend them, or that we shouldn't call them for their toxicity or backhanded hypocrisy.

I feel like for these people, being Christian is the new punk. They found a way to embrace an identity to spite the mainstream/liberals thinking it substitutes for a personality, rather than truly embracing Jesus' way to make something positive out of it and be useful Servants for His will. You will NEVER hear these people speak about charity or self-sacrifice. Their whole vision of Christianism is nothing but self-centered and self beneficial.

Reminder: NOTHING in the Bible testified of Jesus being rude or acting superior to non-believers. He argued with his fellow (Jews), but showed nothing but kindness and mercy to Gentiles (reviving the centurion's slave, not judging the Samaritan woman for being adulterous/remarrying several times, etc.) so maybe we should take a few pages from His book (= the Bible LOL) before acting holier than thou with heathens. What's so infuriating is Christians who converted yesterday being so LOUD and boastful and judgmental against other non Christians, when they've yet to read the Bible from back to back lmao. They'll be like "LOOK IM CHRISTIAN!!// FEMINISTS ARE DUMB AND HATEFUL!! / I LOVE TOXIC MASCULINITY!!! 🤪// FAGGOTS WILL GO TO HELL LMAO // IM GONNA MARRY AND MAKE 10 BABIES IN THE COUNTRYSIDE AND YOU CANNOT STOP MEEE🤪🤪111!1!! ... sorry but popping 10 kids to own the libs isn't the own they think it is....🙄 again, what's the point of it, from an evangelical perspective?

I am SO THANKFUL God gave me enough discernment to NOT blog about my Christian beliefs until I finished reading the Bible entirely (so around a year after my conversion). Avoided me spilling outrageous heresies and blaspheming the Holy Spirit (without being aware of it) like so many of them do.

I firmly believe the way you got converted will highly influence how you behave/preach yo the world too. God Saved me through a former Muslim woman who was extremely kind and patient - we spoke a lot, and she took the time to answer to all my questions about the Bible, God and so many things...that's why I'm dedicated to display the same patience and compassionate love for those who have yet to be Saved. ......On the other hand, you have people who got radicalized "converted" on tumblr, from boastful pseudo Christians calling homosexuals "faggots" and calling for the murder of sinners on the regular ('hOw cOmpElLiNg nOw fAce tHe WalL"🤪)....It makes sense they turn out to be extremely toxic with little to no self awareness, capability to face contradiction normally without going ballistic, and no proper biblical knowledge (they'll twist the Bible to fit their political bias but you'll notice none their core belief truly changed after converting, which is the biggest sign of false conversion) and thinking being insufferable with unbelievers is evangelization...

#Christian #answered

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webcricket · 5 years

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Castiel Drabbles

Characters: CastielXDemon!Reader

Bat Out of Hell Lyric Prompt: #17 - “You’ve been nothing but an angel every day of your life, and now you wonder what it’s like to be damned.”

Word Count: 1362

Requested by: @ladyofletters67

Summary: The reader uses a bit of veracity and sass to vie for an angel’s affection.

<<< >>>

Over the years, trial after trauma after countless trial compounding into a constant uncontrolled free fall toward humanity’s cause, everything Castiel thought he knew for fact dissolved into mere fiction perpetrated by his Father in a plot seemingly created solely for the entertainment of that self-same Creator.

Everything, that is, except one universal tenet of reckoning arising over and over no matter the situation: Everything comes at a cost. Nothing in life is free, least of all that will he fought fist and wing and wit whilst falling to embrace.

Which accounts for his stubborn suspicion about your motives in helping the Winchesters - not coming to their aid on one or two occasions, but rising from the fires of Hell whenever they get stuck in a rut, and just as often availing your support even when they aren’t. After all, demons don’t take day trips out of the pell-mell of perdition to offer assistance unless they want something in return.

The what is what the seraph cannot figure out. What has him both dubious and intrigued in such a manner he can’t keep his thoughts, idle or otherwise, from wandering to you and the conflict of emotion - a push and pull dance between light and dark, divinity and doom, a cosmic waltz that leaves him dizzy - he feels every time he’s in your presence.

It’s what has him summoning you for interrogation to a generically furnished motel room off the I-90 with Sam and Dean well out of the way - generic save for the addition of a demon trap fastidiously spray painted in crimson on the carpet and for which Castiel’s, or rather, Jimmy Novak’s credit card will be docked for damages after he checks out and housekeeping discovers the disturbing decor.

You’ve dodged his queries before by disappearing - an action usually preceded by a flirtatious fluttering pink smirk and a suggestive wink. The trap guarantees you won’t get away without clearing up his confusion.

You manifest in an onyx-eyed akimbo-stance huff cursing the rudeness of your summoner when they could have simply picked up the phone and called because, ‘Hello! It’s not the dark ages.’

The dissatisfied murmur ceases, a smile spreading your lips to flash the pearly whites veiled beneath when you see the angel is the source of your involuntary vexation because this particular angel intrigues you as much, if not more, than you intrigue him.

Sure, when you first sauntered into the Winchester’s wheel house uninvited it was with the idea of indebting them to you in return for some future favor; but when you laid eyes on their ally, you got a glimpse of actual glory, and although your mortal soul be damned beyond saving, all else fled your thoughts save a taste for a different type of seraphim-assisted salvation.

If he doesn’t recognize your interest - nay, overt attraction - yet through that thickly righteous skull housing his celestial grey matter, all it means is that you need to keep knock-knock-knocking at Heaven’s door a little longer and, perhaps, a little louder.

“Angelcake, to what do I owe the pleasure?” You move a step and a half in his direction, stopping short at the outer line of the circle.

The seraph didn’t doubt the tried and true tactic would hold you, but still, his chest swells with a sense of satisfaction in seeing you at his mercy. Studying your face in anticipation of a frown emerging thereon, a surprising observation surfaces from his subconscious to tickle his rational fancy that the bedlam of twisted soul behind those inky irises, a creature unrecognizable as a human anymore, appears to him as a chaos of stormy hues not sinister in disorder, but as compelling as the shifting colors of a sunset so stunning one cannot look away from it.

The thought, twitching his upper lip, tests his stolid facade.

You peer up in time to catch the subtle crack in his stoicism. Defiant of how he thinks you’ll react, your smile widens, stretching up at one corner in sultry reach toward an equally grinning gaze. “If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.”

“What? I-” A squint dims the vibrant blaze of his blues; the lids flare after a second or two in sudden understanding of your debauched implication- “no, that’s not-”

“You really don’t know, do you? You angelic ass.” Smile and patience summarily fading, you interrupt a train of verbalized thought definitely not traveling to the destination you desire. If you stuck a Post-It note to your forehead that read, ‘Fuck me!’ in block letters you couldn’t be any more obvious; not that the feeling is strictly physical for you, that’s just the superficial iceberg of a much deeper emotion.

The hot white neon radiance of raggedly feathered wings stacked over his shoulders - clear as day to your demonic second sight - shudder in revolt of the accusation. “What are you talking about?”

Evidently he needs you to spell it out for him like a prophet writing on a wall; God’s team never did fair well without a playbook. But the problem here isn’t him knowing - that ruffling of feathers tells you on some level, he knows enough to rile him - it’s one of doubt. The problem with him is always freaking doubt. Doubt, like everything, exists in balance; the other side of fear is bravery.

You’ve witnessed first hand he isn’t lacking for courage in other areas, you just need to lube the cogs of the celestial machine enough to loosen them in your favor. “I see the way you look at me, Castiel. The way you don’t look away.”

The continued intensity of his stare and shiver of plumes scream out the truth skimmed by the statement; and yet, his tongue wields incongruous words. “I look because you’re an abomination and it’s my duty not to turn a blind eye.”

“Pshaw, duty,” you blow a puff of disenchanted air through pursed lips. Toeing the very edge of the sigil until your chest tightens in a crush of ribs, you steal a couple of extra millimeters of pain-stifled space in order to drive the point home as close to its heavenly host as possible. “An abomination according to who? You, Castiel?”

The query jars him into motion and the guilty realization you aren’t off base in asking about his assumption gravitates him nearer; demons are a species he thought he knew, but he thought he knew a lot of other things too and he was wrong. He lifts a palm to lightly press your arm to encourage you to retreat back within bounds and out of suffering, confessing in a penitence-laden lowness of tone, “No. No one.”

You swat at the kindness; wincing, arm breaching the barrier to follow his, your fingers wrap his wrist. Panting at the onslaught of pain, you yank him into the trap with you.

Instinct guides his hands to hook your waist, stabilizing you while you steady your breath.

Your body hums in gratitude for the gesture. Straightening yourself with the leverage of his lapels, peering up, you pierce his glossy blues with a blackly earnest gaze. “So then what do you really think I am? ‘Cause I think you’ve been nothing but an angel every day of your life, and now you wonder what it’s like to be damned.”

Although the interrogation didn’t go exactly to plan - things rarely ever do - your challenge to his foundation clarifies to him what it is you want, not from the Winchesters, but from him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, amid the lies programed as gospel on the day of his making, a once firmly held belief that all demons are abominations buries itself in the ruins of false reason. Reverberating in a swift smash of sweetly soft lips to yours, the truth of what he feels asserts itself in the knee-weakening, grace-revving, loin girding proof of a kiss.

Everything comes at a cost, and once in an epoch, payment is tendered in the love-bridled beating of an angel’s heart for his beautiful abomination.

Castiel tag list: (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!) @jeepangel @sammiesamness @willowing-love @roxy-davenport @blueicevalkyrie @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @thesugargalaxy @bluetina-blog @dont-trust-humanity @honeybeetrash @bucky-thorin-winchester @superwholockz @tistai @wordstothewisereaders @gill-ons @mrswhozeewhatsis @marisayouass @stone-met @castiel-savvy18 @samualmortgrim @trexrambling @magnificent-mantle @kdfrqqg @xdifsx @mandilion76 @rockfairy @peaceloveancolor @unicorntrooper @anisolatedship @itsilvermorny @aditimukul @kudosia @goofynerd-67babylove @uninspirationalsonglyrics @gray-avidan @mishascupcake @mishapanicmeow @praisecastielamen @roseyhxnt @jessikared97 @let-the-imaginationflow @warriorqueen1991 @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @hisnameisboobear @kristendanwayne @fuschiarulerinthebluebox @coolpencilpie @jenabean75 @luciathewinchestergirl @morganas-pendragons @heyitscam99 @fangirl-and-stuff @selahbela @realgreglestrade @splendidcas @pointlesscasey @i-larb-spooderman @thewhiterabbit42 @thelostverse @castieliswatchingoverme @beccollie18 @dragonett8 @dixie-chick @jtownraindancer @carowinsthings @passionghost @ladyofletters67 @futureparent @gabbie7-11 @myfandomlife-blog @dreamerkim @shamelesslydean @earthtokace @neaeri @justanormalangel @lone-loba @supernaturalymarvel @lilrubixx @wings-and-halo @thehoneybeecastielfollows @musiclovinchic93 @81mysteriouslyme @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jaylarkson @pixiedusts @spookysculderfiles @laqueus-ludovicus @missjenniferb @lexininja @jessiekay2010 @skrratata @rhiannonj79 @calicat79

#castielxreader #castielxyou #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x demon!reader #spn x reader #you x castiel #reader x castiel #cas x you #cas x reader #castiel fanfic #demon!reader fic #fic request #cricket writes cas

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joshuarickabogado-blog · 5 years

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Witness the Alangalang Hidden Secret

Alangalang, Leyte Philippines

As proud Alangalangon, let me showcase to you the hidden secret of my hometown, the place where i conceived, where i first see the beauty of the world, where i grown up and becomes who i am today. As an Alangalanganon, it makes me proud that we are known because of our classic delicacies that suit to the preferences of today's generation, the beautiful and instagrammable rivers and places to visit. Additionally, if you are fond of shopping we also has a mall to offer.

To know more about my beloved hometown, let us first know the history behind Alangalang, Leyte.

History of Alangalang, Leyte

Lingganay is term familiar with cebuano or hiligaynon speaking people. but in many places, this is called “Campana”.

This church bells, played an important role in our identity, this serves as the instrument in communicating with our Alangalanganon. during those times of moro raids, coastal settlements in different part of the country, rang their bells, prompting its settlers to flee for safety in the hinterland. when the Moro flee in Leyte, they raided various towns including Alangalang. Intentionally came here in our town when they heard about tale of an extraordinary golden bell that can resonate a sound so strong that will be heard miles away.

one time, Moro pirates caught the people guarded the golden bell and then when they notice it they fled hastily with the bell. as they were closing the Bagka river they saw the Moro pirates following them. So, rather than surrendering the treasured bell of our town, they decided to dropped it into the deepest part of the river.

after the Moro pirates had been driven away, the people tried to get back the bell. until now, people of Alangalang remains hopeful that someday, they will get it and back it lively sound.

Beautiful Spots to visit

The Most Holy Trinity Parish

If your searching for serenity and peace, which is good for meditation and prayer i suggest to visit our parish, the Most Holy Trinity Parish.

Our parish is located in Brgy. San Antonio Poblacion near town plaza. One thing that makes our church peculiar to others is that its structure is a cross- like shape. You will appreciate this at the top view of it. To be honest, i didn't notice this before until i notice it in our calendar that has a image of our church. This is a place were you can express your true self by voicing out all your problems as well as your achievements to Him.

Inside the church you will see six saints that has an important contribution in spreading the gospel of the Lord centered by the golden tabernacle.

In the upper corners of the church walls, you will see the 14 station of cross that signifies the suffering of Jesus up to its resurrection.

If you wants to light candles and offer a prayer to God, you can visit the adoration chapel found inside the church ground. From this moment, i remember the days that my friends are i light candles and have some prayers altogether. How i wish to be back in this memorable moment of my life.

Municipality of Alangalang, Leyte

Our municipal hall is located at Real Street Brgy. St. Nino. The structure at the center is quiet old, but the others were new. Inside the municipal , specifically in the area along Mayor's office you will see the different mayors of my town.

Outside the municipal hall, there's a monument of Dr. Jose Rizal erected which represents that Alangalangaon gives respect to our national hero and cherish all the sacrifices done by him.

Town Plaza

The plaza is located nearby the Most Holy Trinity Parish. This place has an especial part in every lives of Alangalanganon. It witness how people of Alangalang develop and grown up, even in times of ups and downs. That's why if you feel tired, dark and weary or even stress with your works in school or in workplaces try visit Alangalang town plaza and enjoy. There are many things you can enjoy like seesaws, money bar, slides and swings and experience childhood again. There are always people staying here with their friends and boyfriend/girlfriend especially high school students to chill out and enjoy after the stressful works in school. If you feel hungry, don’t worry about it because their's a lot of street foods procurable within the plaza like kwek kwek, isaw, buko juice, fishball, lomi, barbeque and balot.

Briss River

This river is located at Brgy. Hubang Alangalang, Leyte. There are always visitors coming here every vacation like the last summer, there are a lot of visitant came here just to visit the cold fresh greenly water and its pure sand. Other says that this is a Boracay version of our locality. I am proud to say that this is located where i am currently living, actually i grown up here. We, my childhood friends, my cousins and i always swim here when we were a child but sadly now that we are young adult already, we just go there to wash clothes. But, i am happy that there are always people visiting our very own briss river. Now, that semestral break is approaching i'm so excited to swim here.

Delicacies of Alangalang, Leyte

Filipino loves eating. We likes to eat a variety of food. It became part of our lives. Indeed, our day will not be completed without these exquisite Filipino food. But, sometimes food becomes boring as we prevalently consume it. Thus, sometimes we should try something that's not we usually eat. Let's try to have a taste of various foods meticulously prepared by our locals of each provinces that are all comfy in taste.

Do you feel the boredom of the foods present in your locality? Do feel discontented with things offered to you by your place? Wanna try a new place where you can cultivate freshly experience you haven't gone through before? Why not try Alangalang, Leyte and be a CPA?

If you were in Leyte specifically in eastern part or anywhere in the country, try to visit Alangalang, Leyte. My very own town, Alangalang, Leyte have a lot to offer. Alanglang boasts their own kakanin that symbolizes the richness and and closeness of my beloved town- Alanglang, Leyte.

Whether you're craving for something with coconut milk or with rice flour, coconut meat, bananas or even root crops, Alangalang has it all for you. Listed below are the most popular native delicacies of my town you should crave for, make sure to have a bite of these before you leave Alangalang, Leyte.

Puto

This is a round cupcakes like kakanin made from rice flour mixed with coconut milk and sugar. They are steamed for almost an hour and topped with sliced cheese. This kakanin is usually sells during market day also known as "tabo". This is usually packed containing 6 pieces for only Php 5. Actually, why i like this delicacy is not just its affordable price but the taste itself. You can savor the aromatic fragrance of a vanilla syrup and the "anis" which gives additional flavor of this kakanin. During tabo day I also asked my mom to buy this whenever she is going to the market. Another thing you shouldn't miss about this is that puto is best paired with the classic Dinuguan. If you want try this classic puto. You can visit Alangalang Public Market, specifically during Tuesday and Friday (Tabo Day).

Kutsinta

It is similarly with puto, the differences only is its texture and color. Kutsinta is a brown cupcake like kakanin that can be seen also alongside with the puto vendor but usually they are present in the same stall. This kakanin are made from flour, sugar, annatto powder and lye water. It's best to eat with grated coconut that gives additional flavor of milkiness to the kakanin. Same with puto it is sold 6 pieces for Php 5 as well. Before, way back 2018, their is someone who sell this kakanin in our barangay through his pedicab. What i like to his kakanin is you can buy it by means of rice, 1 canned of rice ( salmon in our dialect) is equivalent to 10 pieces of kutsinta. Sadly, i didn't see him anymore, maybe he have another route to sell his gelatin-like kutsinta. But, if i saw him again i will surely by a lot.

Biko

Biko is basically rice cakes topped with latik. Latik is a crunchy and sweet stuff made from caramelized coconut milk and sugar. This kakanin is rarely seen in the market because it is usually not for sale. Biko is quiet big on birthday, fiesta, christmas and even new year as they are served as dessert. This kakanin is usually seen after harvesting period of rice. A slice of biko would surely go well with a cup of coffee or perhaps tea. Its great to eat at any time of the day. However, too much eating of this delicacies may lead to inappetence. That's why if you want to eat biko make sure that you can consummate all you have served. In addition, this month of October is a period of harvesting rice. Thus, we are fortunate because we can have a taste this seasonal kakanin. Be sure that you will try this before the stock last.

Turon

Turon is delicacy made from ripe banana called "saba" dipped in caramelized sugar and rolled in a spring roll wrapper then fried. Saba banana is in medium size yet chubbier compare with other bananas This snack taste sweet, crunchy and satisfying. I know guys that we're all familiar with this because we typically made it at home because we have a lot of bananas here in Alangalang, Leyte. This kakanin is mostly patronized by students. I can proved it because im one of them. During my senior high school days, after our classes my friends and i usually go to the stalls behind Jollibee selling turon, banana cue, and kamote cue to buy some. Also, before we go to Church to pray we often passed by to that stalls because this where found near the church. Why is that this snack is being loved by students, simply because its very affordable, you can taste this as low as Php 5 only. I am not shock if students opt to buy this. Eating this is best when you were with your friends.

Sarongsong

If you were not contented with the puto and biko. If you were craving for more rice-made delicacies, Alangalang has one more to offer. What is it? It' s sarongsong. This delicacy is similarly with puto, both were made of powdered- milled glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk and brown sugar over a steamer. Unlike puto, sarongsong uses banana leaf shaped into a cone. Consequently, the banana leaf gives an additional aroma to the kakanin. In my family tradition, we usually make this in a special celebration like Christmas and new year. Also, when someone of our relatives is going to Manila. Thus, i am so excited for Christmas and taste my Lola's special sarongsong.

And now you already know the hidden secret of my beloved hometown, what are you waiting for visit Alangalang, Leyte with your friends or even with your girlfriend/ boyfriend and have a momentous time with one another.

#Certified Proud Alangalanganon

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valodia · 6 years

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Emergency tarot/oracle reading commissions!

Hi, I’m Vladimir, I’m non denominational witch focused on divination! My wife Alice is in a lot of financial trouble due to her abusive family and medical bills pilling up (read about it here) so I’m offering tarot/oracle reading commissions to help her out. All proceeds will go towards her so she can pay the debt off and feed herself and other basic needs.

If you’re interested in a reading, here’s how to apply:

Simply send your payment to [email protected] (her own paypal address), include in the personal message that you’d like a reading and include your tumblr username.

Then IM me so that we can discuss specifics and so I can begin working on your reading. If you forgot to include wanting a reading when you sent the payment, just IM me with your paypal address and we’ll work it out no worries!

I don’t limit myself to specific spreads, I like using a custom personal spread that helps with your situation (but if you want a spread in particular that is also fine with me).

If you have a preference, I can offer readings with these wonderful decks:

Doors deck (tarot) ; Shadowscapes deck (tarot) ; Favole deck (tarot) ; Gospel of Aradia deck (oracle). If you aren’t sure I’ll simply choose based on your question.

Prices

1 cards reading 5$

2 cards reading 9$

3 cards reading 12$

from there, + 2$ per additional card.

If you have several questions you’d like a reading for feel free to IM me so that we may find a suitable price for you. Feel free to negotiate if you’re interested but are tight on money!!!

If you’re not sure what the price is gonna be for your reading just IM me to talk about it!!!

If you aren’t interested but still want to help out please reblog this post and consider donating: [email protected]

Thank you so much!!!

#tarot #oracle #tarot reading #reading commissions #tarot commissions #signal boost #lodia sayings

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casanova-lives · 6 years

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Hi!! Do you have any book recommendations for someone new to marxism and want to become more educated in general. I apologize if you have links if your page i am on mobil and cant find any. I really lovd your blog and you are so well educated and you argue and explain your point so well. Lol anyway just wanted to say you are rly cool and thx for just being you. Hope you have a good day!

Im“I don’t have links on my page, I was meaning to make one.

There’s a million and one ways to go about it. I am going to try to start with a more ~neutral~ take and at the end add the books that are more pertinent to my politics.Start off with “Principles of Communism,” by Engels. It’s a short pamphlet in Q&A style that answers basic questions.

Move to The Communist Manifesto afterwards. Read it less as a guide, but more as a historical text. Much of it is applicable to today, some it is not

If you are brave enough to tackle Marx head on, then “Critique of the Gotha Program,” “Wage Labour and Capital,” “A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy,” and “The German Ideology,” are all good reads, but a bit difficult. “Capital” is the monster we should all try to take on at some point, but it’s ok if you can’t.

Don’t forget about Engels! “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific,” and “The Origin of Family, Private Property, and the State” are all good.

You don’t have to read all of these in order, or at once. Be sure to take breaks and read more lighthearted stuff as well.

Anyways, moving on. I usually like to say “read the bread book” (Conquest of Bread, by Petr Kropotkin) here because it’s important to have an understanding of anarchist politics as it is useful in order to critique some of the ways we may do things. as @commupissed said, “anarchism is a good political philosophy!!!! and even if you’re not an anarchist, using an anarchist lens to analyze your own politics is very useful for identifying unnecessary hierarchies and systems of violence”

Rosa Luxemburg’s “Reform or Revolution” is imperative for understanding Why we choose revolution.

Now, Lenin:

“State and Revolution,” “What is to be Done?,” and “Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism“ are foundational.

From here, you can take a variety of paths, and I don’t want to unknowingly constrict you too much.

However, I recommend “On Practice and Contradiction,” by Mao. It’s easily digestible and a good read to drive in all the points of the previous texts.

Also, “Settlers,” by J. Sakai. While it is considered “The Third-Worldist Bible” it is still a very important text to understand how the US came to be such a dominant power, how it selectively forgets and remembers parts of its own history to make it seem good, and criticizing the old socialist groups, especially labour unions, of the US is very important to understanding why radical political organizations failed to fully organize the non-white working class. While I do not agree with some of its conclusions, it is still important to read it critically.Now for some of my personal likes:“Another View of Stalin,” by Ludo Martens. I have not finished it, but from what I gathered, it attempts to oppose many of the accusations leveled against him and the Soviet Union in general. Grover Furr is a similar author, and he also deserves a critical reading. While you shouldn’t take everything they say as gospel, it does show that much of what’s said and what’s taught are simply untrue and come from bourgeois sources, which have an incentive to spread untruths or take things out of context.

“Battle for China’s Past,” by Moba Gao, and “The Unknown Cultural Revolution,” by Dongping Han. Both lived through what is called “The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution” so they offer personal insights.

“Road to Power,” by IV Stalin. I haven’t read it yet, but I had people recommend it to me. Thought I should add it here.

Finally, The Marxist-Leninist-Maoist Basic Course ( http://library.redspark.nu/Marxism-Leninism-Maoism_Basic_Course ): I like it because it’s an easily accessible breakdown of current Marxist theory and beliefs. Even if you don’t come from Leninism, it explains their ideas in a very easy to understand manner.Oh, one more short article called “Deep Green Maoism.” ( https://revolutionaryecology.wordpress.com/2014/01/17/deep-green-maoism/ ). While the article has faults, it is the beginning of thoughts on the contradiction between human society and nature, and I think there is a lot of potential there. It’s what got me to start calling myself a “Green Marxist.” Ecology has to be very close to the front of any political program.

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michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 6 years

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Bad Brains

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Chapter 5: Authority-Shmority

(AO3) (FF.net)

November 30th, 1987

If there was one thing that El learned while growing up in the city, it was always question authority.

Back in the group home, El had befriended a wild child named Kali. They became bunk mates, partners in crime, and sisters. Kali was a bit older, and she took El under her wing. She was assertive, and demanded attention simply by entering a room. El would never forget the way she walked straight up to her on her first day while she cried alone on her bunk.

‘Don't waste your time crying over people who don’t deserve it. You are better than them, and that's why you’re here.’

From that moment on they were inseparable. Kali gave her the nickname El, but they soon called each other by their first names (and were the only foster kids to do so) because they knew that they would be in each others lives forever. She showed all of the best places in the city, she taught her how to steal candy without getting caught, all about the patriarchy, and the punk rock gospel.

When Kali got a bit older, she found a group of like minded people living on the streets and she convinced El to to run away and join them. For awhile it seemed like a good decision. They drove around in a cozy van, they slept in an abandoned warehouse, and protected each other. In a lot of ways, it was the most exciting time in Els life. They would vandalise buildings and train cars, they stole from war criminal oil tycoons to give back to the poor, they went to shows and spread their message everywhere they could. There was a political revolution happening on the streets, and El had a front row seat.

That was until her new found gang decided to take it too far.

Kali wanted revenge on the people responsible for the abuse she had been through, the abuse that they had all been through. While her anger was fully justified, it just felt wrong. It started with robbery, then moved to forgery, then arson, and before long even that wasn't enough to satisfy Kali’s rage. She wanted them dead.

It was when they broke into one man's home, that El finally decided enough was enough. She watched the way he struggled and begged for his life while he stared down the barrel of Kali’s gun. She saw the terror in the eyes of his daughters in the next room, and she saw the lust for blood in Kali’s. So she bailed. She caught a late night bus back to the warehouse they hid out in, and waited for them to come home. She knew they would be pissed, but at least her conscious would be clear knowing she wasn't around to watch Kali pull the trigger.

But they never came back.

She spent the night alone. Then another, and another, until the days turned into weeks. She was out of food and nearly frozen to death by the time the cops raided the building. That's when Hopper found her, and that's when her new life started.

After that, is was a blur of hospital stays, legal documents, court rooms, and then packing up what little things she had and moving in with Hopper. He let her buy new clothes, and bought her her very own walkman, and when they moved to Hawkins she got to have her own room for the first time in her entire life. Her counselor had said it was a miracle that she was adjusting so well, and that most kids in her situation would be either junkies, psychopaths, or both.

But El was a fighter. She was strong, and she refused to let her past dictate her future. She resented Kali for leaving her, but she understood why. She was a traitor, and hardly any better than the criminals that Kali fought. But she would never forget the lessons Kali taught her, about sticking up for the little guy, fighting injustice, and defending your beliefs at all times. For El it wasn't just about being angry, or loud music, or ripped clothes, it was a mindset based on making change for the better no matter what the cost.

Even now in Hawkins, El’s aggressive political attitude didn't change. Hawkins was painfully behind the times socially, and she wasn't about to let it slide. She rarely spoke up in class unless it was to tell off some sexist asshole in English, or argue the merits of women in history, or join in a heated political debate in social studies.

Or, as was the case today, telling her Gym teacher that is was, in fact, ‘total bullshit’ to make the girls scrub down the gym equipment in the musty old storage closet, while the boys got to run the track outside on one of the few nice days they had had in weeks.

“You should be grateful, girly.” Sneered a very smug Mr. Meloney, a heavy set man with beady little eyes and permanent bad breath. “You get the easy end of the deal. Someone's gotta clean the equipment, and don't curse at me.”

“But that is bullshit! I don't care about getting the ‘easy’ way out! It’s not fair, or right! Why don't we all clean, and then we can all go outside after?” She hissed, raising her voice. Most of the boys in class groaned, it was just another one of the freak girls stupid rants, but several of the girls hollered their approval.

“I said not to curse at me! If I hear one more thing out of you it's going to be detention. Now why don't you go sit on the bleachers and fix your makeup, looks like you have a god damn black eye.” He pointed a finger at her and several of the boys laughed.

She felt her blood start to boil, he had gone to far. She took a tentative step towards him and balled her fists. “I should give you a black eye.” She hissed through her teeth, her rage welling up into her throat. She reeled back and spit at him. “Fucking pig.”

Several of the girls behind her cheered. Mr. Maloney was a known creep. He made all of the girls feel uncomfortable and often treated them like garbage, clearly just because of their gender and his own sick issues. It was honestly a relief that someone like El started standing up to him.

“That is it Hopper!” He grabbed Els wrist and drug her out into the hallway, she squirmed but his grip was tight and it felt like it was going to leave a gnarly bruise. “Get your ass to the principal's office before I kick it there.”

She finally managed to jerk herself free and stomped to the front office of the school. She was going to be in deep shit when she got home but she couldn't help it. It was the right thing to do, and she wasn't about to let that perv slide.

She spent the rest of the period in the principal's office silently fuming as she was written up for detention, and Hopper was called.

At least her friends were supportive.

“You should have kicked him in the crotch.” Dustin said with his mouth full of sandwich.

“Yeah! Or actually punched him that would have been great!” Lucas agreed laughing.

“He's lucky I didn't. I wanted to, but that probably would have gotten me expelled.” El sighed.

“God he is such a creep.” Max shuddered. “He totally checks out all of the girls when they jog. It's disgusting.”

“He does!?” Mike and Will gasped in unison. El and Max both nodded with a grimace.

“That's what happens when you have a position of authority.” El shrugged. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even stupid gym teachers.” She stabbed at her poor excuse for a salad, not really feeling hungry.

“What does that mean?” Dustin asked dumbfoundedly.

“It's a famous quote from British politician, Lord Acton.” Max answered nonchalantly. The boys turned to her sharply as if she had just spoken another language. “What? El talks about this stuff a lot. I thought you guys were supposed to be the smart ones.”

“It means that when you have authority you are likely to abuse it because no one can stop you. It's why most politicians are liars, and most teachers are assholes.” El added.

They all nodded and mumbled in agreement. It was kind of funny, watching El slowly open their eyes to the underground political agenda.

But her cop father was another story.

She knew the entire walk home that she was going to get an earful when Jim got off work. Until then, she was going to listen to music as loud as her speakers would allow and let off some steam from her shitty day.

She was sitting on the couch reading a magazine when he got home. Her stereo was blasting The Runaways, so she didn't hear him pull up, or walk inside, or stomp into the living room until he was looming above her. She jolted upright when he stomped to her stereo and shut it off without a word.

“Hey!” She yelled.

“Don't hey me! I have told you a thousand times not to listen to that crap that loud.” He was furious.

“God chill! I'm sorry, okay?” His tone, and her bad day put her in an argumentative mood.

“Chill? I get a call at work that you get detention and you want me to chill?”

“It wasn't my fault!”

“Oh it wasn't your fault huh? You call your teacher a ‘fucking pig’ and it wasn't your fault?” He was still towering above her.

“No! Because he was being a pig! He is a total perv and a dirtbag and I wasn't going to take any of his crap anymore!” She stood up, still much to short to be at his eye level, but staring daggers at him.

“Look, kid, you are in the real world now. And in the real world you can't just go around cursing and spitting at people like some kind of little street brat!”

“The real world!? As if I have been living some charmed fantasy life up until this point!? Give me a break!” She felt angry tears brimming in her eyes.

“That girl you used to pal around with filled your head with a lot of garbage ideas! You need to grow up!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Grow the hell up!”

“Get the fuck off of me!” She ripped out of his grasp and stomped up to her room, but he was close on her heels. She turned to slam her door but he stuck his arm in just in time to catch it.

“Don't walk away from me when I am talking to you! This is exactly what im talking about. You like to play pretend that you are this angry punk but you just run away from your problems! You are never going to get anywhere in this world if you dont drop the act and own up to your mistakes.” His words cut deep into her like a knife. He was right, all she ever did was run away.

Run away from her abusive father, run away from the foster home, run away from Kali, and run away to Hawkins. She wasn't tough at all, no matter how much makeup she hid under, no matter how thick her leather jacket was, or how strong her ideals were. Inside she was still just a scared little girl. So while he yelled at her, for the first time, she just stayed quiet and listened. Hot tears streamed down her face as she took his beratement.

“You are grounded for two weeks. That means no TV, no stereo-” He turned and ripped her boombox from the wall. “And no going out with your friends. You are going to go to school, and come home and study and get over this bullshit. Do I make myself clear?” He got in her face again and she turned to avoid his glare.

“I said, do I make myself clear!?” He yelled. She turned to face him, long streaks of black mascara running down her face.

“Yes.” Her voice was like ice.

He said nothing as he turned around and slammed her door closed behind him, her stereo in hand. She flopped back on her bed and pulled a pillow over her face so she could scream into it. She wanted to badly to go downstairs and yell at him some more, she had so much more to say, but she knew none of it would change anything.

So instead she just stared up at the ceiling for hours. Thinking over all of the things she hasn't let herself think about in a long time.

‘Where is Kali? I hope she is okay. Im sure she must hate me, but I would give anything to see her right now. No one understood me the way she did.

All I ever do is run away. Run away so no one can leave me first. So no one realizes that I am worthless. Worthless and unlovable.’

It started getting dark, and as the sun set it became clear that Hopper wasn't going to be making dinner. She didn't want to see him anyway. She felt like she was going crazy. She jumped off her bed and stormed back and forth, the anxiety in her gut rising and pulsing, not letting her sit down. Usually she could just tune her feelings out with music, or a movie, or a long walk through town.

‘That's it!’

She threw on a warm grey sweater and strapped on her favorite boots. She flipped the light in her room off so that he would think she was sleeping and she locked the door on her way out. She silently opened her window and perched herself on its edge, feeling the cool air wrap around her. Lucky for her there was a small potting shed just under window that she could use to jump onto, and from there it was only a slight drop to the ground. She set of in the direction of Max’s house, wishing more than anything she had taken up her offer to learn how to skate. It wasn't too bad of a walk, but it was cold and dark.

‘At least I don't have to worry about getting stabbed out here in the sticks.’ She chuckled to herself, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pressing forward.

It was a little after 10:00pm when she arrived at the Mayfield house. She could hear the usual sounds of Billy, Max's brother, and her step dad arguing inside, but luck for her, Max’s bedroom light was on. She grabbed a handful of pebbles and tossed them up at the girls window.

A few second later Max was sticking her head out into the night air and looked around he darkness.

“Lucas?” Max asked in a harsh whisper. El burst out laughing and stepped into the light.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” El chortled. “Does he come throw rocks at your window often?”

“Ugh, no shut up!” Max rolled her eyes, blushing furiously. “Why are you here?”

“Hopper grounded me, so naturally I snuck out. Lets go to the park or something.” El kicked the grass and smirked.

“Oh shit dude that sucks.” Max shook her head. “Okay yeah let me get my jacket.” her head disappeared from the window, and a few moments later she was back, tossing her skateboard out and jumping down from her window.

They walked to the nearby park, well, if you could call it a park. It was really just a few swings, a small set of rusty monkey bars, and a big dusty baseball diamond, but it was all they had available. Max and El jumped up on the swings, Max kicked off with great force, sending her soaring through the cool air. El just sat, kicking at the dirt and lighting up a cigarette.

“Max, why does everything suck so much?” El griped, exhaling softly into the air.

“No clue. It’s like a global conspiracy.” Max chuckled, her voice raising and lowering in volume as she zoomed back and forth.

“If by global conspiracy you mean thousands of years of patriarchy then yeah, pretty much.” El leaned against the cold metal chain of her swing and took another long drag.

“Hey, I think I have an idea.” Max said digging her feet into the dirt bellow and kicking up bark chips and dust, skidding to a stop.

“What's that?” El said exhaling another long breath of smoke.

“I'll bet the boys have never snuck out before.” Her face was turned up in the signature ‘Madmax’ devilish grin.

“So?”

“So let's get them to sneak out with us!”

“I doubt they will be down for that.” El sighed, stifling the end of her cigarette against the chain.

“Please. Lucas and Dustin will do anything to prove they aren't dorks. Plus Will is kind of always up for anything, and I know seeing Mike would make you feel better!” Max swung sideways bumping into El. A faint smile flashed across Els face, and before she had time to think of a rebuttal Max was pulling her by the hand in the direction of the Sinclair house.

All it took was one well thrown pebble, and Max waving to get Lucas to climb down off of his roof and join the girls. He seemed practically giddy (and like this wasn't his first time scaling his roof to get down). He had his Supercom and he used it to call Mike and Dustin. Dustin called Will and within the span of less than half an hour, all six teenagers were congregated back at the park.

Max and Lucas decided to race each other to the top of the monkey bars. A challenge that Max quickly won with little effort. Her and Lucas got lost in conversation from their perch, giggling and whispers about who knows what as the rest of the party milled around the field.

Will and Dustin were deep in a debate about some X-men character, and running around the field reenacting scenes like proper geeks.

Mike and El made their way to the swings and seeing him really did make her feel better. Being around her friends always made her feel better because they were the first friends she had that didn't make her feel like she had to prove something just to be close with them. If anything it seemed the opposite. It was always the boys trying to show off and prove they weren't just small town nerds, and it was kind of endearing.

“Hey El?” Will asked from across the dirt playground. “Who do you think is more likely to be a secret superhero? Henry Rollins or Glen Danzig?”

El snorted, surprised by the question. She admittedly didn't know a lot about superheros, but she did know that the lead singers of Black Flag and The Misfits respectively were some of the toughest guys in the music scene.

“Definitely Danzig. He probably has like demon superpowers. Did you know he is only 5’ 3”?”

“Holy crap really? That shorter than I am!” Will belly laughed.

“And just like you he is tiny but powerful.” El giggled

Dustin and Mike watched them like they were speaking in tongues, but it was nice having someone to talk to about stuff like this. She never would have guessed she would find someone with decent music taste in farm country. Thank god for Will Byers.

After the riveting talk wore down, it became apparent that Will really was out of his comfort zone. So much for being ‘up for anything’. As it got later, despite his clear discomfort, Will was pretending not to be freaked out by every noise, and car that drove past. And why he was asking for the hundredth time if they were ‘ sure everything was going to be fine’.

“God yes Will! We aren't going to get in trouble!” Dustin sighed rubbing his brow. While everyone else seemed to be enjoying the thrill of being out after dark, the Byers boy was a nervous wreck.

“You can't know that! I'm just going to bike home before my mom or Jonathan knows i'm gone.” Will zipped up his coat and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder.

“You shouldn't go home by yourself this time of night.” Max hollered from her place on top of the monkey bars. “There are weirdos out this late.” She snickered, throwing Will an unnerving expression.

“Really?” Will asked, gripping his bike handles and looking terrified.

“No not really, Max is just trying to scare you.” Mike rolled his eyes, throwing the giggling girl an accusing glare. “But it's probably more safe if I go with you.” He reluctantly moved to stand up, but before he could, Dustin beat him to it.

“I'll go home with you. I live closer.” He sighed, mounting his own Bike. He and Will clicked the small duct taped head lanterns on. “And besides, I don't want to be the fifth wheel.”

“Um well, bye guys!” Will smiled, clearly relieved to be getting home.

“See you later, little Danzig.” El chuckled.

Everyone watched in silence was the two boys peddled off, trying not to think about the implications of Dustin's ‘fifth wheel’ comment.

“Well alright!” Max hollered, jumping off of the monkey bars in a swift leap. “I want to walk around the track.”

“I'll come with you!” Lucas said, a huge grin spreading across his face as he climbed down. His descent was just as graceful as hers, and in seconds he was jogging to keep up with Max as she sauntered towards the distant baseball diamond.

El and Mike watched them leave, and became aware of the silence hanging in the air.

“I guess they are probably going to like... Makeout or whatever.” Mike chuckled nervously.

El giggled and nodded. “Yeah probably. You know earlier, when I knocked on her window, she thought I was Lucas. I think they do this a lot.”

“Jeez.” Mike rubbed his neck. “I guess that makes sense, I always thought Lucas would be the first one of us to...” He cut his sentence short, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment.

“To what?” El asked curiously.

“To... you know...” He kicked at the dirt. “Like kiss a girl.”

El turned to him sharply, eyes wide with surprise. “Wait... none of you have ever kissed anyone?” She gaped.

Mikes face turned a deep scarlet and he cleared his throat nervously. “No not really. Dustin said that he kissed some girl at summer camp last year but I think he is full of shit. It's not like girls are really into the whole dork thing.” He gestured to himself, forcing an awkward smile.

El was genuinely shocked. Granted, she had never kissed anyone either, but that was mostly by choice. She looked at him and searched for the right thing to say, but she just found it so inconceivable.

‘How could anyone not want to kiss Mike? Dork or not.’

“Well it's not like a big deal or anything, to not be kissed.” She cringed at her own words. “It's probably not even that great.”

“Yeah. Probably not.” They both chuckled dryly in the tension of the situation. Then what she said dawned on him. “Wait, you have never kissed anyone either?”

“Nope. No one has ever been cool enough to deserve it.” El giggled. It wasn't the entire truth, a big part of her never having dated anyone lay in the fact that she was terrified of opening up to someone else, but everyone being lame was a large factor as well.

Mike chuckled with her, and looked up to catch Els glaze, she was wearing a similar blush to his own and he felt the sudden urge to move closer to her.

El shifted on the swing seat, feeling compelled to move in closer as well. The pale moonlight beamed across Mikes dark eyes and freckles, making him look incredibly beautiful. She felt her heart catch in her throat as they moved even closer.

They were close enough now that Mike could feel the heat coming off of her body. Her hair was firmly slicked back to way it usually was, but her walk had shaken several of her curls loose and they twisted around her cheeks and ears. That, combined with the oversized grey sweater she was wearing made her look so soft and warm.

They were only inches apart now. They both hitched their breath, suddenly hyper aware of everything that was happening. Every sound, every breath, the whistle of the wind, the blue moon light, every slight movement towards the other. El’s eyes fluttered closed, as Mike tilted his head in towards her. She could feel his shaky breathe on her lips, and she realized he was just as nervous as her.

‘I can't believe it! I'm about to have my first Kiss! And with Mike Wheeler!’

But then something ripped through the silence.

Just as they were about to close the small space between them, Max and Lucas’s laughter filled the night, and they both jumped apart. The chains on their swings groaning from the movement. Lucas and Max came running from the far side of the field, Lucas trailing behind and both teens squealing. It didn't seem like they had seen anything, they were far too preoccupied in whatever nauseating form of couples tag they were playing.

Mike jumped up from the swing and smoothed out his shirt nervously. He was still sporting a deep red blush and a slightly goofy smile. El was sure she didn't look any better. Her stomach felt warm and like it was twisting itself into knots, she couldn't look him in the eyes.

“Lucas Im going to kick your ass!” Max laughed as Lucas, finally catching up to her, picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Max slapped at his back but she was laughing too hard to actually be much of a fight.

He set her down once they reached the park again and she punched him hard in the arm. The couple walked over the the swings, both of their faces plastered with huge grins.

“Okay kids, I think it's time to go home.” Max said, slapping an arm down on Els shoulder. El sighed, her nerves still racing from her almost-kiss. Max was probably right, it was getting late and they did have school tomorrow morning.

The boys grabbed their bikes and everyone walked out to the road. While they did not live anywhere near each other, Max and Lucas both started walking off in the direction of Max's house.

“Um Lucas? Aren't you going home?” Mike scoffed at his friend.

“Uh... yeah I am I just want to make sure Max gets home safe.” Lucas and Max ginned bashfully at each other. “Because of the weirdos and stuff.”

The couple turned around and walked off again, trailing down Old Cherry Road and into the darkness of the night. Even when El couldn't see them, she could hear Max’s boisterous laugh.

“They are such dweebs.” El chuckled.

“Yeah totally.” Mike sneered. They stood in silence for a moment, not wanting to part just yet. “I could... walk you home if you want.”

El beamed up at the shaggy dark haired boy and nodded. “That would be cool.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, quickly adding with sarcasm; “So that the weirdos don't get me.”

They walked slowly down the hill towards the quiet side of town that El lived on. Mike pushed his bike next to him, hands gripped the handle bars. They both stole glances at each other, each time making them quickly look down at their feet. They walked almost the entire way in silence, both too completely lost in thought. El was still dazed that she had been so close to kissing someone, and she hoped he was thinking the same things. Every time she looked over at him her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She wanted to kick herself for being so gushy over him but she just couldn't help it, he was the sweet nerdy boy of her dreams.

In only 20 minutes, an unfortunately short walk, they reached Els home. The lights were off inside, meaning Hopper had gone to bed. Mike didn't know what he had been expecting, but this cozy little farmhouse on the end of the quaint road wasn't it. El was just too surreal to live somewhere so... normal. They stood under the streetlamp for a moment, Mike marveling at the way she looked while bathed in yellow light, and El not wanting to walk away from him just yet. It was a strange feeling, like some kind of gravitational pull keeping her glued to her spot whenever he was near.

Eventually she figured she should say something. “Well this is me.”

‘I am such an idiot! He knows this is my house he just walked me here!’

“It's nice.” Mike said, hoping to drag the conversation out as long as possible.

“I guess i'll see you at school tomorrow?” She asked, looking at the ground.

“Yeah!” He said a little to enthusiastically. “Um... thanks for asking us to sneak out. I had a lot of fun.”

“I had fun too. Maybe you should start sneaking out more often, live on the wild side a little bit.” She said sarcastically. “Maybe you could even come throw pebbles at my window.”

Mikes eyes went wide and he suppressed the urge to smile like a dope. “Uh yeah! And maybe we can run around acting like dweebs like Max and Lucas.”

El giggled, trying to act apathetic, but desperately wishing he was serious. “Totally! And maybe next time i'll get to walk you home.”

“I would like that.” Mike smiled.

Suddenly it became apparent that they were standing just inches apart again. El felt her heart beating in her chest, and in an impulse she took another step forward, so close that they were practically embracing.

Mike looked down at her, and his voice caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her. How much fun she was to spend time with, how happy she made him, how he felt like he was alive whenever they hung out. But he just stared at her. Her beauty, her warm hazel eyes, her loose caramel curls, her soft rosy skin. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Even more than that, she was the most amazing girl he had ever met.

On impulse, acting against every instinct he normally would have had, he reached out and put a gentle hand on her cheek, cupping her face. Their sudden proximity made him feel almost dizzy, but everything about her made him feel dizzy. He let his bike drop to the road, and he placed his other palm lightly on her side.

El was stunned. She wanted him so badly to kiss her, but he didnt move. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and inched even closer. It felt like an eternity as they held each other, and she realized that if anyone was going to make the move it was going to be her.

So she moved ever closer, and just as she was about to go in for the kill, he spoke.

“El?” His voice was a whisper, his breathe warm on her skin.

“Yes?” She leaned in closer.

“I... never gave you back your mixed tape.” He said it like some kind of admission of guilt.

El let out a sudden, short laugh in surprise and stepped back a bit. Her face quirked up in a half grimace, half astonished glower. “Oh... Um, It's fine. Thank you for remembering... I guess.”

“Uh yeah... sorry I kept it so long.” He fished it out of his pocket. “It was pretty good by the way. I mean I only got to listen to it once before my little sister stole my tape player.” He rubbed the back of his neck and cough awkwardly.

“I'm glad you liked it. I'll have to make you another one sometime.” El let herself frown fully. Had she misread the entire interaction? Was he really only concerned with her mixed tape? She wanted to punch herself for getting so flustered, and worked up and... hopeful.

“Well... um... Have a good night.” Mike mumbeled, scuffing his shoes along the ground.

El creased her eyebrows at him. Maybe she had gotten a bit carried away, and maybe she had gotten ahead of the situation, but she was damn sure that they almost kissed. Twice! She wasn't going to let him get away so easily.

She turned to face him straight up and down, and looked at him intently. “Mike. I like you.” He looked up at her with wide eyes, as if he had seen a ghost. “I mean it. I think you are nice, and sweet, and you care about people, which is super foreign to me. You make me laugh and you make me happy and I don't feel judged when i'm with you. I like you. A lot.”

“El...” He started, still bewildered.

‘Go ahead, tell me you don't feel the same way. Why would you?’

“El I like you too. A lot. You are so smart and amazing, and awesome. You don't let people push you around, or push me and the guys around. You are so strong even though you have dealt with a lot, and you are so so crazy intelligent. You know so much about things I had never even heard of. I like you so much.”

“Wow...” She breathed, not meaning to say it out loud, but realizing she had when he blushed.

El walked forward, and wrapped her arms around him in a sweet, yet encompassing hug. After a while they stepped apart, but remained close enough to feel each others warm breath as it clouded in the evening air.

“Wow to you too.” He Smirked. She punched him in the arm lightly, making them both laugh. She still wanted to kiss him, more than anything she wanted to kiss him, but there would be time for that another day.

El reached out and grabbed his hand, musing over how nice it was to watch the way their fingers laced together. “Goodnight Mike. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight El.” He squeezed her hand softly for a moment before mounting his bike and driving away in the direction of home. The whole way, smiling like the biggest dopey, dweeb anyone had ever seen. He understood every part of the face Lucas had made when he rejoined them on the park. He was head over heels for El Hopper, the Punk Rock badass from Chicago.

El watched him ride away, waiting until he was out of sight before she walked to her house. She decided to use the front door, assuming it would be much quieter than trying to clamber back up to her window. Her house was silent, but her ears were still ringing with the beating in her chest. She layed back down in her bed, and for the second time that day she muffled a shriek into her pillow.

Only this time, it was a scream of joy. Pure, innocent, unfaltering, heart-swelling, joy. She was head over heels for Mike Wheeler, the kindhearted nerd from Hawkins.

Tagging:

@el-themage @mileventwentyfourseven

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spiteweaver · 7 years

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Brightshine Jubilee was well and truly underway. The square, strung up with banners depicting the Lightweaver’s might in regal golds and blinding whites, never saw more traffic than during the Month of Sun. Her disciples were out in great number, either celebrating their Patron’s radiance or sharing Her gospel with anyone who would lend them an ear. As with all festivals, merchants had set up special stalls to show off rare and valuable wares--everything from rune stones, to ancient tomes, to traditional Sunbeam Ruins attire.

With only two days left until the Jubilee’s close, Dreamweaver should have been mingling with their people. It was their duty to ensure that the festivities went off without a hitch, as well as to make as many appearances as possible. They were the Lightweaver’s most favored follower, and it had become customary for them to bestow Her blessings upon those they deemed worthy during the week-long celebrations.

This year, they were nowhere to be found--or, rather, they bustled around the village so quickly that it was impossible to pin them down for longer than a single, fleeting moment. Wherever they went, they were accompanied by an entourage of their trusted subordinates--Solaire and Abaddon were the two most commonly seen at their side, playing bouncer.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Solaire would say, “but something has come up, and Dreamweaver simply doesn’t have the time for a formal appearance. I do hope you understand.”

Abaddon, meanwhile, was far more direct: “Piss off.”

This is how Banrai found them, on the warm, humid, end-of-week afternoon before the final day of Brightshine. They were speaking to Delucius in hushed tones, seemingly scolding him, though for what, Banrai could only begin to guess at. (Delucius was always being chastised for one thing or another.)

“Can’t you go easy on me?” Delucius said. “For the sake of the Eleven, I came and told you, didn’t I?”

“You kept it a secret for months!” Dreamweaver hissed. “If I’d known sooner, I could have prevented all of this! Crucis almost died, and now Mergo and Penumbra are missing! Their blood is on your hands if even a single drop of it is spilled!”

“I know, I know!” Delucius ran a nervous hand through his hair. For once in his life, he looked sincerely remorseful. “Look,” he said, “I’ve already spread the word about Atsushi and about your missing persons. If you lot don’t find them, I will--and I’ll come to you with any information I gather. I’m a sneak, but I’m not heartless.”

“Oh, really? You could have fooled me!”

Dreamweaver turned their back to Delucius to collect themself, their jaw clenched in barely restrained fury. When they caught sight of Banrai, however, their expression lightened just the slightest bit. “I have to go,” they said, “but don’t think this conversation is over, Delucius. My husband and I will discuss appropriate action, you can be certain of that.”

Delucius didn’t spend any more time than necessary in Dreamweaver’s presence, and the founders were quickly left to their own devices. Banrai, with furrowed brows and eyes soft with emotion, wrapped his arms around Dreamweaver, whispering soothing sweet nothings into their hair.

“Any news?” Dreamweaver asked.

“I wish you would rest, Dreamy,” Banrai said. “You’re worrying yourself sick, just like you always do.”

“Banrai, two of our own have presumably been abducted,” Dreamweaver reminded. “I’ll rest once they’re safe. I don’t need very much sleep anyway; you know that.”

“There’s more to rest than just sleep,” Banrai pressed. “If you would sit down for a bit, have a cup of tea--”

“Any news?”

Banrai sighed and held his mate closer. “Vladimir lost their scent at the northern border,” he informed reluctantly. “They were definitely heading that way, and they weren’t alone. Atsushi was with them--his scent was a bit older, he must have gone ahead--and there were a great many other scents Vladimir didn’t recognize. Metal, blood, probably mercenaries.”

“What would Atsushi want with them?” Dreamweaver said. “What would mercenaries want with them?”

“I don’t know, but, Dreamy, please--”

“Abaddon, go and check in on Priyanka,” Dreamweaver commanded. “Find out if her Sight is still being blocked.”

“Dreamy--”

“Solaire, I want you to put out the order to double the guard at the northern border. Future threats will likely enter the territory through there. Send word to Aphaster as well, I don’t want them getting caught up in this.”

“Dreamy--”

“Banrai, you should--”

Banrai placed his hands roughly upon Dreamweaver’s shoulders, shaking them slightly with the force of his grip. “Be quiet,” he demanded, and when they opened their mouth to protest, he sealed it with a kiss. Abaddon and Solaire exchanged amused glances before slinking off to attend to their duties.

“If you wanted a kiss,” Dreamweaver said airily, “you could have just asked, dear.”

“It was the only way I could think of to make you stop flipping orders,” Banrai replied. “I know I leave you breathless.”

“What cheek!”

“Dreamy, you need to rest,” Banrai said again. “I know there’s a lot to be done, I know Mergo and Penumbra are top priority, and I will do whatever I can to lighten your load. I will talk to whoever you need me to talk to, I will go wherever you need me to go. I will do anything, as long as you promise to just sit down for an hour and rest.”

“But--”

“Dreamweaver!”

“All right!” Dreamweaver cast their gaze down, staring hard at their own fidgeting fingers. “All right,” they conceded, “I’ll have a cup of tea.”

“Thank you,” Banrai breathed, and, relieved, sagged against them. “You’ve no idea how exhausted I am just from watching you run about all over the place.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” Dreamweaver said sweetly. “Here, take this list, tell everyone on it to keep a sharp eye out, and I’ll curl up with a nice book for a spell.”

“You promise?” Banrai asked. “You promise me you’ll go straight home?”

“Yes, dearest.”

Banrai’s eyes narrowed, but he pressed another firm kiss to Dreamweaver’s lips and left them all the same. They watched him go, waving and wearing the dreamy smile they always wore when bidding their beloved husband farewell. Not for the first time, they thought about how good he was, and about how much they did not deserve him.

Then, wishing they could stare after him for just a few moments longer, Dreamweaver turned and started across the square.

The house felt lonely to them when they entered. Normally, Banrai would have been in the kitchen preparing something lovely for them, but with him tending to their duties, they would have to do it themself. The boys were out as well, even Xerxes, who nowadays spent much of his time in the hospital visiting Isaiah and Crucis, so the whole place was quiet and, they thought, somewhat bleak.

“This will be what it’s like when Phantasos moves out, I suppose,” they said. “Well, at least I’ll always have Silas and Samuel.”

As the kettle sang on the stove, they contemplated breaking their promise to Banrai and sneaking out to have another word with Crucis--but the image of their husband’s tired, worried face soon put all thoughts of betrayal out of their head. They couldn’t bring themself to make him fret any more than they already had. For now, they resolved to keep themself out of trouble, for Banrai’s sake.

It seemed that trouble was resolved to find them, though. A great crash sounded from the den, and Dreamweaver started so badly that they dropped the cup in their hands. Instantly, they were on high alert, their eyes glowing with that familiar otherworldly light.

There was a stranger waiting for them in the doorway. He was excessively tall, with arms like pillars of stone and hair as bright as sizzling phosphorous. They could smell, underneath the dirt and blood, the distinct odor of a drake who drank far too much whiskey.

“You’ve picked a very bad target,” they said, and without warning, lashed out, wrapping tendrils of starlight around the intruder. The drake didn’t resist. “Are you here to steal from me? Or perhaps to kill me? Many have tried, all have fallen by my hand.”

“Neither,” the drake said, “I’m here on a favor to Mergo.”

Their grip tightened around him. They heard his ribs creak. “Where is he?” they growled. “Where is Mergo?”

“If I tell ya,” the drake began, “you’ve gotta promise me ya won’t go barrelin’ headlong into danger. Mergo’d never forgive me if I let ya run up in there without any sort of a plan.”

“Who are you?”

“Argus.”

“Is Mergo safe?”

“Relatively speakin’.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ouch, ouch!” Argus gritted his teeth. “Ease up, would ya?”

“I can kill you,” Dreamweaver warned, “I can and I will. I’m going to release you now, but if you so much as twitch in a way I find suspect, I will not hesitate.”

“Aye,” Argus rasped, “I know you’re not the type to hold back. I’ll behave myself.”

They called their nebula of hair back to them, and Argus fell to the ground, gasping for air. Dreamweaver noted that he was unarmed, save for a single small dagger at his waist. If he was carrying anything else, it must have been very well-hidden.

“Didn’t know ya could do that,” Argus admitted. “Who ever heard’a hair magic?”

“I’m a shape-shifter,” Dreamweaver said, “but surely you know that, since you seem to know so much about me. Come into the kitchen, I’m making tea.”

Argus obliged, dropping into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh of relief. Once Dreamweaver had served him his tea and poured their own, he spoke again. “I’m a merc,” he said, “and I work for a bloke who wants ya dead.”

“There are a great many people who want me dead,” Dreamweaver replied. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“Don’t know his name,” Argus went on, “‘dunno if he even has one. None of us have ever seen ‘im. He cloaks himself in shadow, never leaves his castle, and Atsushi’s the only one who’s any kinda close to ‘im.”

“Atsushi,” Dreamweaver spat, “that rat.”

“Anyhow...” Argus took a long, appreciative sip from his cup. “Right before Brightshine, he sent me ‘n another fella out to snatch Mergo and, ah, I think their name's Penumbra--”

“Then Penumbra is safe as well?” Dreamweaver asked urgently.

“Aye,” Argus replied, “as safe as they can be. Still ‘dunno what the boss wants with ‘em, but it can’t be anything worse than what he wants with Mergo.” Dreamweaver flinched. “Ah, sorry,” Argus said, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’m not used to bein’, y’know, delicate. I’ll be honest, the boss is doin’ a number on Mergo. Tryin’ to get information out of ‘im.”

“Information that will help him harm me?”

“Yeah.”

Dreamweaver hid their face in their hands. Argus turned away politely, to give them a moment to collect themself. “Mergo’s a tough guy,” he said. “Hasn’t given an inch. Me, I would’a cracked days ago. The boss--he makes ya see things.”

Suddenly, Dreamweaver looked up, their eyes wide and staring through Argus. “What things?” they whispered harshly. “What things does he make you see?”

Argus hunched his shoulders. “Your worst fears,” he mumbled. “Memories from when ya were young, loss, guilt, whatever it is that scares ya most. He reaches right in and just--just rips it all out’a ya.”

Dreamweaver stood on trembling legs, and Argus scrambled up with them--not out of fear for his own life, but fear for theirs. They looked ill, the color drained from their face, the wildness of their hair tamed into limp orchid locks. They were still staring, staring, staring--through the entire world, it seemed, their eyes glazed over with dawning horror.

“You need to get them out,” they croaked.

“Hey now, I ‘dunno if I can do that much--”

“They can’t be left there with him!” they shrieked, and Argus fell back into his chair in shock. “You fool! You idiot, don’t you know what he is?! Don’t you know why he wants me?! Oh, oh, of course, it all makes sense! The flood, the celestine, it was all to weaken me! It was to make me an easier target! He wanted me to expend as much energy as possible, lose as much sleep as possible, worry myself so thin that I couldn’t think straight!”

“Aye, that’s true,” Argus said timidly, “but what’s he to ya?”

“He’s...” Dreamweaver heaved, but nothing came up. They saw it, though. They saw that black tar, oozing from between their lips and ruining everything it touched, that far-off village at the Beacon, that leering grin looming over them.

“Inside or outside, it will always be a part of you.”

“You can never be rid of it.”

“Calm down,” Argus implored, “you’re just workin’ yourself into a--”

“He’s me.”

Dreamweaver collapsed onto their knees, and Argus, through a haze of confusion, moved to their side. He pulled them up and pushed them into their seat--none too gently, because, true to his word, he just wasn’t accustomed to delicacy. They immediately flopped forward and hid their face from view again.

For a long while, neither spoke, but Argus could make out, just barely, miserable whisperings from between Dreamweaver’s fingers. “It’s my fault,” they murmured. “I’ve killed them all.”

“I’ll do what I can to get ‘em both out,” he offered at length. “If it’s that important, I’ll do whatever I can.”

Dreamweaver nodded. Their breathing was ragged, punctuated by hitches and catches, but they appeared to be calming down. Still, they could see the blackness on their hands, their clothes, pooling beneath their feet. Their eyes seemed to shake in their sockets, and the whole world shook with them.

“What’d ya mean?” Argus asked. “What’d ya mean when ya said he’s you?”

“He’s the...” Dreamweaver gagged. “He’s the darkness of my own heart. I expelled him, long ago, because--because I wanted--”

“That’s what he’s so raw about then?” Argus said. He’d gotten Dreamweaver talking again; he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

“Yes,” Dreamweaver confirmed, “yes, I’d imagine he’s still--that he still wants to be reunited with me. That’s what he wanted before, but now--now you say he wants me dead. That’s not possible. If I die, he, too--but I thought I’d done away with him! He shouldn’t still be--or, at least, if he was, he shouldn’t have the power to--”

“I can tell ya firsthand, the fucker’s alive ‘n well.”

“Then I can’t kill him.”

Dreamweaver pressed their hands to their lips. The black wouldn’t stop. It crept out between their fingers. “I can’t kill him,” they said. “I have to--I need to--please, tell me where he is. Get Mergo and Penumbra out, and--and I’ll--”

“You’ll what?” Argus asked. “Sacrifice yourself?”

“No!” Dreamweaver exclaimed. “Yes!”

“Ya’ve gotta have a better plan than that.”

“There is no better plan!” Dreamweaver insisted. “You think I didn’t spend eons of my life plotting and scheming how best to be rid of him? I thought I’d killed him, but if what I did to him then wasn’t enough, nothing will be! He’ll live on, until I die, and he’ll hunt me forever! Either I die, or...”

They fell silent. An eerie calm had come over them, and Argus didn’t like it one bit. “Oi,” he said, “you’re plannin’ somethin’ dangerous, aren’t’cha? Ya’d better not. I just got in good with Mergo again. How’s he gonna feel if I go back there ‘n tell ‘im you’re about to do somethin’ crazy?”

“It’s not crazy,” Dreamweaver assured, “it’s just--it’s our only option. Argus, please, do whatever you can to get my people out of there. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I show up out of the blue, and I want to know they’re safe before I do anything drastic.”

“Already said I’d see to it, didn’t I?”

Dreamweaver stood again. Now that they had some sense of direction, they were steadier. “Do not speak of this to anyone,” they said, “not even to my husband. I’ll tell him when--when the time is right.”

“Aye.”

“Thank you,” Dreamweaver said, “for coming here. Once this is all over, you’ll find refuge in my clan.”

“That’s awfully kind of ya,” Argus said. “I figured ya’d kill me ‘n be done with it.”

“You’re a good drake.”

“Mergo said that, too. I think ya both need to have your heads checked.”

“Go now,” Dreamweaver urged. “Be quick. Send word when they’re well away from the castle.”

“Don’t ya need me to tell ya where it is?” Argus asked.

Dreamweaver’s hands clenched into fists. There was a fire in their eyes now that even Argus, with as much as he had seen and experienced, was awed by. “No,” they said. “I know where it is. I know where he would wait for me.”

#flight rising #fr #zach writes #clan feldspar #feldspar lore #chapter: heart of darkness #c: dreamweaver #c: argus

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