#Miriam Elia

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Feb 26, 2024

[ Credit: Miriam Elia ]

Far away in the land of Sylvania, some woodland creatures have gathered to celebrate Pride. There’s a cross-dressing fox, a PVC-clad boar, a rabbit in full drag on a float. Rainbow flags and bunting abound. But just out of sight, perched above an ice-cream kiosk, are three sinister little figures in black face masks. They could be hedgehogs. They could be squirrels. One of them has a machine gun.

Isis in Sylvania was the work of the satirist Miriam Elia, a set of tableaux which was meant to be shown at the Passion for Freedom art exhibition at the Mall Galleries in London in 2015. The pieces were withdrawn after police said they might cause offence. That the gallery capitulated so easily would suggest that its self-declared “passion for freedom” was limited.

Elia’s display brilliantly lampooned our infantile response to the growing threat of Islamic terrorism, and it seems more relevant today than ever. After the police had sent emails to the gallery declaring that Isis in Sylvania was “not art” and that “all mentions of it should be removed from the promotional materials, social media etc”, Elia responded:

“The decision to censor shows that our establishment is more threatened by satire, clarity and truth than by young men willing to kill, rape and pillage in the name of Islam. Apparently my images were ‘potentially inflammatory’ to terrorists. This is the equivalent of saying an anti-Nazi cartoon in the late 1930s was offensive… to Nazis. Those who justify and protect barbaric totalitarianism, in whichever form, are on the fast track to becoming totalitarian themselves.”

The reaction of the police, of course, exemplified the very problem that Elia had been satirising in the first place.

It should be clear to everyone by now that kowtowing to the wishes of terrorists only encourages them. Last week Lindsay Hoyle, speaker of the House of Commons, was pressurised into overriding parliamentary convention because of an apparent risk to security. He spoke of “absolutely frightening” threats directed at MPs because of their reluctance to call for a ceasefire in Gaza. He also alluded to the murder of MP David Amess by an ISIS sympathiser. “I never want to go through a situation where I find a friend from any side has been murdered,” he said, “I also don’t want another attack on this House.” The word “Islamist” was not mentioned, as though not talking about the problem might make it disappear.

Hoyle is correct that the threat of violence is very real. Nobody would seek to downplay the murder of David Amess at his constituency surgery in Essex in 2021, or the beheading of schoolteacher Samuel Paty in Paris in 2020, or the massacre at the offices of satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo in 2015. But our tendency to forget these atrocities, and move on as if nothing has happened, is chilling. Many of our politicians are too afraid to address the issues out of fear of being branded “islamophobic”, an absurd neologism often deployed to conflate anti-Muslim hatred with legitimate criticism of Islam.

How much reflection was there after the Manchester Arena bombing in May 2017 in which children and teenagers were slain? After the killing of Amess there was endless discussion in parliament about how we needed to crack down on social media, as though the radical Islamist responsible was motivated by online trolling rather than the creed of a medieval death-cult. We are like the woodland animals in another of Elia’s scenes, blissfully enjoying a picnic while armed and masked assailants appear on the horizon.

[ Credit: Miriam Elia ]

So while I have sympathy for Hoyle’s very human reaction to the spectre of violence, it is clear that the failure of politicians to accurately diagnose the problem is only making matters worse. Those few brave individuals who are prepared to speak out are putting themselves in danger. But with a collective effort the risk could be spread and at least become tolerable. After the Charlie Hebdo atrocity, media outlets refused to show the offending cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed, but if all of them had done so simultaneously, the threat could have been diluted.

If the speaker of the House of Commons is prepared to modify parliamentary procedures due to threats from far-left cranks and radical islamists, where does this leave our democracy? It is hardly surprising that increasingly we are seeing commentators claiming that the values of liberalism cannot be sustained against this particular brand of authoritarianism. They suggest that liberals are too weak to tackle those who do not share their commitment to individual freedom.

It is true that too often exemptions have been made out of fear of causing offence to religious minorities. Police in the north of England failed to enforce the law against predominately Pakistani grooming gangs for fear of being branded “racist”. The inquiry into the Manchester Arena bombing found that security guards held back from intercepting the killer for similar reasons. Sharia courts have been operating in the United Kingdom for decades and, although their rulings have no legal standing, they do hold authority within Muslim communities. And we have seen how police have overlooked some of the worst behaviour at the now regular pro-Palestine marches in London.

But this is not a weakness at the heart of liberalism; it is the failure to properly follow its principles. All branches of liberal thought – from the conservative liberalism of Friedrich Hayek to the social liberalism of John Rawls – share an understanding that the rule of law is paramount. Individual autonomy cannot be preserved if the state is unable to maintain the peace and impartially resolve the natural conflicts of human existence.

A well-intentioned commitment to multiculturalism has enabled parallel societies to flourish within the United Kingdom. In turn, this has granted authority to the most reactionary elements within religious communities. Sharia law may be an ambition for ultra-conservative theocrats, but many female and gay Muslims will not find it such an appealing prospect. We need to stop appeasing these minorities within minorities, small groups of extremists that by no means represent the average British Muslim. And this means that our parliamentarians must retain their courage, even in the face of violent threats.

More than anything, we need to be able to talk about this crisis with honesty and candour. However comforting it might be in the short term, our political class cannot go on living in their Sylvanian fantasy, wilfully oblivious to the masked elephant in the room. This denialism is a form of procrastination, putting off the inevitable for another day. The values of our liberal democracy and our hard-won rights are under threat. It’s time to grow up. 

A limited edition book of all the images in Miriam Elia’s “Isis in Sylvania” series is available to buy here. A signed limited edition print of the picnic scene is available here.

==

We have to stop being panicked when people claim to be offended.

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

Physical contact as a love language, and its dangers

[goponylover]

TMA: FAITH AU

[endlessly-cursed]

WWTG22: The Welcome Ball 2.0- For The Rest of My Life (Abeline)

Emmeline had been dancing with Abe for most of the night, and it was honestly liberating to dance to her heart’s delight without her father glaring daggers at her beloved Abe, though he had gotted accustomed to him by now. As she rested, she spotted her dear friend Zelda dancing with Oscar Erdstern while Elias Cairncross observed closely, a ghost of a smile on his face. He spotted her and nodded her hello, and she did the same. She noticed a pair of familiar hands who hugged her waist and whispered in her ear “Come with me for a moment, my love.” 

She turned around to face her beloved Abraham, and she gladly took his hand, which he kissed and picked their coats and went out to the snowy gardens. Emmeline soon shivered and put around her coat, and Abe took the hint, hugging her with one arm “Where are we going, dearest? It’s freezing cold! It may be the coldest night here.” 

“I promise it’ll be worthy, my love. Here, put this on.” 

She frowned when he offered her the blindfold, but put it on her eyes nevertheless. She trusted Abe fully: he knew Winbourne like the palm of his hand, for he and the hostess were very good friends and had grown up visiting her. She almost slipped, but Abe’s strong arms always steadied her. When he warned her of the steps, she was careful, and when she noticed the echo and the feeling that she was on something made of marble, she asked Abe if she could open her eyes, and he agreed. When she opened her eyes, she was indeed in something made of marble... her famous gazebo in the small lake, candlelit with her favourite scent and with petals of the same shade of red roses as her hair. She gasped and smiled at such a sweet detail, and when she spun around, Abe was on one knee, offering a rose to her “Abe...?” 

He took her hand and kissed it “Emmeline, my darling Emmie... These past years have been the best in my life, and not only because of the mischief we caused, but because I got to fall in love and be your partner all these years.” He took a deep breath “I know how you feel about marriage, and I like to think this is the best moment, so I’ll just ask you; Emmeline Antonia Falcon, will you do me the honour, nay, privilege to be your loving and most devoted husband?” 

Emmeline had been weeping of emotion and joy. Just like her mother and her stepmother Hestia had told her, she would surely weep of joy when Abe popped the question. When she found the words, she said “Abraham... Abe... yes, yes, oh Merlin, YES!” 

He smiled widely and got up, hugging her and spinning her around, both laughing and crying, not wanting to let go. Without helping himself, he kissed her and she kissed him back, melting into the joy they both had. Between kisses, the exchanged ‘I love you’s and laughs, and Abe wiped her tears kissing her entire face, simply overjoyed that she said yes. For a  moment, neither of them thought of the probably stroke her father would have, but rather the beautiful moment they were sharing. She’d have to extend her gratitude to the Ladu Gray, who surely made sure this was decorated at her tastes. 

When they came back, she ran towards Zelda and told her the news and both beamed, hugging one another. Elias hugged her congratulations and so did Miriam, both talking of ideas for the wedding. Oscar patted Abe’s back, who was smiling impossibly wide. 

“Guests, if I may have your attention!” Abe suddenly called, and everything paused, their eyes on him. He took Emmeline’s hand “I have asked Miss Falcon to marry me... and she said yes!” 

Everyone whooped and cheered, and an equally cheerful music started playing and everyone got back to dancing, including Abe and Emmeline, Oscar and Zelda and even Miriam and Elias. 

And so they danced the night away, happy that Abe and Emmie were about to be together... for the rest of their lives. 

Abe and Oscar belongs to the wonderful @cursed-herbalist 

Zelda, Miriam, Elias and Hestia belongs to @cursebreakerfarrier​ 

[apinchofm]

"Director's cut" on The Shepherds about Miriam's relationship with her mother!

Ooh, this is fun.

Miriam and her mother was a fun concept I gathered from a few lines in 'Time's Convert' and also Miriam's personality itself.

Elia is a formidable woman, much like Miriam. She blends easily between Europe and Asia, settling in as a prioress in Jerusalem for a while when her husband Salilh was in Castile. There, she meets a young girl from a well off family, with grit and determination to know what the boys were learning in their lessons.

Miriam loves her maker and mother, taking in her lessons. But she meets her father and they mesh so well, better than she did with Elia who often felt frustrated by the young vampire.

Their tension comes from being very much alike - they are both fiercely protective of what they have, because they fought for what they have and had to continue to fight. But where Miriam has embraced change and learned to move with her pain, forgive but not forget what has happened and try to not make those same mistakes. Elia does not forgive or forget. Empathy for those outside of her immediate family is hard, hence why she cares for Phoebe who becomes her blood, even though she judges her but she still wants Matthew dead for spreading blood rage back during the Crusades.

Two immovable, immortal badass women.

[esimsterlookbook]

Jennifer Sims 4 CC Lookbook

Meet Jennifer, a college girl dressing up for sorority formals and going out to frat parties!

Base Sim Genetics found here

Everyday:

Hair: XX Black Sims Janae Hair

Outfit: Busara-Tr Polo Shirt P35 / Lazy Eyelids crop slim fit jeans

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Giulietta Sims Danna Thin Hoop Earrings / That Sims 4 Core Cherry Belly Bar v1

Makeup: That one Green Leaf Abigail Makeup / lady simmer must be love blushes / Praline sims Lip N236 Lucid Dream

Formal:

Hair: XX Black Sims Cici Curly Ponytail

Outfit: Trillyke Cupid Dress / Mermalade Strappy Wide Heels

Accessories: Glitterberry Sims Citrine Diamond Necklace / Symphony Sims Olivia Bracelet / Simpliciaty's Elia Rings / Sugar Owl Perla Rings / Giulietta Sims Denise Watch / Gorilla x3 Multi Ring Earrings

Makeup: Breezy Trait Petals Makeup / Praline sims Eyeshadow N93 Butterflys Dance

Athletic:

Hair: Kie Gross Sims Serena Curled with braids full lace

Outfit: Seoul-Seoul #39 T-Shirt / Sunberry Aespa Spicy Giselle Pants / Mysterious Dane Adidas Gazelle Shoes

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Jolliebean Peak Performance Basic Socks / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1

Sleep:

Outfit: Busara-tr Xmas PJ Top P77 / Busara-tr Xmas PJ Bottoms P77

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1

Party:

Hair: Brandy Sims Kim Butterfly Locs 1

Outfit: Belaloallure Selma tank top / Belaloallure Nina Denim Skirt / Jius Ankle Boots 4

Accessories: Giulietta Sims Athena Bracelet Set / That Sims 4 Core Bunny Belly Bar v1

Makeup: Lady Simmer Au Naturel Eyeshadow / Lady Simmer floral puff lip glosses / Giulietta Sims Long Stiletto French Tips Ombre Nails

Swim:

Hair: Nightcrawler Reflect Hair

Outfit: busara-tr Ocean Collection Bikini Top P200 + Bottom P200

Accessories: Aretha Bee Jayleen Sunglasses / Giulietta Sims Danna Thin Hoop Earrings / Simpliciaty Elise Rings / Suzue Piercing N31 Belly Piercing / Glitterberry Sims A Tale of Love Ring 11 / Sugar Owl Daughtry Rings / Gorilla x3 Basic Coin Necklace

Hot Weather:

Hair: Shea Buttyr Penisha Ponytails V1

Outfit: Seoul Soul 2024 #40 Top - Public Release September 14 2024 / Serenity Naomi Shorts / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / S-Club WM ts4 bracelet 202009 / Praline Sims Thunder V1 Earrings / Blue Craving Goth is Rock Asymmetrical Septum Piercing / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1 / Gorilla x3 Butterfly Necklace II

Makeup: Aretha Bee Flwr Eyeshadow / Poyopoyo Lips N19 / Jolliebean Nail it 2.0

Cold Weather:

Hair: KiaraZurk Miriam Curls

Outfit: Trillyke Bad Chemical Jacket / Serenity Maddy & Cassie Matching Set Pants / Jius Snow boots 03

Accessories: Sims House Hat January 22 / Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Aretha Bee Luv Septum

Makeup: Breezy Trait Petals Makeup / Praline Sims Blush 78 Mocha / Northern Siberia Winds Blush N8 / Jolliebean Nail it 2.0

As always please let me know if any links aren't working and I'll do my best to fix them. In addition thank you to the amazing CC creators for making such wonderful items!

Note: I'm trying out different ways of formatting look books so please let me know which one anyone prefers a certain way and I'll try to stick to that more!

[noh07]

list of mixed name ideas (oct 27, 2024)

i sorted them into three categories: androgynous, feminine and masculine.

in this list, there's any type of names (mostly for english-speaking people though): typical first names, noun names, mythology names, etc.

if you have more ideas of names for trans folks, writers, etc, just lemme know! (Can also be not-so-cool names for the writers, we need them for the asshole side characters :3)

i will update the list every time I have a lot of new name suggestions. you can find the newest list under the tag #updated name list on my profile.

(alphabetical list with 398 mixed names under the cut)

--- androgynous ---

Aki

Alex

Alexis

Ares

Ari

Artemis

Aster

Bennie/Benny

Blair

Charlie

Chrissy

Crimson

Eli

Evie

Finn/Fynn

Frances/Francis

Hayden

Jackie/Jacky

Jess

Jessie

Lou

Louie

Mag

Maggot

Max

Mika

Miko

Noah

Ollie

Quinn

Rafa

Robin

Shilo/Shiloh

Sky/Skye

Val

Vin

Vinnie/Vinny

Wilson

--- feminine ---

Abby

Abigail

Aileen/Eileen

Aimee/Amy

Alessia

Alexa

Alexia

Alexandra

Alice

Alissa

Amalia

Amber/Ember

Amelia

Amelie

Angie

Anna

Anne

Annie

Anastasia

Andrea/Andreea

Antheia

Astra

Audrey

Bailey

Becky

Bella

Belle

Bettie/Betty

Brie

Carla/Karla

Carolina

Caroline

Catherine

Celina/Selena/Selina

Celine

Charlotte

Christina/Kristina

Christine/Kristine

Claire

Cora/Corah

Daniela/Daniella

Danielle

Dalia/Daliah

Debbie

Debora/Deborah

Delilah

Diana/Diane

Dora/Dorah

Eburia

Elena

Eleanor/Elenor

Elisa/Eliza

Elizabeth

Ella

Emery

Emilia

Emilie/Emily

Emma

Eva

Evie

Evelyn

Fenya

Finya

Fiona

Francisca/Franziska

Gaia

Gina

Hanna/Hannah

Harmony

Hecate

Hera

Hestia

Hope

Irena

Irene

Iris

Isa

Isabel/Isabelle

Isabela/Isabella

Ivory

Ivonne/Yvonne

Ivy

Izzy

Jasmin/Jasmine

Jenna

Jenny

Jolene

Julia

Julianne

Julie

Juliet/Juliette

Katarina/Katharina

Kathy/Katy

Laura

Lauren

Laurel

Lara

Lena

Leia/Leya

Levina

Levinia

Liara

Lili/Lilli/Lilly/Lily

Lilian/Lilien

Lisa

Livia

Lola

Lorelei

Louisa/Luisa

Louise/Luise

Luce

Lucy

Luna

Madeline

Maggie/Meggie

Meg

Marlene

Maira/Myra

Margaret

Marge

Marlene

Maria/Mariah

Marie/Mary

Melanie

Melissa

Mellie/Melly

Mia

Milly

Mina

Minerva

Minnie

Miriam

Naira/Nyra

Natalia

Natalie

Natasha

Nellie/Nelly

Nessie

Nina

Nora/Norah

OIiv/Olive

Olivia

Ollie

Paula

Peggy

Penelope/Pinelopy

Penny

Philippa

Polly

Poppy

Rebecka

Robin

Roxanne

Sara/Sarah

Stella

Stephanie/Stephany

Tara/Tarah

Tina

Valerie/Valery

Vanessa

Veronica

Victoria

Viona

Vivian

Viviana

Willow

Yasmin/Yasmine

Zoe/Zoé/Zoey

--- masculine ---

Aion

Alex

Alexander

Amon

Anthony

Anton

Ares

Ben

Benjamin

Bennie/Benny

Bill

Billy

Brian

Calvin

Carl/Karl

Chad

Chris

Chrissy

Damian

Dan

Daniel

Davon/Devon

Dorian

Elia/Elijah

Elio

Eliot/Elliot/Elliott

Emilio

Erion

Evan

Felix

Finn/Fynn

Icarus

Jack

Jackie/Jacky

Jona/Jonah

Jonas

Jones

Julian/Julien

Julius

Justin

Kevin

Leo

Linus

Louie

Louis/Luis

Lucc/Luke

Lucas/Lukas

Luigi

Marc

Marco

Mario

Max

Michael

Mickey

Mike

Milo

Nathan

Nick

Nico/Niko/Nikko

Noah

Oliver

Ollie

Paul

Pete

Peter

Robin

Sebastian

Steve

Steven

Theodore

Tim

Toby

Tom

Tommy

Tony

Valentine

Victor

Wilson

Zach/Zack

If you want me to add things like meanings, origins, etc you can just tell me!!

[hebrewbyinbal]

The Central Bureau of Statistics in Israel recently revealed that the most common name among newborn boys in Israel is Muhammad, topping the list with 2,353 occurrences.

This statistic is not just a number; it's a testament to the rich cultural mosaic that defines Israel. It stands as a profound proof against the ridiculous allegations about Israel being an ap@rtheid state. How can such claims hold when the most popular name in a nation reflects its diverse and inclusive society?

In Israel, names like Muhammad, Joseph, and David lead among boys—each from different cultural backgrounds, illustrating the harmonious coexistence within the country.

For girls, the name Avigail took the lead this year with 1,278 registrations, followed closely by Ayelet, Tamar, and Maya.

This diversity is mirrored across various communities within Israel, where Arab names like Miriam and Watheen Sham are equally celebrated among newborn girls.

This blend of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian names among the country’s most popular indicates an intertwined society where communities from different ethnicities and religions live together.

The popular names among Christians being Charbel, Elias, and George, and among Druze, Adam and Liam are telling of this blend.

The naming trends in Israel are a clear indicator of the country's evolving cultural fabric, standing in stark contrast to any accusations of segregation or discrimination.

As we look at these trends, it becomes evident that Israel's societal structure is far from the divisive ap@rtheid false narrative; instead, it is a vibrant testament to coexistence and multiculturalism.

#boynames #girlnames #israel #diversity #inclusion

[misaligncd]

i'm itching for more things so this is a starter call for the muses listed below. i'm feeling both smutty and spooky so might be halloween related! please like and respond with which one(s) you'd like a starter from!

billie dearden. 25-30. bartender. bicurious. ella purnell fc.

elias ward. 25-30. audio content creator. heterosexual. jacob elordi fc.

hayden miller. 25-30. teacher. heterosexual. josephine langford fc.

winston booth. 25-30. artist. heterosexual. tom holland fc.

june tuli. 20-25. unemployed. bicurious. sabrina carpenter fc.

rian boden. 30-35. boxer. heterosexual. barry keoghan fc.

beatriz carrero. 30-35. freelance photographer. bisexual. adria arjona fc.

denver scots. 35-40. professor. heterosexual. glen powell fc.

miriam todd. 30-35. housewife. bisexual(closeted). olivia cooke fc.

mariano videla. 45-50. carpenter. heterosexual. pedro pascal fc.

[timeless-fanfic]

Chapter 5: The New Dawn

Word Count: 2240

Andrew x Reader

The night passed quietly, the kind of deep, restful sleep that wraps itself around you like a warm blanket. When I finally stirred, the first light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the small window of my room, casting a soft, golden glow across the floor. I lay there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the house waking up around me—the muted clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the low hum of voices, and the occasional creak of the wooden floorboards.

There was something different about this morning, something that made me linger in bed a little longer than usual. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t waking up alone. The presence of Jesus and His disciples, though still a bit surreal to me, had brought a sense of comfort and community that I hadn’t realized I was missing. It was as though their arrival had filled the house with an energy that had been absent for far too long.

After a few more minutes, I finally pushed myself up and out of bed, stretching my arms above my head to shake off the last remnants of sleep. The cool air of the morning brushed against my skin, refreshing and invigorating, as I slipped on my sandals and made my way out of the small room.

The main room of the house was already alive with activity. Elias was outside, drawing water from the well, while Miriam bustled about in the kitchen, her hands busy with the morning meal. The disciples were scattered about, some sitting quietly in prayer, others engaged in low conversation. As I entered the room, a few of them looked up and greeted me with kind smiles and nods, their expressions warm and welcoming.

I returned their greetings, feeling a strange mix of shyness and curiosity. Though I had never met these men before last night, there was something about them that put me at ease, as if they were old friends I had simply forgotten. As I moved through the room, I couldn’t help but notice how at peace they all seemed, even in the midst of their travels. It was a stark contrast to the restless energy that often plagued my own life, and I found myself wondering what it was that gave them such calmness.

Miriam caught my eye as I passed by the kitchen, waving me over with a smile. “Good morning,” she said, her voice soft and cheerful. “Did you sleep well?”

I nodded, returning her smile. “I did, thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept so soundly.”

“Good, good,” she replied, patting my arm affectionately. “There’s something about having a house full of guests that makes everything feel more alive, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t argue with that. The house did feel more alive, more vibrant than it had in weeks. As we spoke, I noticed that the others were beginning to gather around the table, drawn by the smell of the food Miriam was preparing. Elias came in from outside, carrying a large jug of water, and set it down with a grunt.

“Ah, there you are,” he said when he saw me, his voice gruff but fond. “Thought you might have slept through breakfast.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Not today, Elias. I wouldn’t miss one of Miriam’s meals for the world.”

He grinned, his weathered face creasing into a smile. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, come on, let’s get everyone fed. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

As we all gathered around the table, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for these simple moments of togetherness. There was something so comforting about the routine of sharing a meal, of being surrounded by people who cared for one another, even if they had only just met. It was a feeling I had missed for far too long, and I found myself silently thanking whatever force had brought these men to our door.

The conversation flowed easily as we ate, the disciples sharing stories of their travels and the people they had met along the way. Jesus, though mostly quiet, listened intently, occasionally offering a word of wisdom or encouragement that seemed to resonate deeply with everyone at the table. There was a lightness in the air, a sense of shared purpose that made the morning feel almost sacred.

As the meal began to wind down, I noticed that Andrew, the disciple I had exchanged glances with the night before, was sitting quietly at the end of the table, his gaze distant as if lost in thought. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to approach him, curious about the man who had captured my attention so unexpectedly.

“Good morning,” I said as I sat down beside him, offering a small smile. “You seem deep in thought.”

He looked up, startled out of his reverie, and returned my smile with one of his own. “Good morning,” he replied, his voice warm. “Yes, I suppose I am. It’s hard not to be, in the presence of such wisdom.”

I nodded, understanding what he meant. There was something about Jesus that drew people in, that made them reflect on their own lives and choices in a way that felt both gentle and profound.

“I’ve been thinking a lot too,” I admitted, my voice quiet. “About everything that’s happened, and about where I’m meant to go from here.”

Andrew’s expression softened, and he leaned in slightly, as if to make sure I knew he was listening. “And what have you decided?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I tried to put my thoughts into words. “I’m not sure yet. It’s all so new to me… this place, these people. It’s hard to know what’s right, what path I should take.”

He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I understand. But I think you’re stronger than you realize. You’ve already come so far, and you’ve done so much good. Maybe the path isn’t as unclear as you think.”

His words were comforting, and I felt a small spark of hope light up within me. Perhaps he was right—perhaps I had been so focused on the uncertainty that I had forgotten to see the progress I had already made.

Before I could respond, a voice from across the room called out, breaking the quiet moment between us. It was John, one of the other disciples, who seemed to be in high spirits this morning.

“Andrew! Are you going to sit there all day, or are you going to help with the packing?” he teased, a playful grin on his face.

Andrew laughed, the sound light and easy. “All right, all right, I’m coming!” he called back, giving me an apologetic look as he stood up. “Duty calls, I suppose.”

I smiled, nodding in understanding. “Thank you for the conversation, Andrew. It was… nice.”

He returned my smile, a hint of something more in his eyes. “The pleasure was mine. Perhaps we’ll have another chance to talk later.”

With that, he turned and made his way over to where John was waiting, leaving me to my thoughts once more. As I watched him go, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of connection to this man I had only just met. There was something about him that made me feel… seen, in a way I hadn’t in a long time.

The rest of the morning passed quickly, the house buzzing with activity as the disciples prepared to continue their journey. I helped where I could, gathering blankets and filling water jugs, making sure everyone had what they needed for the road ahead. It was a busy, bustling scene, but there was a sense of quiet joy in the air, a feeling of purpose that seemed to drive everyone forward.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, casting warm light over the small courtyard outside, I found myself pausing for a moment, taking it all in. The sounds of laughter and conversation, the sight of these men—so different from one another, yet united by a common goal—working together in harmony, the feeling of being part of something greater than myself… it was all so overwhelming, and yet so beautiful.

Finally, when everything was ready, Jesus gathered His disciples together, speaking softly to them as they prepared to leave. There was a sense of reverence in the air as they listened to Him, their faces filled with a quiet determination.

Elias and Miriam stood nearby, watching with expressions of pride and respect. I joined them, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for these two people who had taken me in without question, who had given me a place to belong.

As the disciples began to file out of the courtyard, heading towards the road that would take them to their next destination, Jesus paused and turned back to us. His gaze was warm, filled with a kindness that seemed to see right through to the heart.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” He said, His voice gentle. “You have opened your home to us, and for that, we are deeply grateful.”

Elias nodded, his voice thick with emotion. “It was our honor, Rabbi. May God bless you and keep you on your journey.”

Jesus smiled, a small, peaceful smile that seemed to light up the entire courtyard. “And may He bless you as well. Until we meet again.”

I expected Him to turn and leave with the others, but instead, Jesus held my gaze, His expression thoughtful. There was something in His eyes, something that seemed to speak directly to my soul, as if He could see every doubt, every fear, and every hope I held within me.

“Will you join us?” He asked, His voice calm but carrying a weight that made my heart skip a beat.

I blinked, taken aback by the question. “Join you?”

“Yes,” He replied, nodding gently. “There is a place for you with us, if you wish it. You have a gift, one that could bring healing and hope to many. The path we walk is not an easy one, but it is filled with purpose. If you choose to walk it with us, you will never walk alone.”

The weight of His words settled over me like a heavy blanket, both comforting and overwhelming. My heart raced as I tried to process what He was offering. A part of me felt drawn to it, to the idea of traveling with these men who seemed so sure of their purpose, who had found a way to serve something greater than themselves. But another part of me hesitated, unsure if I was ready to leave behind the life I had built here, the people I had grown to love.

I glanced over at Elias and Miriam, searching their faces for some kind of guidance. They were watching me closely, their expressions a mix of pride, concern, and understanding. Miriam gave me a small nod, her eyes filled with encouragement, while Elias simply folded his arms across his chest, waiting for me to decide.

The silence stretched on, each heartbeat pounding in my ears as I weighed my options. It would be so easy to say no, to stay in the comfort of the familiar, to continue the work I had started here. But something deep within me—a small, insistent voice—urged me to take a chance, to step into the unknown and see where this new path might lead.

Finally, I met Jesus’s gaze again, feeling a strange sense of calm settle over me as I made my decision.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. Then, with more certainty, I repeated, “Yes, I will join you.”

A warm smile spread across Jesus’s face, and He reached out to gently touch my arm. “Then let us walk together.”

The decision made, a mix of fear and excitement surged through me, but beneath it all was a sense of peace—peace in knowing that I had chosen to follow a path that felt true to who I was becoming.

As we prepared to leave, I turned to Elias and Miriam, gratitude welling up in my chest. “Thank you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Miriam pulled me into a tight embrace, her voice choked with tears. “You’ve brought so much light into our lives, dear. Go and spread that light wherever you go.”

Elias placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. “We’ll miss you, but we know this is the right choice for you. Go with God, and know that you’ll always have a home here.”

With one last look at the place that had become my refuge, I turned and joined Jesus and His disciples as they began their journey. As we walked away from the familiar, my heart swelled with a sense of purpose, knowing that this was only the beginning of a new chapter in my life—one that would be filled with challenges, growth, and the possibility of making a difference in the world. The road ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, I felt ready to face it. Whatever lay before me, I knew I wouldn’t be facing it alone.

[drabbles-mc]

Once in Twenty Lifetimes

Takeshi Kovacs x Kristin Ortega

Written for the 2024 Candy Hearts Exchange!

Warnings: 18+, language, smoking/alcohol, light angst, slight steam

Summary: She had spent so much of her life making sure that she blended in, and she'd been successful at it the way she'd been taught. Now, though, it was all going to hang in the balance when the one other person left that knew who she really was, was getting spun back up. And of course he was getting spun up into the sleeve of her partner. (Envoy!Kristin AU)

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: i sat down thinking i was just gonna write a little something something for this au idea as a treat for the exchange but then i got super into it and fuckin carried away lmao. oh well! i had a good time! 😂

Altered Carbon Taglist: @garbinge @destinedtobeloved @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“Takeshi Kovacs. Look me up,” he offered the statement to her with a smirk. It didn’t quite pass for charming, per se, although it probably wasn’t his intention anyway. From what she remembered, which was everything of their stint running parallel to each other thanks to Envoy’s total recall, that hadn’t ever really been his strong suit.

Plus she wasn’t in any mood to be charmed in that moment.

There were a million and one reasons that she shouldn’t have gone to seek him out. There were endless layers to the problems it could potentially cause. Bancroft selling out Ryker’s sleeve like a hand-me-down from an older sibling was bad enough, but putting Takeshi Kovacs into it? It brought the situation out of the realm of infuriating and into one of being unbelievable. Bancroft wheeling and dealing Ryker’s suit was a personal vendetta. Tak’s stack being put into it felt like a cosmic one. He should’ve been dead by now anyway. Same way she should’ve been, but a lot goes on in two hundred and fifty years, and clearly real death didn’t want anything to do with either of them just yet.

He said it, though. He confirmed it. She’d heard the rumors beforehand and there was an intuitive twist in her gut that told her there was some substance to them, but she didn’t want to believe it. He was looking her in the eyes and telling her his name and she still didn’t want to believe it.

“You can’t be who you say you are,” she said, partially to keep playing her assigned role but partially because she simply didn’t want to believe that it was really him. “All the Envoys died.” A lie. One that she would be living proof of even if Tak wasn’t.

“All except one,” he retorted easily.

Asshole. Another thing about him that had apparently stayed consistent across the centuries. What was it that he said to her back then? Every sleeve, every time? He wasn’t wrong about that at least. He was wrong about everything else, though. All except one? He’d been out of storage for five minutes and already felt comfortable making sweeping, definitive statements like that. Sleeve-jumping was a skillset they’d all developed, but still. That was a long time to stay down. And to turn up on a planet you’d never been to before? All that and over two centuries down and maybe she would’ve come off ice making the same grave mistakes. Maybe she could make his work in her favor. She just had to make sure that she could keep Takeshi and Elias separate.

She was so busy thinking about all of that, memories going in a relentless playback against the inside of her skull, that she almost didn’t realize that she was still talking with Miriam Bancroft. That part of her was on auto-pilot, or at least it was until she had to get herself the fuck out of there before she landed herself in even deeper hot water.

“Yeah, there’s your kid, there’s your car, and there’s your…” she thought on it for a moment, trying to pick something that felt honest to her feelings in the moment but would still feel like something Police Officer Kristin Ortega would say, not the woman she was back when Takeshi really knew her, “new pet terrorist. You’re welcome,” she added, mostly for good measure, but it also felt good to say it.

“The terrorist can hear you,” he spoke, just barely turning his head to follow her as she continued to walk, but not committing enough to the act to turn his whole body. “I’m standing right here.”

“Yeah, good,” she stared up at him, waiting for him to meet her eyeline, “’cause we’re not done, you and me.”

There was a moment when he was looking down into her eyes that she thought maybe he saw it. Maybe he saw the flicker of the person that he knew once, the person that she was back then. Dozens of sleeves ago but it was still her in most of the ways that mattered. Most, not all. He looked back and forth between her eyes and she waited to see recognition flicker in them. He’d always had that edge to him, after all. It got drilled into all of them during their training but there was something about the way that Takeshi was wired before he even became part of the Envoy core that made him take to it faster and better than most. She envied him for it back then, but maybe now they were more on the same playing field. Or they would be until he got his full footing.

Everyone thought they knew why it bothered her, but still they asked. They were probably hoping for some other nuggets of information, more vitriol about Bancroft and the rest of the meths maybe since she had such an outspoken issue with the lot of them. The rest of the precinct saw her anger and they assumed that it was all because of Ryker. Like she was a woman so simple as that. Elias was part of her frustration with this scenario of course, but the puzzle was so much more complicated than that. It was difficult in ways that she simply couldn’t risk trying to explain to any of them. All of the reasons that she feared Tak and the potential fall-out of him being taken off-stack, were all the same reasons that the rest of the precinct would no longer trust her if they found out the truth about her past.

She’d been born at just the right time, in her opinion. Born late enough to reap all the benefits of a stack, but early enough so that she could manipulate it easily to her benefit when she had needed to most. Data infiltration and manipulation was still easy when you knew the right people and had the right tools, but back then it had been so much easier. It also didn’t hurt that Envoys learned to be on the cusp of it all anyway. All of that was why she was able to wipe her entire past off the record, rewrite it the way that she had wanted to. She created someone who was just enough of a force that she wouldn’t have to water herself down too much, but it was dialed back enough to not get her put on a fucking watchlist. Or even worse, get her thrown into storage off the principle off it. They were all supposed to be masters of disguise, and it had served her well in the aftermath.

She sat in the precinct trying to play over every possible scenario in her head. She wanted to be able to see every possible outcome. If the two of them spent enough time running circles around each other, he was bound to figure it out, right? Figure her out? Eventually the fog would dissipate and he would see her. He’d see past the sleeve. There was no certainty for her in what she thought his reaction to it was going to be if and when that happened. Maybe she could get him thrown back in storage before she had to worry about it. Get Ryker back in his own sleeve. He was so much less of a problem on that front—all that time spent being partners and he still hadn’t even skated close to the chasm of truths that separated them. She hoped it stayed that way—it kept life simpler for the both of them.

Although if Takeshi got his sleeve torn to shreds in the midst of whatever this new deal with Bancroft was, she supposed that none of it would really matter for Elias anyway. What a mess.

She wasn’t surprised, to say the least, when she found him later, strung out and stumbling through the streets. It seemed pretty on-par for Tak—that specific brand of recklessness. For so many years she watched him equate the word Envoy with invincible even though they all knew that it wasn’t the case. It didn’t help that he wasn’t exactly known for his drive for self-preservation. Regardless, the drugs fell in alignment with the Tak she once knew, and she also knew that Ryker’s sleeve would soak them up like a sponge put into a pot of water. A disaster of a marriage.

“Bancroft spent all that money on a nice sleeve for you, and this is what you’re doing with it?” she asked sarcastically as she walked up behind him.

He turned around to face her, a stumble in his step that he was too far gone to even try and hide. “Didn’t think you’d give a fuck about me wasting Bancroft’s money.” He paused, eyes narrowing as his delayed processing caught up with the situation. “You’re following me.”

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “That’s what police do to psycho-terrorists.”

“Come on, you cannot call me that.”

He was stoned out of his mind on, well, it could’ve been just about anything. Or a combination of things. The longer that Kristin looked at him, the more she was certain that she could throw a dart at a board and it would probably land on something that he’d ingested since the last time she saw him. That wasn’t the point. The point was that he was stoned out of his mind and the reason that he was telling her that she couldn’t call him that was because he was being a petulant child, not because by calling him that she would be lumping herself into the exact same group. She knew that it wasn’t nearly that deep and yet she still found herself fighting the urge to flinch at the layers to the comment. Even if she hadn’t caught the physical reaction in time, she wondered if he would’ve even caught it with the state that he was in.

He wasn’t really paying her any mind as he tried to continue on his way. It was hard for him to come off as determined when he couldn’t think straight and he was in a place that he hadn’t ever been before. With each step she took to keep her stride with him, she was trying to separate out all the files in her head. She was trying to keep two neat piles, or even two messy piles if she was being honest with herself: one pile for Elias, and one pile for Takeshi.

She was just as much Envoy as Takeshi was—she could compartmentalize just fine for the most part. But it wasn’t often that she ran into the issue that she was currently facing, one that had so much overlap between sleeve and stack. She’d burned through so many sleeves back then, and continued to go through them albeit at a much slower rate even when she got out of the core. She’d watched others do it too, Envoys and civilians alike. But this wasn’t just putting someone’s stack into a new sleeve and needing to adjust to the new face. This was a face that she knew, the stack that belonged to it still fully intact somewhere in storage, and someone completely different occupying the real estate in the meantime. Someone else that she knew. And it wasn’t as though either of the men who made up the Venn diagram in her head were known for being uncomplicated individuals on their own let alone when they were tethered to each other.

She tried to toe the line with him, anything to get more information out of him. The pendulum swung back and forth between banter and sniping comments. It wasn’t as though either of them had any lasting impact on him. The comments rolled right off—either because of the drugs or the Envoy conditioning, she wasn’t sure.

“What was the other one?” she asked rhetorically as she downed her drink. “Oh, yeah. Icepick. I liked that one.”

“Yeah, that was a good one.” He looked over at her, a hoodedness to his eyes that would’ve almost come off as flirtatious if he’d been sober. “You should call me Icepick.”

She rolled her eyes, using it as a tactic to avert her gaze. “I never called you that,” she muttered, half under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as if to get a better look at her.

She looked him square in the eyes. “I said I’m not fucking calling you that.” She said it with enough conviction to sell it.

Another smirk, paired with hazy, drug-addled eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

The more that they fired back and forth, the more she wondered if it was possible that she had really changed that much. Apparent assimilation was supposed to be one of the key tools in their toolbox as Envoys, sure. But it was also hard to believe that she had done it so effectively that she was flying completely under Takeshi’s radar. It wasn’t humility—that was never her strong suit the way that charm hadn’t ever been Tak’s. It just didn’t seem to fit. There were so many things that seemed off about the entire situation, but she couldn’t quite name them no matter how much information she tried to pull out of Takeshi about Bancroft, about anything he was willing to give her.

Then there was a sharp sting in the back of her mind as the thought reared its ugly head. He should remember me. Her face scrunched, action unmitigated as she tried to beat the impending spiral of thoughts into submission—she couldn’t afford to lose herself to that right now.

He was already up and making his way towards the door. “I’m going back to my hotel.”

His voice snapped her back to attention. Shooting up out of her seat, she followed him. “You can’t really be staying in that fucking AI hotel.” She shook her head. “They’re like crazy ex-girlfriends, you know.”

He looked down at her as he adjusted the backpack on his shoulder. There was a smirk on his face, one that seemed slightly more intentional this time. “You know a lot about crazy ex-girlfriends, Ortega?”

She scoffed. “Probably not as much as you but—”

He cut her off, a shift in his tone, a seriousness that she could pick up on. “Give it a rest.”

She followed him clean out the door onto the sidewalk, trying not to let herself get discouraged by him ignoring her attempts to walk alongside him or, ideally, get in front of him to stop him. “Kovacs!” she called after him.

Without turning around, he waved at her over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, Officer Ortega.”

She huffed, allowing herself to stop. She whispered loudly to no one other than herself, “Fuck me.”

Takeshi didn’t hide the surprise on his face when she showed up to the hotel later before anyone else in the police department managed to get there. He didn’t get the feeling that she had just been lurking outside the door. If that had been the case, the scenario wouldn’t have played out the way it did, gotten as out of hand as it did. Or maybe it would have—he had no idea how she operated. But she strode in confidently, despite the worry and frustration on her face. She looked around and took in the state of the mess and Takeshi had no choice but to sit there and watch her do so.

“Couldn’t even make it twenty-four hours out of storage without killing someone?” she asked as she walked over to him, gun still clutched tightly in her hand even though it was pointed at the floor.

Poe tried to intervene on Takeshi’s behalf. “If it weren’t for—”

He didn’t want anyone coming to his defense, even when he could do with a little bit of assistance. “Waiting down the block for this to happen?”

She shook her head at him, finally holstering her gun once she was standing in front of him. “Might as well have been.” She looked around the destroyed lobby once more. “Had a feeling trouble was going to follow you.”

“Any trouble that would be following me,” he paused briefly as the red and blue lights of other responding police vehicles started to filter through the front windows and door of the hotel, “should’ve stopped being trouble a few centuries ago.”

She reached out and turned his face to get a better look at the damage, not hesitating to touch him, fingertips still drawn to his chin and cheek like it was still Ryker knocking around inside that sleeve. The tension that resulted from her touch, the momentary fighting against it, reminded her that it wasn’t, but it was too late to take it back.

“Seems like you might be enough of an asshole for it to follow you around for a couple hundred years, Kovacs.”

He grunted, pulling away from her touch, hating the way his sleeve wanted to lean into it despite how badly he was trying to recoil away. “Maybe.”

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck this was all about?”

“Thought you just told me,” he said, rising to his feet so he was towering over her once more.

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Can’t help it. Every sleeve, every—”

“Every time, yeah. Your consistency is admirable,” she snapped.

His eyes narrowed, chin dipping down so that he could study her face. “What—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his question. The other police officers came storming into the building, guns at the ready despite the fact that there was no more commotion coming out of the hotel. After all, it wasn’t as though there were other guests that were being disturbed. Once they all started taking stock of the situation, their guns disappeared back into their holsters as well. A few of them started peppering Takeshi with questions, although they didn’t seem as enraged about it all as Kristin had been. They stole his attention just long enough for Kristin to glean what she thought she needed from the scene and slip out without him noticing or being able to stop her.

Not only were Tak’s plans for the night effectively ruined by the men who stormed the hotel with every intention to kill him, now he also had Kristin’s words rattling around the inside of his skull like pinballs. She finished his sentence with no hesitation and what was bothering him the most was that he couldn’t say with absolute certainty if he said something while he was high out of his mind or not. He must’ve. There was no other way she would’ve known, no other reason. Or, at least, there would’ve been no other reason that felt at all feasible. The thought crossed his mind, but, no, there was no way that was possible. He’d had too many things happen to him too quickly after getting spun up again, that was all. Morning would come around and he’d had a perfectly good reason for all of it, one that didn’t make him feel insane.

The next time he saw her, she had the same air of confidence about her that she always did. He kept his expression neutral, not wanting her to know that he’d been turning her words over in his head ever since she’d spoken them. He tried to come off as impassive but he could feel the anticipation tightening in his chest, questions that he couldn’t ask and answers that he was in no position to get. He managed to keep his curiosity tamped down until he was dismissed by Bancroft’s lawyer, another situation that had more questions than answers.

He trailed Kristin out, taking no time at all to catch up to her. He was walking alongside her but he wasn’t looking at her. “Gonna need a couple minutes of your time, Lieutenant.”

She forced herself not to look at him either. “As much as I would love to give you a couple minutes of my time, Kovacs, I need to keep looking into who tried to kill you. You know, the thing that you asked me to do about two fucking minutes ago.”

He grabbed the side of her arm and pushed her into the next alleyway that they came across. She started to protest until she felt her back hit the brick wall behind her. He purposely invaded her space, bodies close but not quite touching. He looked down at her, not letting the anger in her eyes unnerve him.

She glared up at him. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

“Who are you?” he asked, voice low.

“What?”

“Who—”

“I fucking heard you.” She pushed him away and he gave in, not that she pushed with that much force but he figured maybe it would help get some answers. “You know who I am, Kovacs.”

 “No, I don’t. But you seem to know an awful fucking lot about who I am.”

She could see it in his eyes that he was skirting dangerously close to the truth. He would’ve already gotten there if he hadn’t allowed himself to put up a barrier of thinking that there was such a thing as an impossible outcome. Apparently being on ice for a couple centuries dulled the don’t expect anything so that you’re prepared for everything part of their training. Too bad Quell wasn’t around to chastise him for it—he’d undoubtedly enjoy it a lot more coming from her.

“That’s because it’s my fucking job.” She side-stepped, glad that he didn’t make any move to stop her. “Which, I’m trying to go do so that maybe you won’t have another group of mercenaries coming after you.”

“Not gonna keep following me around just in case?” He followed her. “What if—”

“Just call the precinct like everyone else in Bay City,” she told him dismissively.

“Right,” he replied with a chuckle.

Even though he couldn’t see the annoyed look on her face, Kristin was certain that he knew it’s how she looked anyway. “You work your case, if that’s what you want to call it. And I’ll work mine.”

She felt the distance between them growing as he stopped but she kept walking on. He called after her, a smart remark about seeing her soon. He was right, of course. Until they put Takeshi back in storage there was no way that she was going to be able to just keep avoiding him, not with Ryker’s sleeve on the line.

While she knew that there was no getting out of seeing him again, she certainly didn’t expect to see him before the day was out. She definitely didn’t expect him to show up at her apartment door, banging on the dense metal of it like he was a cop with a warrant.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Kovacs?” she asked, too tired to even sound properly annoyed.

“Found out some interesting news today,” he said, brushing past her and into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. He strode down the stairs, taking stock of the place as he went. “Some things that made the picture a whole lot fucking clearer on who you are and what the fuck you’ve been doing.”

Her blood ran cold for a moment. She went down the stairs slower than necessary, thinking maybe it was going to buy her some time. Tak was standing in the middle of the kitchen, palms flat against the top of the island as he leaned against it. His eyes kept darting around the room, taking as much of it in as possible, but they always came back to Kristin.

“I knew it,” he said with a shake of his head once she finally crossed the threshold into the kitchen. “I knew there had to be a reason you were so interested in all of this. And I was right.”

“Were you?” she asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could.

“Yeah.” He let himself return to a fully upright position, taking the few small steps to collapse the distance between them. He stared down at her. “When were you gonna tell me that they spun me up into your boyfriend?”

“Ryker is not my boyf—”

“What the fuck, Ortega?”

“What would it have mattered, hm? What would it have changed?”

“Well it would sure fuckin’ explain why so many extra people have it out for me. Can’t imagine cops with records like Ryker’s are exactly known for having a lot of friends.”

“Like I said,” she grit out, “it didn’t matter—wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t have cared about an Envoy running loose in your city if he wasn’t running around wearing your partner.”

He still hadn’t put those pieces of the puzzle together. Maybe finding out who his sleeve was, the relationship to her, maybe all of that was enough to sate his curiosity about why she was so invested in him. And sure, that was definitely a large part of it. The other part of it was going to make itself reckoned with sooner rather than later—Kristin could feel it deep in her gut. She could chalk it up to Envoy intuition but really at that point it was just common sense.

She paused those thoughts when remembered that she was in the middle of an argument. “That’s not true.”

“Wouldn’t be a priority of yours, though.”

“You don’t know that.”

He retreated farther back into the kitchen, rooting around to get his hands on something, anything that had alcohol in it. “So, what’s Ryker’s deal?” he asked, his head practically shoved into her fridge. “What makes him so special that you’ll run around the city to—”

“He’s my partner,” she said sharply. “It’s what you do for your partner.” She stepped so that she could lean back against the island. “Not that I’d expect you to understand that.”

“Why’s that?” he asked when he found a bottle of clear liquor on the counter. He opened it while he waited for her to answer, pulling a face when he wafted the scent of the alcohol. It’d still do the trick.

She couldn’t give her honest answer, one born from information about the people they were before. She watched him helplessly look through cupboards in an attempt to find a glass. She could’ve made it easier but she was getting a mildly twisted joy out of watching him go through the small struggle. “Being worried for someone else doesn’t seem like it’s your strong suit. Envoy compartmentalization, right?”

He finally found a glass, setting it down on the countertop with a surprising amount of care considering how tired and annoyed he was. He didn’t say anything as he proceeded to pour a hefty serving into it. Bringing the glass to his lips, he downed almost all of it in one go before setting the glass back down with a clatter, a scant amount of liquor still swirling at the bottom.

He let out a sharp exhale as the lingering burn from the alcohol in his throat subsided. “You don’t know anything.”

She wished she knew how to tell him just how wrong he was. Since she didn’t know just how to do that, she settled for, “You’re not as special as you think.”

He finished off what little was left in his glass, leaving it empty on the counter beside the bottle as he went back so that he was standing next to her. She was leaning with her back pressed against the island but he came and stood so that he was facing it again. Instead of placing his hands on top of it, he leaned so that his forearms rested there instead. He clasped his hands, staring at them instead of the countertop as he felt Kristin’s eyes studying him.

“Bet you didn’t talk like that to Ryker.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not him, so I guess it doesn’t matter, right?”

He turned and looked at her. “Make it sound like it’s so easy to separate it out.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t say that.”

“Right.”

Despite the instinctive urge to make another snarky comment, he stayed silent. He unclasped his hands, letting his fingertips drum against the smooth surface of the island. It wasn’t a habit that was his own, just the sleeve’s reaction to nicotine withdrawal. He never personally cared for smoking, and if he thought that his stint in this sleeve was going to be a long-term one he would’ve thought about putting in the effort to quit. That just seemed like too much work for too little payoff at the moment.

Kristin heard the familiar tapping of his fingers before she turned to see it. She hated that Elias smoked, always chided him about it. And she knew that Tak’s draw to the nicotine was because of the sleeve, not because of any intrinsic desire. Because of that she was perfectly aware of the fact that she shouldn’t encourage him, but it almost felt like a freebie given the circumstances. She wouldn’t have to tell Elias—he’d never know if she didn’t say anything.

Without a word, she pulled a pack of cigarettes from the back of the top drawer of the island. Elias didn’t think she knew about it, not that it was any great hiding spot.

Takeshi looked quizzically back and forth between her and the pack of smokes. From the second he got spun up all she and everyone else had been doing was chastising him for smoking. It felt like a trick.

She gave the pack a slight shake. “If it’s offered, take it,” she said passively.

His eyes narrowed instantly, his entire body tensing. “What?”

“Take it,” she repeated, “before I change my mind.”

She watched the conflict on his face and chose not to say anything. If he had a question he could ask it, if he had a thought he could share it. But she was done trying to pull information out of him—Tak and Ryker. He was the one who showed up on her doorstep, after all.

“So when you said that I knew you,” he said as he reached and took the pack from her, fingers curling around it and the lighter pinned to the back of it, “you meant that the guy riding my sleeve before me knew you. That any reaction, pull or push, I felt about you had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Ryker.”

She watched him put a cigarette between his lips and spark it to life. She raised her eyebrows, partially because she was surprised by how much she enjoyed watching him do it, but also because she was surprised at how much work he was putting into finding the wrong answer.

Finally, she shrugged when his gaze landed back on her. She watched the smoke curl out from between his lips. “Something like that.”

“What was he like?”

Kristin ignored how he referred to Ryker in the past tense as she chuckled, wondering if he really had any interest in Elias at all or if he just wanted to try and glean something more about her by watching how she spoke about him. Regardless, she decided that she would indulge him in the smallest way possible. “You two would hate each other.” She knew what the follow-up question was going to be so she answered it before he could really ask. “You have the wrong things in common.”

He had an urge to try and get her to elaborate, but he stopped himself. Tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette, he tried to figure out what it was exactly that he really wanted to say to her. He could feel the energy rolling off her in waves. It wasn’t tension, not in the traditional sense. He could feel that there were layers of depth that he hadn’t worked his way into. She was keeping him out. He was stopping himself. He wondered how much of the blame could be put on her, how much of it on him, and how much of it was simply old sleeve memory complicating things for him.

“You must’ve really pissed off Bancroft to get him to do this,” he finally said, gesturing to himself with the hand that was holding the cigarette.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Suddenly the empty glass and nearly full bottle of liquor were looking much more inviting than they had been. “You don’t have a monopoly on pissing people off, Kovacs.”

“Stiff competition,” the rebuttal rolled off his tongue easily before he pulled another drag off his smoke.

“Enough years doing anything and you become a professional, right?”

“How many years is that?” he asked outright, forgoing subtlety because there didn’t seem to be much point to it anymore.

She looked over at him. “Enough.”

“Ortega…” he started and then trailed off. He was scratching at the walls of the truth, could hear it rattling around on the other side. He ground out the butt of his cigarette, funneling his frustration into the action before letting it drop from his fingertips.

“Takeshi.” It was only when she said his full name that she realized how long it’d been since she called him that. Using it to talk about him when he wasn’t around was much different than using it while talking to him. Centuries had passed since the last time she used it so casually with him.

He read it all over her face, too. He could see the way that it felt foreign and familiar all at once. It sounded familiar, too. There was something in the tones of the word, undercurrents in his own name that he recognized even if the voice was different. He stared at her intently, head tilting slightly in thought as he tried to look past what he could physically see. He heard her voice from the alley. “You know who I am.”

His eyes widened just slightly as the realization finally began to crash over him. When he spoke again, there was a certainty to his tone that hadn’t been there before. “Kristin.”

She’d been doing nothing but agonizing over what would happen when he realized who she really was, but now that she could see that he had, all she felt was relief. Her shoulders dropped with the lessening of the weight on them.

“That took you a little too long.” She peeled herself away from him, crossing to the counter where Takeshi had left his glass. She refilled it and drank from it herself. “Still got tunnel vision.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” His voice was tight, but there was still a lingering sense of bewilderment to it.

“Well for one thing I didn’t think it was going to take you so fucking long to figure it out.” She poured more liquor into the glass. She let out a quick, quiet wince as the liquor burned down her throat again. “They don’t know.”

He didn’t need to ask her who they were, or what exactly it was they didn’t know. His time off-stack might have been limited this time around but he knew the danger that being known as an Envoy would put her in. “None of them?”

She shook her head, contemplating a third pour. “None of them.”

“Not even—”

“I said none of them.” The relief was starting to disappear, dread slowly starting to take its place, and she poured herself a third helping to cope.

“You think I’ll say something.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think that there are very few things that you have ever cared about, Tak. I know that Bancroft definitely isn’t on that fucking shortlist.” She paused. “I know that I’m not either—never was.”

She looked over at him and she saw the way that there was a flicker of hope in his eyes when she said that last part. He knew she was right, that even back then she was never someone he paid much mind to. His concern had always been Reileen, and then Quell. Apparently a couple hundred years on ice hadn’t dulled his devotion to the latter. Kristin had a feeling that she knew what he wanted to ask, but she was content to make him actually say it.

To her surprise, he didn’t ask anything. “You haven’t heard anything,” he stated.

She shook her head. “No. But I’ve never gone looking.” She could feel the tension in the room thicken at that. “It was a miracle that I made it out. I wasn’t going to waste that by—”

“It wouldn’t have been a waste.”

“Not to you,” she snapped. “You were Quell’s favorite—of fucking course you would’ve gone looking for her. I was just another Envoy. Dispensable. Part of what was offered.” She sighed, forcing herself not to pour another drink. “I managed to survive so I did what we do best. I blended in.”

“Kristin Ortega,” he said her name in its totality, exploring each letter of it with fresh eyes and ears now that he knew who she was.

“Not a far cry from before, no?”

He shook his head. “No.” There were so many things that he could have, and probably should have, asked her, but in that moment he didn’t care about any of it. He easily collapsed the distance so that he was beside her again. He looked at the way her hands were wrapped tightly around the edge of the counter. He copied her position, only his grip wasn’t vice-like the way that hers was. Their pinkies nearly touched. “If we’d been better friends back then, would you have said something?”

That got a scoff out of her that dissolved into a laugh. “There’s no lifetime where the two of us are friends, Kovacs.”

“Not even in this sleeve?” It was teasing, but not cruel.

She turned her head, still having to look up slightly to meet his eyes even though he was leaning onto the counter. “The sleeve was never the problem.”

“This is probably my best shot though, right?”

She smiled and it was genuine even through the exhaustion. Maybe all the liquor was catching up to her. “Probably.”

Neither of them moved. In the thick silence of the apartment, they could each hear the other breathing. They knew enough to know where it could so easily go. It wouldn’t be anywhere good, at least not long-term. But what did long-term even mean for them anymore? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. There was that unspoken mutual understanding, after all, that they were each looking for someone in the other that they weren’t ever going to find. He might’ve been wearing his sleeve but Takeshi was never going to be Elias. And Kristin might’ve lived through the same hardships and lived to tell the tale, she might’ve known the history and the fight, but she wasn’t ever going to be Quell. They looked at each other and saw the truth, but they were both still pining after delusions.

Tak’s hand moved a fraction of an inch, the movement smooth as it caused his hand to brush against hers. She let out a short breath and he could smell the alcohol on it. Her lips parted slightly, like she was going to say something. Maybe she was going to say it was a bad idea, maybe she was going to send him home. Whatever she had been planning to say, he saw it in real time as it fell by the wayside.

She pulled her hand away from his only to reach and place it on the back of his head instead, pulling him closer. His body moved of its own accord. Some of it was just the natural motions of things, but there was also the familiarity of his sleeve and hers, chemical reactions that were innate that he had no control over. For a moment he fought it on the principle of it all, but then he felt the hunger in her, every movement of her lips and tongue against his a taunt to get him to reciprocate in kind.

So he did, grabbing her and placing her up on the counter with ease. She looped her legs around his waist as his grip tightened on her sides. He leaned into her, bodies pressed as tightly together as they could be with the barrier of their clothes still between them. If he wanted to, he could chalk his eagerness up to too many years on ice, an abundance of hormones in a sleeve that had been in the tank, body mechanics operating outside of his control. He could’ve said any and all of those things and none of them would’ve been a lie, per se. But as his hand slid towards the button of her jeans, he knew that the full truth was much, much simpler than that—they were both just taking what was offered.

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

Just some friends going on an adventure :)

[destinedtobeloved]

Now that I’ve finished Altered Carbon, I think it would be fun to share one of my notes from my notes app that I’ve been writing on since I’ve started it. I’ve cried a lot about this book, and everything I’ve ever left behind has claw marks.

This book definitely has claw marks.

It includes all of my favorite moments and parts of the book down below :)

Things I love about book Kovacs

- he’s trying to quit smoking

- His hallucinations are of Jimmy and Virginia Vadura

- Him and Ortega don’t actually hate eachother that much in the beginning

- At first Takeshi doesn’t actually hate Bancroft either

- He’s genuinely confused about earth terms

- He was mad that at the Wei clinic they didn’t give him back his watch or his bandana, simply because he just bought it and he’d liked the watch

- He likes shopping

- He likes fruit juice???

- Gaslit Umou into being late to Psychasec because he needed to eat breakfast

- He deals with hangovers like a champ

- Started smoking in the construct once he remembered it had no real consequences in the real

- Understands female complexity/differences between male and female

- Knows how to handle gentle situations most of the time (victor talking about his daughter, Kristen talking about Ryker.)

- Quotes poetry from Quell

- Also enjoys poetry (ex; the carving on the bench at the faculty when he’s waiting for the doctor.)

- Slept for twenty hours after the Wei clinic??

- His emotion (though i do miss the scene where he’s drugged up outside of the raven talking to Quell. ‘250 years is long enough. It’s time to move on.’ ‘Never. You hear me? Never.’)

- His love for Sarah

- His attempts at smiling

- His explanation of personality frag!!!!

- Chapter 20 as a whole is so amazing (talking about Ryker- him and Curtis, bla bla bla, mostly just Elias and Kristen stuff.)

- Ramen just awakens something in him

- Actually very good at telling children’s stories to Ortega (like a dad.)

- Good at cracking jokes

- His interaction with the little girl in the second page of chapter 25???!?? (He shoots her with a little finger gun when he realizes she’s looking at him expectantly after seeing his weapon.)

- After the whole blown up building Kadmni thing (‘that’s fucking enough!’) he smokes because he just decides it’s not worth it

- Him and Trepp playing card games on the airship that Trepp had taught him

- He literally reaches for his Nemex every three seconds istg

- Remaining ‘innocent at the core’ -reileen

- Apparently having a very deep very drugged convo about cats in chapter 26

- Kovacs is a MUNCH

- Repeats the same Virginia Vidora quote over again. ‘We take what is offered. And sometimes, that must be enough.’

- Reileen always starting off her talks with him in Japanese because she thinks it unites them in a way

- Had to stop himself from calling reileen ray

- He actually DOES genuinely smile (ex; when Irene is exited about the limo)

- ‘I’m a sucker for family reunions.’ HE ACTUALLY DOES CARE (maybe it’s because him and Sarah never got to have one after he was taken out of the store.)

- Sleeping in the car (limo) so Irene can get laid

- The guilt/itchiness he has after relapsing into smoking

- Him and Trepp are actually friends and she insists that they go party, drink coffee, play card games together, ect.

- Considers trepp not getting into the envoys a ‘Lucky escape’

- Trepp n Kovacs playful teasing

- He missed Ortega when she left the Hendrix and didn’t come back. ‘I missed Ortega.’ Page 356

- Bancroft saying he’d been around for the RD’s of two of his children. (Going out of order back to the beginning)

- Doesn’t bullshit. Didn’t tell Irene it would pass when she was feeling hurt after being resleeved.

- It was nerve wracking to him to watch Irene code

- Reileen and Miriam slept together??

- Takeshis urge to be cruel

- Got anyoyed when Miller was tapping on the table and just flatted out his hand LMFAO

- When he heard he got a call he immediately asked if it was Ortega.

- Literally seconds before he’s about to get beat to death in the Panamrose he thinks about how bored he is

- Still, right before he about to die, he thinks about Ortega and calls her a ‘pocket of calm’

- He’s ready to die, not awfully upset about it because he knows Kristen has enough information to get Reileen and also because he knows Sarah will be released

- Trepp saves him in the Panama rose

- He talks to his dad mid fight after not hearing him forever. Before he killed Kadmin (calling him the ‘patchwork man’) he asks if he wants to say anything.

- He’s afraid to alter his virtual self because he thinks it’s not far away from what reileen and Bancroft do

- Sits on a forklift after the fight thinking. He’s weirdly soft.

- Claims that nothing hurt more then the realization that this would be his and Ortegas last moments together

- Held hands with her too

- Would’ve given anything to not have to dissolve what was growing between them.

- He loves her more in the book than he did in the show (and it’s making me sob.)

- He literally is arguing with himself when he is double sleeved

- He almost killed someone at 16 because he looked like his dad

- Also wanted to help the Elliot’s because of his family and his mom who was like Lizzy

- Absolutely does not want to talk about his past and his father/family

- Planning to get drunk because he doesn’t want to talk to himself sober

- Disappointed with his copy for smoking

- Takeshi fter the microsurgery is down at the lake with a little girl who seemed to ‘adopt him’

- He’s actually kind of heartbroken when him and Kristen’s relationship changes after he is resleeved.

- Makes his day that he can still make Ortega laugh before he convinces her to get him some stiff because he thought their dynamic was weird afterwards

- Before he and Reileen fall to their deaths he says, ‘When they ask how I died,' I said, 'tell them: still angry’ as well as ‘that’s fucking enough’

- Once his clone lost to rock paper scissors and was set to die, he asks if he wants him to tell Jimmy anything. I sobbed.

- Kept accidentally talking about Reileen in present terms after she died.

- He gave money to Irene once he’s about to leave for Lizzy. (‘I want there to be something clean at the end of all this, something I can feel good about.’)

- He held Irene after that.

- He attempts to laugh with Ortega before he goes

- His quote saying that no matter what you always leave alone. (‘Whatever world it is, whatever you've done there for better or worse, you always leave the same way. Alone.’)

- His last wishes are for Kristen to get Ryker to stop smoking once he’s out of the store

[alliluyevas]

for my beloved followers interested in mormon polygamy name discourse, i have compiled and presented a list of the children of four different 19th century mormon polygamist men, ranging from 30 to 66 children. I included middle names when I could find them and the children are listed in chronological order of their birth.

Brigham Young:

Elizabeth, Vilate, Joseph Angell, Brigham Jr., Mary Ann, Emma Alice, Luna Caroline, John Willard, Brigham Heber, Edward Partridge, Oscar Brigham, Hyrum, Joseph, Moroni, Mary Eliza, Ella Elizabeth, Alva, Alma, Fanny Decker, Emily Augusta, Marinda Hyde, Clarissa Maria, Jeanette Richards, Zina Presendia, Evelyn Louisa, Hyrum Smith, Caroline Partridge, Ernest Irving, Nabby Howe, Willard, Eudora Lovina, Mahonri Moriancumer, Emmeline Amanda, Shamira, Alfales, Brigham Morris, Phoebe Louisa, Jedediah Grant, Arta DeChrista, Joseph Don Carlos, Louisa Wells, Susa Amelia, Lorenzo Dow, Miriam, Albert Jeddie, Feramorz Little, Alonzo, Josephine, Clarissa Hamilton, Charlotte Tallula, Ruth, Phineas Howe, Lura, Daniel Wells, Rhoda Mabel, Adella, and Fanny van Cott

Heber Kimball: 

Judith Marvin, William Henry, Helen Mar, Roswell Heber, Heber Parley, David Patten, Adelbert, Charles Spaulding, Henry, Brigham Willard, Sarah Helen, David, Margaret Jane, Abraham Alonzo, Isaac, Solomon Farnham, Samuel Chase, David Orson, Prescinda Celestia, Murray Gould, David Heber, Joseph Smith, Augusta, Cornelia Christine, John Heber, William Gheen, Susannah, Samuel Heber, Joseph Smith, Harriet, Newel Whitney, Willard Heber, Jacob Reese, Jonathan Golden, Horace Heber, Rosalia, Albert Heber, Lydia Holmes, Jedediah Heber, Hyrum Heber, Enoch Heber, Peter, Daniel Heber, Ann Spaulding, Sarah Maria, Jeremiah Heber, Mary Melvina, Andrew, Alice Ann, Eliza, James Heber, Joshua Heber, Washington, Mary Margaret, Moroni Heber, Sarah Gheen, Joshua Heber, Eugene, Wilford Alfonzo, Franklin Heber, Lorenzo Heber, Abbie Sarah

Joseph F. Smith:

Mercy Josephine, Sarah Ellen, Mary Sophronia, Leonora, Hyrum Mack, Donette, Joseph Richards, Alvin Fielding, Heber John, Joseph Fielding Jr., Alfred Jason, Rhoda Ann, David Asael, Edna Melissa, Minerva, Albert Jesse, George Carlos, Alice, Robert, Julina Clarissa, Willard Richards, Elias Wesley, John Schwartz, Franklin Richards, Emma, Emily Jane, Lucy Mack, Calvin Schwartz, Zina, Rachael, Jeanetta, Samuel Schwartz, Andrew Kimball, Ruth, Edith Eleanor, James Schwartz, Jesse Kimball, Asenath, Martha, Agnes, Silas Schwartz, Fielding Kimball, and Royal Grant

Parley Pratt:

Parley Parker Jr., Nathan, Olivia Thankful, Susan, Moroni Llewellyn, Alma, Helaman, Nephi, Julia Houston, Belinda Marden, Cornelia, Agatha, Abinadi, Lucy, Ether, Mormon, Mosiah, Malona, Lehi Lee, Henriette, Marian, Omner, Teancum, Mary Wood, Moroni Walker, Phoebe Soper, Isabella Eleanor, Sarah Elizabeth, Evelyn, Mathoni

also who had the best name taste and who had the worst

[dreamwritesimagines]

Re-reading Enomared anon here - I giggle thinking about how Anthony and Elias will be when their daughters are out. They both have experience but it will be different. Especially if one of them falls in love with Miriam's son. 🤣

Wait wait WAIT-

Oooh my God, Cherie's daughter falling for Miriam's son I just-

THIS IS GALAXY BRAIN! 😱❤️ Oh I love this idea so much darling! ❤️😍

[svampira]

🍋🍆🍟 per elias mwah un bacio

ask game

Miaooo green

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

His first memory being dying would take the number one spot but when it comes to what affects him the most then it's the whole mess with Imesh🤔 Basically after Imesh finds out Elias has befriended his wife (he literally shows up for dinner) he decides to finally do his job and kill him, so he stakes and restrains him but is unable to go through with it. Elias starts spiralling after he's let go, doesn't feed for a couple days and shows up at their house where he kills both Imesh and his wife Miriam, only to get his shit rocked by Imesh's* 14 year old daughter (he survives). Both Imesh's betrayal and him killing two people he cared about (while being mostly lucid, not frenzying) is something he can't emotionally deal with so he shoves it down completely, but it taints all of his relationships afterwards cause 1 it was the first time he'd ever been betrayed 2 it was his first time feeling any shade of guilt or remorse. After a year or two it stops hurting as much though, i feel like no matter how much he cares about someone in the moment he's still going to forget them relatively easily, and he goes through so mich shit in his first few years of unlife this first disaster starts feeling less and less meaningful as time goes on.

🍆: Does your OC have any favourite form of affection, physical or otherwise?

He likes biting people and drinking their blood^^ he's very touchy feely in general like constantly needing to have some physical contact going on whenever he's talking to someone. The biting was kind of a joke but also not😭 he genuinely sees it as a way of showing and being shown affection. How many blood bonds would he accidentally end up in. Many

🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

The thing about him is he genuinely doesn't feel any sort of self consciousness i dont think he'd ever be embarassed of liking something🤔 wahhh my mind is blanking here.