motw tomorrow. i want to bring back the posting era.

Finn’s Lost Loves

Summary: Finn’s lost more than anyone else knew because of the war, and every stupid thing his family have done afterwards to keep themselves in charge.

Word count: 2019

Warnings: Mentions war and blood, talks about eating disorder, self harm and self-esteem, and homophobia (only a little bit, period accurate), a lot of toxic masculinity 

Author’s note: This is a lot of angst with little bits of fluff and a sad ending. Sorry. It’s basically an overview of Finn’s character, backstory and his relationships with the family that we’ve never gotten to see! It’s based off a piece of prose in my drafts, so if you guys like this, I might post that as well. Hope you enjoy, and please comment, I love hearing your opinions and any constructive criticism you might have xx

Finn loved books. Once upon a time, he really did. He loved the way Tommy did the voices, and Arthur made those wild motions with his hands, and John could always make him laugh as he told him about that thing that happened in the pub last week. He loved how Ada and Polly would tuck him up in bed, place a kiss on his temple and read the letters from the boys. Then they came back, and he didn’t need to read letters. Or books. Or anything really. Soon, he didn’t even go to school. He just wanted to be with his brothers. Now they tell him to piss off more than they beg him to stay. Tommy and Polly scold him for not being able to read off the betting boards, and John makes everyone else laugh when he holds a big volume under Finn’s nose, so that everyone knew that Finn was still illiterate. Finn hates books.

Finn loved Church. He didn’t need Polly to drag him by the heels as he sobbed under the Virgin Mary’s stare like his brothers when he hopped, skipped and a jumped all his way down the road. He always sat by Isaiah, the two boys out-screaming each other in the hymns and seeing who Polly would scold first. He wore the crucifix everyday, and treated his rosary with all the sacred carefulness a six year old could manage. He loved the psalms and Jeremiah’s voice ringing through the streets and the way everyone was always together (even Charlie) on Sunday. Then he had to light candles, praying for his brothers’ safety that was only answered with their damnation as they dragged back blood and French mud into Watery Lane. Now he cries through the paper thin pages of a Bible and his only prayers are that the boys never see his tears. What did he have to cry about after all? He was never a soldier, but he should learn to be a man. Finn hates Church.

Finn loved healing. Ada dragged him along to her nursing classes and soon his only reason to come to Church was to learn how to tie bandages and fix up cuts and bruises. No one noticed his long absences- they either assumed he went to school still, or they were far too busy with the race tracks to care for the whereabouts of their youngest brother. But then he'd slipped up, and he'd never seen his brothers laugh so hard when he proudly told Polly he was going to be a nurse one day. Even his aunt and sister, usually the ones on his side, had to purse their lips together as Arthur roared out: "Hear that, Tom? We got ourselves a Nurse Shelby here! Want a dress and hat to go with it?" He told them all to fuck off and stamped out, but he didn't understand what he said that was so funny. When he asked Isaiah, who had just turned fourteen and starting to see Finn less and less, he just said that being a nurse was a woman's job. He didn't like being laughed at for being a girl, but he didn't know why. He still hoarded textbooks about anatomy and the like under his bed, tracing over the detailed pictures with his skeleton finger as he wished. And wished. And wished. And almost prayed that he could read the little ink words. When he found Arthur with another red line on his neck, he offered him some medicine to cure his big brother's blues, thinking just a bit of Tokyo would keep his brother here with him. No one asked why Finn was sad. Oh well, at least he could protect his brothers now. Finn hates healing. Finn loved food. Always the big eater in the Shelby household, he managed to always have a full stomach despite the poverty that reigned. He was a stickler for sweets, though, and as soon as he mastered the art of sneaking rings and wallets from unsuspecting strangers, he soon graduated to thieving lollipops and boiled sweets and even some toffees that he proudly deposited into his aunt's hand with a toothy grin. But the boys would look into his empty plate and his skinny frame and tell him he'd better watch out, soon he might actually have a shape under those bulky clothes. They always laughed, and he felt himself completely embarrassed at the dinner table. He dumped more sugar than milk into his tea and stole chips when they went to the seaside. He'd always offer to share, wanting to provide for them for once, but they'd tell him he was the one who needed it. He sees his ribs and the little vertebrae of his spine and wonders why can't he just be strong like his brothers. Even though he despises it, he picks up boxing to fill out his form. Maybe training with Isaiah was an extra benefit, but the older boy had long since talked to Finn on the regular, and made a point to laugh at him when he fell onto the floor. So, Finn graduated from second helpings of lunch and too-sweet tea to the sour delights of whiskey and cigarettes. Just like his brothers. Finn hates food. Finn loves his family. He loves Polly, the mother he never had, and will never feel like he does enough to repay her for his entire childhood. Then Michael came back, and soon there wasn't any chore lists on the downstairs table for someone to read out for him, or little check ups throughout the day as she makes sure he's okay. That was when he realised exactly why Polly raised him in her empty arms. He loves Arthur: his eldest brother, who used to lift him up on his shoulders and teach him to draw. Finn still has faded old pictures of galloping stallions (signed in block letters: A.W.S) slipped between the filled out pages of the sketchbooks he hides in his wardrobe. Then Arthur came back, with what everyone calls Flanders Blues, but no one explains, and Finn feels like he's losing his brother everyday when he comes back smelling like a brewery with blood on his fists. Finn loves Tommy. A father figure to him, the kind of man he wants to be when he grows up. But then Greta died and Tommy went to war, and the man who took him horse riding every weekend was gone, and this Tommy was colder. Finn loves John as the best friend he's ever had, always laughing together, giving sometimes useful advice and finding days to just spend time with each other. Despite John's bazillion kids, widowerhood, and then his new wife, he's always had time to spare for his little brother. John was the one who told him what bisexual was when he found Finn sobbing in his room, he was the one that took him to the doctor when he passed out from malnutrition, and he's the one that made him swear to never use razor blades on himself again. Finn loves Ada. He sees why Freddie calls her an angel, and used to love it when she pretended to take Finn to the library when in fact they were both slipping away to a Communist meeting, which would usually end up in Ada and Freddie slipping away and leaving Finn in the trusted supervision of leftist radicals that he happily chatted away to. Ada always took care of him, making sure he was never involved in the business (on either side) and telling him that being a soldier is a life sentence, not an honour. He lives because Ada keeps him safe and sane. Then Ada leaves. Finn hates the Shelby name that everyone screams at him like a condemnation, that invites slurs and hatred that only he gets because he doesn't look like a proper Shelby man. Finn hates his family. Finn loved Isaiah. A childhood crush that brought butterflies to his stomach and blushes to his freckled face. He sketched the boy's face so many times, he knew it by memory. They held hands when they were chased down the streets, laughing and sprinting as their spoils stayed securely in their pockets. But Isaiah was older than him. Soon after adolescence hit the Jesus boy and Peaky Blinders offered him a role, without the constant of Church, the two greatest of friends became almost strangers to one another. But Finn still loved him. He never told anyone, of course. He knew he wasn't a real homosexual, because he most certainly did enjoy holding hands and kissing the cheeks of girls his age (poor boy was flustered to ever do more!) but his heart still belonged to the preacher's boy. With more faithful women in the family than ever before, Finn knew he would be crucified if he ever told anyone. John was the only one who knew, and that was based on the fact he paid more attention to his brother than anyone else combined. He said he should just go for it, but Finn knew Isaiah couldn't be like him. And even if Jeremiah was always the kindest man that Finn ever met, he still didn't trust that the cross on his neck wouldn't shame him or laugh at him for the fact he was completely enamoured with his son. Then Finn got drunk, and when he woke up, his entire family knew exactly how he felt and Isaiah wouldn't look at him in the eye. He ran away to the stables, crying on Uncle Charlie's shoulder who told it would be alright. He made sure to keep an eye on Finn ever since, keeping an eye on his wrists and fists. The incident was soon forgot by everyone but him. Finn couldn't find it in him to hate Isaiah, but he knew he didn't love him any more. Finn has never loved Michael. He thought he could, at first, when he saw the tweed suit and a face more innocent than his. But then Tommy promoted him almost on the spot, and Finn had never at once felt so much rage bubble inside him. Everything he has done for his brothers, every passion he sacrificed, every humiliation he shouldered, just so they could see him as an equal. But no, there are only three Shelby brothers as far as anyone else is concerned, and Finn carries on as errand boy. He ignores all Ada's good advice, and swear that he will make his brothers proud of him one day. So, he puts on the thorn crown of a Peaky cap and wears the waistcoat and wool coat of his brother's likeness, and parades about Small Heath like he actually was apart of the makeshift royal family. Then Finn found Michael and Isaiah kissing in the alleyway. Even though Finn had made a point to announce that his brothers had started giving him more work, Isaiah still fucked off to the pub with Michael every night, devoting his time and attention to only him, and Finn couldn't understand why. Now he did. If Finn had been violent like Arthur, he certainly wouldn't have thought twice about taking the cup on his curls and cutting the smirk off of his cousin. He had stolen his brothers' respect, his surrogate mother's attention, his place in the business, the affections of the one boy Finn had ever loved. He had stolen Finn's everything, and Finn hated him. They both froze and stuttered. Excuses about just being friends, just experimenting, but he saw the way they held each others shaking hands just as he and Isaiah used to hold onto each other as they raced through the streets. "I'm glad you're together." He shocked them both with a forced smile. "You both deserve to be happy." The two were kinder to him after that, almost back to the old friendship he had missed, and Finn knew he didn't hate Michael. Or Isaiah. Or any of his family, really. No, Finn hated himself.

Okay so wrap up thoughts for ep. 4:

Where is Zemo? Do not let this man loose. Also bless marvel for releasing the longer cut of Zemo dancing earlier 🙏🏽

We love the Dora. However I wonder if the arm thing was a gag or if it’s going to come back. I could definitely see Buck having some questions and beginning to wonder whether they actually freed them or just put him under Wakanda’s control with a longer leash. He obviously has reason to be skeptical about people’s intention with him (see; how Zemo used him) I can definitely imagine them explaining that it was impossible to wipe out the WS controls but rather they just changed them and just never intended to use them, making him a sort of unintentional sleeper agent White Wolf for Wakanda. He is clearly very thankful and grateful to them, and is very close to the Dora, especially Ayo, so I could see that distrust being a good future character arc. But I stand by that with T’Challa in charge they would never seek to take advantage of Buck in that way. Also I was never a HUGE fan of Stan’s acting, I felt he got too hyped up for just brooding, like he was good but not Oscar worthy as some on here tried to say (you can just say you think he’s hot, you don’t have to lie about his acting to justify your adoration of him and watching his whole filmography, it’s okay I promise), but that scene at the beginning was actually amazing. I love the change between fear to relief and realization. Chef’s kiss.

As I mentioned several times, I love that this show is carefully exploring warring ideals, and actually saying them pretty plainly. It’s giving me what Civil War could’ve been. In Civil War there was just too many blatant misunderstandings and things that could’ve been cleared up if the Avenger’s didn’t share one (1) brain cell and it somehow ended up with Peter Parker who had homework to do. In this show, the ideals come from very understandable different perspectives, different lives lived. I know I want a conversation, but that alone won’t truly solve this like it would’ve in Civil War. It comes from very real criticism of our very real govt and society which I thinks helps cement this so much more in reality in a way that isn’t boring to watch like some other comic things that try to be gritty and realistic. The only part that has taken me out so far was the so very subtle cop scene in the second episode, which leads me into my next point

ISAIAH BRADLEY! Loop his story back in, let’s get some backstory and information and all that good stuff. Obviously Isaiah has made it pretty dang clear he wants nothing to do with any of this but obviously that’s not gonna happen, and it’ll be a tremendous waste of an absolute amazing and groundbreaking story to just bring Eli in at the end in some shoehorned way or something. Isaiah needs to be a part of whatever solution this story/season comes to. I’ve seen a theory floating around about either Isaiah being Wakandan (either like killmonger with one or both of his parents being from Wakanda, or more distantly) or perhaps Erskine’s secret ingredient for his serum was derived from the heart shaped herb (which would’ve made Cap White Panther 😬) which I think would be an interesting way to completely tie in Wakanda but perhaps a little unnecessary, specifically the first theory, we don’t need every future black person in the MCU to be secretly Wakandan. I just need his story to be more prominent then it has so far. It’s very important and not something that should just be a basically D grade side plot at this point.

I feel like we have shifted away from much focus on Sam. But I feel like the focus has pulled more on Zemo, Karli, Walker and Buck. Like Sam is doing what he needs but we aren’t getting as much insight into him as we did in the first episode. Which is why I think I liked his talk so much with Karli. We went back to his history of counseling and got to see how it uses it, how he calms down a situation, and his own insight into Karli’s ideals, he agrees but wants to go about it in a different way. We have constantly seen him offering help to others, but hasn’t really received much in return. I feel like now every time the shield comes up it’s just Bucky being all pissy that Sam gave it away which really turns me off his character. Sam already explained that maybe he made a mistake, but also Buck is so set in his way and his ideation of Steve that he can’t for a second consider Sam’s side. Like at this point it’s getting kind of annoying how Buck is being with Sam about it. I want more insight into Sam’s feelings about Steve, and Cap, and all that. Hopefully these last couple episodes with shift the focus back. At this point I feel I know more about Karli and John as people than I do Sam and that’s not great considering the title of the show. This was one of my earliest concerns for the series when it was announced, that it was going to focus too much on Bucky who has had his story almost front and center for almost all of the Cap films, they almost all in some part revolve around Bucky. Perhaps I need to rewatch and there has been some bits of Sam’s I haven’t appreciated enough, but it feels unbalanced, not in favor of him.

Sharon is being sketchy I fear. I do kind of like the idea that she is the power broker, but it’s hard to wrap my head around her threatening Karli like she has been. I mean she obviously has changed a lot, but if she is the power broker her motives have to be something different than what she is trying to lead people to believe. I think what’s more possible is her working for the power broker or perhaps working for/as the power broker as a cover for Fury or some other person/organization. She’s worked undercover for Fury before, she is obviously loyal to him, which might’ve changed since she talks to much about being abandoned by everyone, but I don’t know. It’s obvious something else is going on with her character, and while I love if she had just pivoted to this crime lord role, I just think of her speech at Peggy’s funeral and her loyalty to Cap and Fury in TWS. It’s possible she flipped on a dime like that because everything done to her and what she’s been through, and it may be too predictable for her to have the exact same storyline as TWS but who knows... that or she’s a skrull, always a possibility, can’t be too careful.

John Walker is clearly becoming the actual Anti-Cap. They are getting storybeats to line up. A ‘good’ soldier, turned propaganda tool, turned govt lap dog, serumed up, best friend dies, then what? Switched on by society? I love the moment with him and the flag smasher. It brought me back to when I was in the theater watching Civil War and I swore Steve was going to chop Tony’s head off with the shield. Steve just smashes the arc reactor of course, but John straight up murders this guy. And people are watching, the world is, people were recording. Definitely some purposeful similarities to our very real recording of police brutality irl. Which makes me think what will the govt response be? Will they spin it and try to get him out of this (which will feel really...weird? With the trial going on rn) or maybe will they abandon him completely and leave him high and dry? Hopefully we will see whoever the current MCU president is (prolly maybe Thaddeus Ross??) speak on it as well as the flag smashers and GRC. Walker is obviously not a good person at heart. I theorized before that he had already been given the serum, which clearly isn’t true so he has just taken it but there is something about his background that needs to be revealed. It has to be more than just “‘we did bad stuff while we were deployed” like... yeah it has a profound and damaging effect on people, but I feel like when he was talking to Hoskins it felt like they were remembering what went down slightly differently. I don’t know why, I’ll have to rewatch the scene. Either way, I think there is some stuff we still don’t know about Walker, something so terrible about him that made the serum change him like that. He was already clearly on edge, feeling insecure about people not giving him the respect he thought he deserved just from putting on the suit and carrying the shield, feeling that same imposter syndrome Sam did/does, and his pride was clearly DECIMATED by the Dora. He has this seeming obsession with super soldiers... he’s just giving weirdo vibes.

One thing I noted is that I think this series is taking apart Steve/Cap and spreading him out over several different people, and having them all pick at and dissect what makes/made Captain America the symbol he was, and what happens when you dig a little deeper. Karli seems to be the embodiment of the kindness/concern for others. She is fighting for the people, to protect them, as Cap was. But she is not holding back and is willing to put everything on the line, but where Cap was putting himself in the line of fire to protect people, Karli is putting others. Buck may be the classic idealism and Steve himself, I’m not 100 sure, but he seems to embody the kind of idea that people need something to put hope in, something to lean on, the idea of true good. He always brings up what the shield means and represents, doesn’t ever actually get specific though which is interesting. This may be because Bucky has a hard time separating Steve from Cap, since he saw the two grow up, when he talks about the shield and Cap he IS talking about Steve, there is no symbol or hidden meaning, just the Steve he knew. He conflates it all together. So I guess he represents whether or not the classic ideals can survive, the idea of hope, and Young Steve. Sam I think could be change. Where change is unwavering, like Cap’s fight for freedom never changed, but also where it is inevitable, in Steve and Cap’s place in a time that isn’t their own. How the idea of Captain America needs to be updated for modern times, or whether it should be thrown out altogether. I don’t know this is all ramblings. I though I had something but it’s almost 5am 😩

I believe we have 2 more episodes left so it’ll being interesting to see what they do with it. Fingers crossed 🤞

Snowdrop Chpt 4

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4115

Series Summary: Bringing Zemo in to help fight against the rise of the new group of super soldiers brings in a new, yet familiar face into the mix.

Chapter Summary: The team found the refugee camp and now look for information on Donya Madani.

Chapter Warnings: Episode level violence.

A/N: If you missed it there is now a drabble that talks a bit more about how Reader got the nickname 'Amazing Grace'. Also send me feedback! I would love to hear your thoughts about the story so far.

Disclaimer: All languages that are not English were provided by Google translator with the translations following in bolden italics. Gifs used were found under the gif tab provided by tumblr.

Catch up on Snowdrop here: (1) (2) (3)

Sam was on the phone with a member of the air force to get information on Donya Madani, the refugee that is the next lead. Bucky was lounging on a sofa-like bench intently trying to clean his metal hand. With a slight nudge to the man’s leg on the seat he pulled it in, not looking up at the woman who lowered herself into the seat across from him, one leg tucked underneath herself. She held her hand out wiggling her fingers next to where his eyes were trained on his own hands. The blue eyes raised up off his hands to look into her waiting eyes. His eyes rolled as he silently placed the cloth into her hand, extending his arm so his hand was in her reach. She silently began to clean, his hand making sure to get into every nook and cranny that she could.

Sam’s call with Torres ended and he sat down letting out a deep sigh. Bucky turned his head, pulling his eyes away from the smaller hands working to clean his prosthetic. “You okay?” the man across the aisle from him turned his head to look at him before looking back up at the dimly lit ceiling of the plane. “Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. How many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

Bucky’s attention turned back down to the palm of his hand that was now in the process of being cleaned. “Well it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” (Y/n) never looked up from her task as she listened. Barnes turned back to Sam making sure he understood that he was fully listening. “Yeah, I get that all right. Maybe I made a mistake.” There was a slight nod from Bucky as he verbally agreed, “You did.” There was a slight pressure in his hand as it was squeezed by the woman as a sign of her disapproval.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. I should have destroyed it.” Sam’s admission made her raise her head and look over at him, her hand stopping from cleaning. “That shield may cause a lot of fuss but it also means alot to some people. It’s the person behind the shield that brings a problem.” The woman spoke up for the first time. Bucky say up pulling his hand out of her grasp while doing so, “Like me, that shield means something to me. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from Walker myself.” Conversation paused and like she always did a comforting hand rubbed small circles in the ex Winter Soldier’s back. The anger slowly left his face in the blank stare he mastered, but there was a softness in his eyes.

Zemo carried over some food as Sam answered his ringing phone. He passed one of the plates over to the two ex HYDRA soldiers and set the other down for Sam. Sam spoke on the phone, most likely to Torres, while he watched the two across from him effortlessly pick at the plate they were sharing. “They found Madani...dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.” Sam informed everyone. Zemo holds a finger up and nods, “I have a place we can go.” The baron sits back in his seat, “I for one am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli.”

With the new heading set and food eaten everyone was settling for the remainder of the flight, and most likely to sleep. Bucky was still on the sofa, one leg out on the bench the other hanging off the edge. The nurse was tucked up in his arms, her head resting against his chest. Bucky’s eyes were already closed as he started to drift to sleep. However the woman he held onto was still awake looking across the aisle and out the window of the plane. Her view was blocked by Sam as he came back from the restroom. He turned to face them and their eyes met for a moment before he glanced over at Zemo who had a sleep mask over his eyes. “So what’s the story between you two? Were you two ever like a thing?” Sam’s voice was soft not to disturb those already asleep, especially Bucky.

“No. When we first met I was engaged. Not saying HYDRA didn’t want us to be.” She answered looking slightly up at the sleeping man holding her so casually. “What do you mean?” The woman’s eyebrows furrowed and she just slightly nuzzled into the warm chest below her, the owner’s arms flexing around her waist. “They wanted us to reproduce and create genetic super soldiers. Never got that far.” Sam watched how peaceful the two looked laying together on the small sofa bench, comfortable even. “You went back for him and you were engaged.” Sam pointed out to her. “He saved me. That day Steve broke him out of isolation in that camp. He came for me. Since then I swore myself I would keep those two idiots safe. I think my engagement unofficially ended the day I refused to get on that plane to the US and instead became the nurse for the Commandos.” A ghost of a smile appeared on the woman’s face as she went on. “He ended up having a son, who turned out just like his dad. Even had a granddaughter too. I got the chance to meet them, kind of. Maybe once this is all over I’ll get the family I wanted.” Her voice slowly began to soften into a slur as she began to fall asleep.

Sam sat there for a moment. He never thought Bucky Barnes could ever look so peaceful but he did. Normally even napping the man was stiff as a board but this was completely different. Here he was asleep, head lulled to the side resting against the back of the sofa, a woman in his arms, and not a scowl or anything visible on his face. It's interesting how much you can learn from someone just from watching them sleep, as weird as that may be. Sam smiled at the two before turning his head and letting himself fall asleep.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Riga, Latvia was the new location the group found themselves in. The group walked in a ‘T’ shape, Zemo leading with the other three following, (Y/n) in the middle. As Zemo led the way he mentioned Sokovia and how it was taken over by the neighbors before the land could even be cleaned up. Now it doesn’t even exist. As they turned the corner to one of Zemo’s many residences Bucky began to fall back from the group.

“James?” The soft voice of the nurse called to him. The man’s head turned to her and smiled softly. “I’m just going to go on a walk.” His statement drew the other two men’s attention as they stopped walking to turn towards the taller man. “You good?” Sam asked. “Yeah,” Bucky started to walk backwards. “I’ll see you guys in a bit.” The nurse turned to follow out of habit but Sam wrapped his arm around her. “He’ll be okay.” He told her even as her eyes still trailed Bucky as he left for his walk.

With the three of them now inside the apartment sized space (Y/n) ran her fingers through her hair hissing slightly at the knots and tangles in it. “You really care for him don’t you?” Sam asked her softly, making the woman glance at him with large doe eyes playing innocent. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Wilson.” She tapped against the bar top that she leaned against and looked at Sam. “I am curious though, Bucky’s new arm, where is it from?” Sam crossed his arms looking at the woman who wouldn’t meet his eye, “Wakanda. He spent some time there.” She nods and smiles at the realization that the metal his arm was made out of. “I visited Wakanda once. Back in, well I guess it was 1940 maybe even 1939 I can’t remember exactly. It’s where I was proposed to. It’s probably much different now than it was then. Maybe in the future I can see it again.” Sam watched the far off look clouding over her eyes. The conversation died after that, neither pushing farther.

Zemo had taken a bath before Bucky had returned, the closing of the doors announcing his arrival. “Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.” Bucky spoke as he walked towards the bar where everyone was centered around. “Ouch Sam.” The nurse hissed as the comb Sam had been pulling through her hair got caught. Bucky raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. “Were you followed?” Sam asked, ignoring the woman as he put down the comb. “No.” Although amused by Sam combing someone’s hair, his voice didn’t reveal anything. “How can you be so sure?” Zemo asked, peeking through the stained glass window. The nurse’s head whipped around as she stared at the back of the baron’s head like he was crazy. “‘Cause I know when I’m being followed.”

Zemo turned from the window to look at Bucky, “It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” Sam merely turned his head over his shoulder to speak to the German. “Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” The woman in the room rolled her eyes as she hopped off the bar stool she was perched on to walk behind the bar. Her hand just barely brushed Bucky’s back, unseen by anyone else in the room, as she passed to grab a glass and pour herself a drink as she listened to the men. “Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes moved left and right, “There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Zemo raised a hand to point at the only woman in the room, “She wanted to.”

“Sam,” Bucky called, drawing an end to their little argument. Sam turned his attention to Barnes who was standing on the opposite side of the bar from him. “What?” Bucky glanced up from his phone for a moment before informing him, “Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.” “What? What’s the damage?” The slight influx in Sam’s voice showed slight surprise and interest. “Eleven injured, three dead.” The nurse next to Bucky looked over his shoulder. “Where is it close enough to help?” She asked, trying to see a location. “Sugar, you are more help with us,” Bucky told her before continuing to inform Sam, “They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.” Sam let out a deep sigh, one that could visibly be seen pulling the man’s shoulders down. “She’s getting worse.” Helmut pointed out the obvious. He stood at the end of the bar between both Sam and Bucky. “We,” He began before the nurse shook her head and pointed at him. “Nuh-uh. Do not wrap me in with you. I’m done. I am here to help because of the serum. As soon as this is all over I am going with Sam or Bucky.”

“Fine. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the three of you?” The Baron tried again this time changing his phrasing. “She’s just a kid.” Sam reminded him. Zemo turned to him and shook his head. “You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Sam sat back as he listened, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist.” Bucky’s head tilted and his eyes glanced over at the woman slightly behind him who was looking down at the floor with her arms crossed. “The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.” Bucky walked around to the opposite side of the bar from Zemo and leaned against it. “Hey, those are our friends you’re talking about,” Sam warned. “The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky quickly added which made the ex World War II nurse smile and nod her head.

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam turned so he was talking to everyone even if his eyes were primarily on Zemo. The nurse opened her mouth but Zemo began to talk, cutting off what she had to say, “The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from the supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her.” There was a pregnant pause before he adds an afterthought, “Or she kills you.”

Bucky stands up straight as he looks at the man who just spoke, “Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve or (Y/n).” The German raised a finger and his eyebrows. “Touche. Yet the former Amazing Grace did turn her back on everything to come after you and helped you within her own free will. She’s probably more guilty than you are. So there really has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?” The woman’s eyes never left the floor as she quickly shuffled her way out from behind the bar to try and get away from the conversation. Yet she was stopped by Bucky who gave her a concerned look. She shook her head and moved farther away.

Her mind involuntarily flashing through ever murder she was assigned to help the Winter Soldier with. She lowered herself onto the couch and held her head trying to will the memories to go away. She could feel the intense concerned look on her back from Bucky as he spoke. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” His voice got closer as he neared the woman currently lost in the dark corners of her mind. “And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo asked while opening cabinets. “Yes.” Bucky’s answer was as firm as the warm hand that fell onto the woman’s shoulder.

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So when I was a kid my TT passed away.” Sam spoke as Bucky’s hand rubbed gentle circles around the woman’s back as he sat next to her, the way he remembers her comforting him years before. His hand hesitates just as much as his voice as he asks, “Your TT?” Sam turns to him and nods, “Yeah my TT.” Bucky’s face scrunched up in confusion as he slowly started to rub her back again, “Who is your TT?” Sam rolled his eyes and holds his arms up, “Fine. When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”

(Y/n) slowly raised her head as she focused on what Sam said instead of the nightmares in her memories. “It’s worth a shot.” Bucky comments looking back at the woman next to him. She looked into his eyes and he gave her a silent nod of understanding. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment and took a deep breath. Then under her breath she whispered to him, “Do you think Sam was a dorky looking kid?” She felt his shoulder shake in a small silent laugh. “Definitely.” The two laughed silently as Zemo made a comment about how Sam’s TT would be proud of him. The woman stood up and ruffled the dark hair of the man next to her, earning her one of his signature stares. “I’m going to wash up a bit then we can head into town and look for more leads.” She told them men before leaving to the bathroom.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

With their trusty ‘tour guide’, as he so graciously called himself, the group headed out to gather information. Zemo talked about the location they were at with fond memories from his childhood where the place they stood once was home to grand parties. Standing at the entrance the group divided into two. Zemo and Bucky stayed on the ground lever and courtyard while Sam and (Y/n) went to see what was upstairs.

(Y/n) stayed at Sam’s side but followed his lead as she looked around the building. Spotting a kid Sam followed him, calling out to him once, as they entered what looked to be a workplace for seamstress’. “Excuse me, have you heard of Donya Madani?” Sam spoke gently but the women quickly got up and left. Sam looked over his shoulder at the woman scanning the room behind him, then adjusted the case in front of him to show her the red handprint symbol of the flag smashers. They continued to walk through the upstairs rooms, each time they came across someone to ask about Donya they would quickly leave the room. Each room having at least one item with the flag smasher’s insignia on it. (Y/n)’s brow had furrowed by the second room. She glanced out the window, down at the courtyard where she could see Bucky and Zemo.

Finally they moved onto probably the final room, a small smile falling onto the woman’s face as she saw the children’s crafts in the makeshift classroom. “Excuse me.” Sam called out to the sole teacher in the room, who was kneeling down next to one of the desk’s helping a child. The man turned his head towards them and Sam continued to ask him, “Do you know a woman by the name of Donya Madani? She was a refugee here.” The man stood and turned towards Sam. “We’re not refugees, for we have nothing to seek refuge from. We’re internationally-displaced persons, for what it's worth, and we don’t trust outsiders.” The man pat the student he was helping on the back as if giving him permission to leave since the kid stood and exited the room.

“No, I understand, “ Sam spoke and there was a certain calmness to his voice, something soothing about it. “I’m not from here, but I have a pretty good track record of helping out.” The man in front of her looked as non threatening as he could make himself so she tried to relax and do the same but her eyes kept scanning the room as she listened. “I know what happens when people say they’re going to help. Nothing. The Global Repatriation Council promised to send more teachers, supplies. That was six months ago.” The woman’s head snapped around at the news. How could things have gotten so bad? She frowned as she looked over to the two smaller children in the room. “What’s your name? Maybe I can make a call?” The man shook his head. “I know who you are. But I can’t trust you. I’m sorry. “ He turned to the two children, picking one up as the other went to leave the room. Sam watched them leave and the woman behind him ran her hand over one of the desks. “Sam,” She whispered out the raw emotion for how much she wanted to help these people clear in her voice. “I know.” His voice, while more stable, held the same sadness in it. “Let’s head back down.”

Sam and (Y/n) came to stand on either side of Bucky who was watching Zemo interact with some local kids. “It’s starting to feel like a dead end.” Sam mentions as he too watched Zemo. “The hell is he doing?” Bucky said the same question they were all asking themselves. “Being smart. We won’t get anything out of the adults, they don’t trust us. Kids however, they don’t know any better yet. Is that...turkish delight?” Her head tilted to the side as she watched. Zemo stood and handed a handful of the candy to the children. The baron then turned to walk over and join the waiting trio. “Cute kids.” He comments, walking by the three of them. “He’s up to something and I don’t like it.” (Y/n) muttered putting her hands into the back pockets of her pants.

Without much information to go on they returned back to the apartment. “I got nothin’.” Bucky sighed, “No one’s talkin’ about Donya.” Zemo made a straight line to pour himself a drink while Bucky went to sit on the couch along with Sam and (Y/n). “No surprise there.” She comments before Sam explains,” Karli is the only one fighting for them. They have no need to cross her. And she’s not wrong.” Bucky sighs, turning his head towards them. “What do you mean?” Sam slaps his knees and holds his head back for a moment. “For five years people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbed wire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom.” Sam snapped to make emphasis on the event that brought everyone back. “Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them at least Karli’s doin’ somethin’.”

“You really think her ends justify her means? Then she’s no different than him or anybody else we’ve fought.” Bucky replied, gesturing to Zemo who was pouring himself tea. “She’s different from them. She’s not motivated by the same things.” Zemo carried in the tray that held all of the fixings for the tea he had just prepared. Bucky turned to him, “That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Zemo looked at each of them before answering as he set the tray onto the table. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

The information peeked everyone’s attention. Out of the corner of her eye (Y/n) watched as Bucky’s jaw muscle flexed, a sign that he was annoyed or getting upset. “You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.” However the threat didn’t scare Zemo into telling him any more. “Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm, I prefer to keep my leverage.” The woman in the room rubbed her temple as she mentally thought about how this may turn out. Bucky standing up from his seat and rounding the coffee table to stand in front of the man he helped escape prison, yeah that definitely wasn’t a positive one.

The low clink of the glove-covered vibranium hand against the cup Zemo was holding only took seconds to become a shattering splash of the cup hitting the pillar behind Zemo’s head. Bucky’s jaw was set as his hard gaze locked onto the shorter man in front of him. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” The low rumble threat that came from Bucky made the woman slide to the edge of the couch and prepare herself to jump in to stop him. “James.” She said at the same time Sam stood and said. “Take it easy. Don’t engage him.” Sam held his hand out right above Bucky’s chest. “He’s just going to extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing.”

(Y/n) stood from the couch and moved to Bucky’s side. Sam glanced at her and she gave a nod. “Let me make a call.” Sam told them as her hand gently grabbed onto Bucky’s elbow, the man’s attention still locked onto the baron. Sam walked away, patting Barnes’ on the shoulder as he did. With Sam gone, Helmut spoke again. “You want some cherry blossom tea?” Bucky finally broke his eye contact to look down at the tea. “No, you go ahead.” Bucky turned in the direction that Sam walked and gently patted the small hand on his elbow before walking off.

“Keeping information from them won’t keep you from being taken back into custody Zemo. Not to mention playing with him needs to stop. Or maybe next time I’ll be the one you need to handle. Do you understand?” The voice she spoke in was calm even as Zemo let out the breath he was holding. “You feel like that with him staring you down, try not upsetting us both.” She gave a friendly smile as her hand reached up to gently pat the side of his face.

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 15

NOTES:

Snippet 1; Snippets 2 & 3; Snippet 4; Snippet 5; Snippet 6; Snippet 7; Snippet 8; Snippet 9; Snippet 10; Snippet 11; Snippet 12; Snippet 13; Snippet 14

Word Count: ~2k

Faoust belongs to @thebiggestnerd - she writes him; Isaiah and everyone else here are mine.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%

A lot of things can happen in five short days. Like you find out your murder-friend-with-benefits got killed, and brought back by the god of Chaos on the condition that he had no memories of the love of his life. And maybe Chaos encourages your friend to pay more attention to you instead of the man he had loved. And maybe you go along with it—even though you know, right there in front of his actual love, that it’s so fucked up of you, that it won’t last, that it’s all just going to go horribly wrong. You fall into it anyway.

Hasn’t happened to you? Oh, just Isaiah then.

Isaiah still can’t explain to himself why, when Faoust asked, he agreed to try being something more for one another…first Isaiah agreed to come home with him, not to fool around more but to simply…spend time together? And then, what a day later? After spending the night, spending the day together, after a second fantastic tumble in as many days, just laying together spent in bed, there Faoust was saying insanely sappy things, about how Isaiah understood him, and how he liked being around him, and wondering about whether they were destined to be together? That sort of bullshit made Isaiah laugh. He doesn’t believe in destinies—no. A man controls his own fate, choices, actions. This was no destiny. Just Isaiah, who liked what they had already. Who didn’t want to ruin an already good thing. But who decided, finger pressed to Faoust’s lips to shush him from a string of “this is stupid”s, Faoust trying to backpedal his feelings while Isaiah simply needed time to think…who decided to go for it anyway.

It wasn’t a perfect five days. Saccharinity—a sweet kiss, a gentle touch of his face—made Isaiah feel uncomfortable—was not for him, not the dynamic he was used to sharing, not with Faoust. He had no desire to be exclusive either, the two of them, though he could sense the disappointment when Faoust agreed to it. That should have been a stronger clue how none of this was real. Before Chaos intervened, Faoust was living a quite comfortably open polyamorous life. Why would he suddenly want to forsake that for a monogamous life with Isaiah? Not that Isaiah would want such a thing anyway, even if he didn’t feel so uncomfortable with the idea of genuine commitment.

And then there were the appearances from Chaos itself, its terrifying hold over Faoust, fucking with his mind, inviting Isaiah to join it? Isaiah didn’t want to think about the horrible, too-toothed smile and the way it held Faoust. The way it smoothed over Faoust’s memories to free him from pain, to keep him from remembering.

Ah, and then the fifth night. When Isaiah had gotten attacked by Faoust’s true love, Dorien, over a bit of a misunderstanding (yes, ok, he can objectively admit how it might look to burst into a room and see Isaiah with a knife in his hand straddling Faoust, with Faoust covered in a mess of bloody cuts, but it was consensual), had gotten thrown against the wall and attacked over and over, Dorien screaming and slashing Isaiah’s arms. Faoust had had to save him from Dorien, had told him later he’d been scared Dorien was going to kill him. Someone caring whether he died? That was new.

And then, Isaiah hadn’t even bothered to ask how, he didn’t care, later that night, Faoust got his memories back. The hold Chaos had had over his mind had broken. He was back to the way he’d always been. Isaiah woke from a half-sleep with a start, remembers seeing Faoust peeking in awkwardly. Isaiah realized as he woke up that Faoust was at the door, rather than still in the bed with him.

“Hm? Where’d you run off to?”

“So,” said Faoust, “I have some good news and bad news.”

Isaiah knew. He knew by the tone of Faoust’s voice that this was it, that this—whatever it was—was over. “Ah, just say it.”

“I’m back. I got my memory back…all of it.”

“Is that the good news, the bad news, or both?”

“Little bit of both. Ah…” Faoust decided, after a pause, to just come out with it. “Chaos was manipulating my feelings for you. I don't..I don't feel any differently than I did before I died. I still care about you. A lot. But I was comfortable where we were.”

“Yeah, it…yeah.” Isaiah sighed. “Are you mad at me for going along with it anyway?”

Faoust smiled a little sadly. “Not at all.”

A bit more banter exchanged between the two of them. Isaiah claimed Faoust’s bed for the night, since he had very recently gotten a beat-down from the man Faoust would be eagerly waiting to run back to. They said the expected sort of things to say between people hoping to shift back to something they’d had before with as little damage as possible. Wouldn’t work out anyway. Better for both of us. Faoust seemed inclined to keep talking, as if to make up for this—whatever breaking off this was. But Isaiah didn’t want this pity, this strange compensation, this consolation prize of conversation knowing that Faoust was just waiting for Isaiah to seem ok so he could leave again. Isaiah finally chased Faoust off with a good-natured “stop bothering me, I’m sleeping,” rolling away from him and spreading himself out on his stomach across as much of the whole bed as he could, waiting for Faoust to leave.

Once Faoust was gone, Isaiah rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

Yes.

Best for both of them.

Isaiah isn’t meant for soft, kind things.

Murder and magic. That’s what he’s good for.

Now, Isaiah sits on his porch, legs kicked against the railing, thinking. His hands hold a stick and his knife, slowly worrying the bark away with the blade as he tries to make sense of his mind. It hadn’t even been love, they’d both said that, even when Faoust was completely under the control of Chaos, he’d never said he loved Isaiah. And even if he had, come on, Isaiah had been loved before.

But no. That wasn’t quite right, was it?

Vespar had been loved. And Elios before that, and Redrik before that, and so on down the line until you hit the bedrock of Isaiah, who had never been loved. Not by his mother. Not by his father. Not by anyone.

No one had loved him, and especially no one had ever known him, really him and all the things he did, and loved him. Not even come close. This thing with Faoust, it hadn’t been love. But it had been something that could have come close.

But no. It had all just been based on lies and manipulation. He knew that. He’d known it going in. So why does he feel so…hell. He doesn’t even know how to describe what he’s feeling.

Isaiah’s reverie is snapped by the sound of someone approaching. Any other time, a stranger crashing through the trees to his hidden home, calling out, “Isaiah James?” would have been great cause for concern. But here, today, right now, feeling things he isn’t even sure how to describe, the distraction is welcome. Isaiah stands warily, letting the stick fall, holding the knife ready in his hand.

The man stops at the edge of the clearing, holds up a hand to shade his eyes from the sun in spite of the cheap aviators on his face, to glance at Isaiah, check the phone in his hand, and back to Isaiah. He’s wearing a coat, though the day is a bit warm for it, and projects a solid confidence as he starts walking towards the porch.

“I’ve been looking for you, Isaiah James,” the man begins, “and hell have you been difficult to find. Would have figured you for dead, if I’d been able to find a body. But your mother—“

At this, the man freezes. Something in Isaiah snaps, this man speaking a name he shouldn’t know, mentioning his mother. He wants to hear no more, and without even needing to think about it he found his hand quickly tracing out the sigil in the air, the words across his lips, his will being imposed on another, binding the man in place. Isaiah closes the distance between the two of them, in the quiet of the trees, the traffic and the rest of the world distant and muffled by this little place where Isaiah has made a home.

“You should have found me dead,” Isaiah hisses, his thumb rubbing against the heel of his blade, using his magic to jerk the man down to his knees, wide-eyed and still frozen. “They sure as hell won’t find you.”

Isaiah draws the blade hard and deep across the man’s throat, one fierce quick motion, but stops before sending the body hurtling down into the earth where no one will find it. He grabs the phone, still clenched in the man’s hand, and holds it up to the man’s wide eyed face to unlock it.

The screen is on a missing persons poster, with side by side images—a sullen-looking 14-year-old boy with short, sandy curls, and the uncanny, unnerving imaginings of a computer algorithm of what that boy might look like now at 33. Still unsmiling, eyes hollow and dead. Have you seen him? asks the poster. Isaiah James.

Isaiah eyes the image critically. A facsimile of himself, hair too short, eyes (both of them, but hah, how could a computer guess he’d be missing one?) without any hint of mischief or trouble, an alternate Isaiah that could have been. Maybe, if Isaiah had been any kind of normal.

Isaiah swipes to the man’s messages to see what else he can find.

He has no intention of telling the bitch ahead of time, but Isaiah James has decided to come home. browser tabs, but it doesn’t look like the man told her where he thought Isaiah was. Not even where he was looking.

The man was a private investigator, apparently. Not from around here, by what Isaiah can glean from the details on his phone, and so, Isaiah thinks as he dips a finger in the man’s blood to start drawing a sigil, not likely to be missed soon. It’s so much easier to send someone hurtling into the earth right when he kills them, drawing upon the power of the bloodshed in the moment. Waiting requires this extra step. Manual, he thinks, rather than automatic. He considers keeping the phone, but no. He’s seen enough. A cell signal is a liability. He uses his magic to bury the phone far away, deep within the earth, and to send the man disappearing into the ground below, never to be found.

Back by the road, Isaiah finds a rental car. Tedious, he thinks, hotwiring the car and driving it off somewhere dark and without the pesky interference of video cameras. He can’t just leave the car near his home—that would inspire searches. Questions. Shit he doesn’t need. He drives it a few towns over, to give a different police force something to puzzle over, and slips back home through the shadows.

Perhaps, if he had been in a different sort of mood, Isaiah would shrug it off. To hell with his mother and whatever the hell she wants with him. It surely won’t be anything good. But right now, Isaiah feels…uncertain. Bothered by things he doesn’t know how to even identify. Needing something else to turn his mind to, to distract him from the confusion inside. He snaps his knife shut, sliding it in his pocket, and goes back in to grab his truck keys.

He wants to know. He needs to know. What the hell does she want?

He has no intention of telling the bitch ahead of time, but Isaiah James has decided to come home.

- NEXT SNIPPET -

Book Review: House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas

House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas

This review is going to be LITTERED with SPOILERS because idk how to talk about this book without giving away the whole plot.

Consider yourself officially warned. 

I’m still debating on my rating, but for now here is my review. Fair warning: it is rant-y and ramble-y and hasn't been edited yet. I'll clean it up when I come back for a rating.

As always, content warnings are listed at the bottom!

Overall Positives:

• SJM has actually included a few gay characters….now they are all very minor side characters (Isiah, Fury, Juniper, and Declan) who are only present for maybe 3% total of the novel, but at least they exist??? So she gets points for actually having gay characters who aren’t killed off. You can say that she’s making an effort.

• The banter between Bryce and Hunt was pretty funny

• That scene with the knock-off My Little Pony dolls was funny

• I think there might've been a reference in the book to First Aid Kit (the sister folk duo) and it made my heart squeal because I love that band SO MUCH!

• Bryce actually has a great relationship with her mom and her stepfather! And they are both alive! And stay alive! I’m actually struggling to recall a book I’ve read where the main character in the book has a). both parents alive and b). a great relationship with them both. So that was really refreshing!

• Hunt in a sunball cap.

• Bryce and Hunt taking photos together. Way too adorable.

• Ride or die friendship. I love books that emphasize the importance of friendship.

• That LIGHT IT UP DANIKA LIGHT IT UP LIGHT IT UP scene....like i felt that...her happiness. so sweet. i teared up at that scene ngl....

• Pretty good depiction of grief. How even after years the pain of losing your friend doesn’t go away. How some people cut themselves off to cope and others don’t. How some take out their anger on the closest target. How some people remember the dead one’s birthday and other don’t. etc. etc.

• It really was a slow burn because they like didn’t even kiss until 75% into the 3,000 page book.

• Rhun is my favorite character in this book. He’s a goth softie king. I also loved the Demon Cat. And Fury. And Declan. And Flynn. And Isaiah. And Hunt. And Lele. And the dog. And Jesiba. And Randall. And….well….that’s about it….

• I have recently been getting more and more into Urban Fantasy so I am excited and glad that this book is UF. I also like how it takes place in a different world with a different history (although for some reason I went into this book under the impression it takes place in New Orleans…)

Overall Negatives:

• If I ever have to see the word “alphahole” again it will still be too soon. I get that she was going for meta and trying to poke fun at how the trope in so many UF books includes an alphamale love interest….but it just doesn’t really work because none of the guys she was calling an alphahole was actually acting like one??? Okay so this is kind of ramble-y but whatever. When I think of an alphamale love interest acting like a…*shudders*…. alphahole I think of the stereotypical shifter romance/erotica novel where the guy likes wants to punch any guy who stands too close or talks to his mate. I think of him making outrageous claims, always posting a guard, never letting her leave the house, etc. all without any cause. Having a literal demon serial killer who (at this point in the book) you believe RIPPED APART AN ENTIRE PACK OF WEREWOLVES and is killing everyone who is close to working on the same case as you and you are a half-fae who NEVER carries a weapon with you, doesn’t have magic, and no one beside your mom, stepdad, and dead bestie know that you can turn into a flashlight at will…..yeah it makes sense that the people who care about you would like you to have a guard. But that’s not “alphahole” behavior. Nor is when you’re starving yourself from guilt him being concerned and wanting you to eat, or wanting you to try to take care of yourself….that’s not “alphahole” behavior, it’s being a good friend/sibling. If someone wanted a guard on her PRIOR to her investigating the murder than yeah….that would be “alphahole” 100%. But that’s not what happened…one of the highlights of the book was Hunt calling out Bryce by telling her that she is actually the “alphahole” here.

• Fucking sunball = baseball. WHYYYYYY I thought it was soccer for so long until Hunt tossed on a “sunball cap”

• I thought that Violet Hall from Pucked was the most infuriating main character I have read in a long time until I met Bryce fucking Quinnland. It is a pet peeve of mine when a character acts like someone (usually lazy or a partier) and then gets pissed because people think they are how they act??? Like, if you act like an asshole then don’t be shocked if people think you are an asshole. Also she was someone who was terribly selfish and stupidly reckless for no reason for 99% of the book. Yeah she’s ride or die for her friends which is supposed to be her best quality but she is just terribly rude to so many people. Like take Lele for example. Bryce treated her horribly until Hunt was sold again, then was friends with Lele for like a week which someone equated to Lele being willing to die for her???

• Part two of that bullet above^: Why was everyone willing to die for Bryce? Maybe I hate Bryce because she reminds me too much of Jane Salone from The Bold Type with her ‘I’m always right’ attitude. But yeah, everyone is willing to die for her. I don’t get why though. Also everyone wants to fuck her. She can’t walk down the street without like five dudes wanting to fuck her. It was so annoying. Also how the hell has she not died by age 25!?!? There is a different between being bitchy with your algebra teacher versus being bitchy with some guy who could smite you before you blink. And all of them are like ‘oooh she’s not afraid of me like everyone else how charming’ and I’m just like NO. That’s like if I intentionally pissed off some mafia dom and instead of making an example out of me for dissing him in front of his mafia bros, he’s like ‘oooh you’re sassy wanna fuck?’ MAKES NO SENSE!!!

•Part three of the above^: okay before someone comes at me and says ‘well would you be saying the same things if she was a guy doing an acting this way’ well probably. I love the KATE DANIELS (Magic Bites) series. And Kate is a no-nonsense, can come across rude, and gives zero fucks what anyone else thinks about her. Kind of like Bryce, but less bitchy and has the power and skills to back up her recklessness. (No one around Bryce learns of her secret lightbright gift or of her sharpshooting skills until the very end so I am maintaining my ‘she’s reckless’ viewpoint based on everyone around her not knowing of her abilities when she does all of this dumbshit). Kate also is a fucking martyr who runs towards danger even when the odds are against her. Just like Bryce. But I love Kate and hate Bryce. So…yeah I think it was just a Bryce issue. It took until about 41% with the whole phone-Sandriel thing for me to stop finding her insufferable….but I still never really liked her after that...I could stand her for the occasional paragraph or two

• Speaking of martyrs…why is everyone one in this book!?!? NOT EVERYONE NEEDS TO BE A MARTYR!!!

• Another reason I hate Bryce (yes I’m back on that Bryce shit) is because after Hunt broke her heart he immediate thought upon learning who he was going to be sold (back to his old owner who is a sadistic fuck) her thought was good, he deserves it and all he did was break her heart and not want to be a slave anymore and kept something he knew would destroy you (which yeah, keeping that secret furthered his cause but still…) and I just????? Have???? No words???? Like girl you have a RIGHT to be PISSED but jfc that doesn’t equate to TORTURE.

• Ugh and then her whole ‘take me instead’ bullshit was so reminiscent of that Jules and Emma whipping scene from Lady Midnight I almost gagged for the level of cheese and martyr-syndrome 

• Why is everyone described as “brown,” “golden brown,” or “tan”?! It’s like SJM is trying to not make everyone white but doesn’t want to fully commit…

• And was anyone uncomfortable/cringed at the ‘white angel wings are supreme to any wings with color’ bit....

• I hate books where the werewolves can talk outloud in human form. I cringed.

• Why was the calling people by their last name thing not consistent? I’ve read books before where characters flip between using another character’s first and last name, but there is context behind why they choose one or the other: the professional setting, if the person is happy or upset, who is being addressed, etc. But you’ll get Hunt calling Bryce “Bryce” and “Quinnland” within a sentence of each other? And literally every character did stuff like this. It was weird and not consistent at all.

Negatives About the Plot:

• This book really felt like three books in one: Part One (first 12ish%) being the day leading up to the Pack of Devil’s murder. And I do mean like every boring thing that happened. Part Two (the next 66ish%) being the murder investigation. Part Three (the last 22ish%) being where all the action occurred. The book felt like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. The summary promised a murder investigation so I was expecting it to be a KATE DANIELS-esque plot. But nothing of true importance really occurred during that investigation. We got some cool flashbacks with Danika, and some sweet moments between Hunt and Bryce…but that’s it. SJM isn’t Brandon with a Stormlight Archives (The Way of Kings) complicated interwoven plot. I think the book as whole would have been better if it was about 300 pages shorter.

• Nothing in the plot of true importance happened until the last 100 pages or so.

• I mean we literally got every single thing that happened during every single day of their investigation…it was….too much detail.

• When I got to 80% like every other chapter felt like the book should end. It could’ve ended on a cliffhanger. Like right after Hunt was found on that boat. But nope….

• Figures. SJM can’t have a main couple unless they both are super special. Did anyone else feel like she just recycled parts of ACOMAF in this book? Hunt: has wings and super special powers. Bryce: absorbs some super-fae juiced up power from a cauldron—er….I mean arch—to get extra powers and become the most super cool and super special fae in all existence because god forbid we have a heroine who isn’t the most physically powerful person ever. I mean, to hell with mental strength. Must be physically magically powerful or you’re no good!

• The only plot points that surprised me were the hunt being at the drug bust (because we got nothing from his povs that he was remotely interested in going back down that revolution road especially after his whole meeting with Briggs…still iffy with this one, because his thoughts in that cell sound like he actually was on board with it until he called it off because the drug is too dangerous but his call to the viper queen said she owed him a favor so…..) and Micah’s weird horn hard-on. Literally nothing else surprised me...

• I really though Reid would play a bigger role considering Bryce used to date him and is fam is responsible for that drug....but nope. The dude is like never even mentioned.

• Ugh...that villain speech. Maybe I'm just like...what's the point? Why not just zap the bitch why do you need to tell her your life story!?!?!

• Also let's be real, Danika's password never would have been allowed to be that simple nor remain unchanged for 2 years. But whatever.

• It’s also pretty cringe that Bryce freed Lele just for her to die…………..

• Why is Jesiba’s shop impenetrable (the building and cameras) until it’s convenient for it not to be…I mean it sounded like nothing could break into her building or the cameras but then… Micah just easily waltzed in there and Declan easily hacked into the security cameras….makes no sense but okayyyyyyy…..

• ....or about how the dog can teleport and undo locks until once again it's convenient for him not to be able to so she can dramatically save the day (look I also have issues with her valuing her pet's life over Lele's in that scene...also isn't the dog supposed to be like terrifying, it could've fought while her and Lele got out. not really sure how the water which delayed him like two seconds helped more than her dog would've....look, i love pets and i don't want him to die but i don't want Lele to die either!)

• Bryce and Hunt literally never have a talk about everything???? Like I get the world almost ended but neither of them had a thought like I know we need to talk about everything that happened on the boat. About if his love for Shahar trumps his love for me. But that can wait… Because those were all fears she had before but now vanished???? I get not wanted to have verbal talk but a thought from Bryce would’ve been nice.

• How can you run, carry a sword, and shoot a gun all at the same time? Still trying to figure out the logistics of that all....

• Why is SJM's adult book the least smutty thing she has written so far!?!?!?!?

• The love saves everyone and everything line is so fucking cheesy I can’t.

My Overall Feelings:

• The book couldn’t choose a plot. Did it want to be a crime book? Did it want to be ACOMAF? Who the fuck knows.

• This would have worked better as a TV series than a book. Especially that scene where Bryce is trying to save the city and everyone is just watching it happen on the jumbo screen at the summit. In book form it was just….weird….and felt disruptive...and someone could've started flying to help out. Plus I like watching shows with characters like Bryce but hate reading books with characters like her if that makes sense...

• Also if the summit is just between the leaders of CC then why did Sadriel have to be there? Why does it happen only every 10 years? Why does it have to take place outside of the city if no other leaders from other places are present?

• Why don’t we get a map of all of the other countries that were mentioned?

• This book was wayyyyyy too long. It would have been much better if it was reduced to 500ish pages instead.

• Also the character’s flip-flopped with their character development way too much. It wasn’t consistent.

• This is definitely one of the better SJM book’s I’ve read, but it won’t be one that I’ll reread. It is too long with too many boring bits in the middle.

• But hey! If you love SJM then you’ll probably love this book…

Content Warnings and Trigger Warnings: restricted eating, self-harm, drug use, alcohol consumption, implied rape, mentions of abusive relationships, suicidal thoughts, depression, emesis, slavery, terrorist attacks, grief, gun violence, death, murder, violence, torture

View all my reviews

So we’ve moved to comparing/making a rant on Lucelyn and Maruke. (this will be a lot of rambling probably.)  First we shall talk about Lucelyn, whom we all shipped for like one season, but that’s because we wanted Luke to be happy.  Anyways, what’s the problem with them and why they didn’t work. i had a little post on it while i was rewatching “The Mortal Cup” episode and have decided to expand on it.  Let’s go- we begin with the writing because no shocker there that the writing is the main reason why they didn’t work but that’s only on one character’s fault, Jocelyn! Luke seemed to have nice relationship building but Jocelyn’s a mess. So in the pilot we basically shown that Luke and Jocelyn are in a relationship, which is confirmed by Luke’s boss, telling him to marry Jocelyn, I know some might say oh it’s a coverstory but from how Luke acts and how they wrote the relationship from his side, they were in a romantic relationship. But with Jocelyn, they never really wrote her feelings for Luke, NEVER. From the beginning of her character to the end in s2, she’s never shown any romantic feelings to Luke, tbh whenever they interacted it was all about Clary, never about their relationship, it was always about Clary and the memory blocks/erasing she had Magnus do. They showed that Luke really loved her, but Jocelyn never showed that she loved him back as much as he did, makes you wonder if she really ever did love him romantically. Or if she settled for him as a substitute for Valentine.  (Get to that in a bit)  It really doesn’t help that development that Lucelyn had was all from like I said before Luke’s point of view and the fact is she was in a magical sleep for whole 13 episodes of season one.  And also doesn’t help that Jocelyn is a shit character with the writing she had, the show in the first season tried to tell us she was like savior to the downworld(ers), she saved them bah, bah, she’s pure of heart etc. When in reality she’s a selfish bitch and is just as racist as the Clave or as her husband is, just shows it in  a different way and never really grew and they just continued to write her that way. I’m basically dead set on her blackmailing downworlders into helping her, because she had the mortal cup so yeah there. Luke didn’t deserve her, when she acted like a racist half of the time to downworlders, he deserved someone who didn’t treat his kind like shit, which Jocelyn showed her true colors in s2, they were there in s1, just they really showed in s2.  (Jesus Christ Alec and Magnus were the only ones to call her out on her bullshit)  Anyways, she’s a shit character, who didn’t grow. Instead  put Alec’s life in danger, to find her daughter!  Who is someone’s fucking child. (Still angry)  But back to what I was saying the development  for them was all one sided, and now I feel like Luke could have been a substitute for Valentine... why? Oh boy let me explain this.  Remember 1x06? The episode that explains Luke’s/the Circle’s backstories? When Luke awakens and explained everything to Clary in Magnus’s (guest?) bedroom, he describes how Valentine was before he became a mass murderer. She basically says “He is Mom’s type, just like you.” And boy it rubs me the wrong way and made me realize holy fuck, Luke could’ve been just a substitute for Valentine??? Because this quote makes it seem like it. I mean- look, Valentine was Luke’s parabatai at the time, and when he started to pull away, and she noticed signs of him murdering downworlders, turning evil, she knew it would make her look bad (even though she’s racist herself, she denies it but she is) so she turned to someone else who was basically feeling the same thing: Luke, in a way reminds her of Valentine, I guess, while Luke fell for her, she just fell for the fact he was her husband’s parabatai and had the same qualities.  But if that’s not true, I don’t think she loved him romantically as he did her, Valentine’s crazy racist actions against the accords and Downworlders, supposedly pushed her and Luke together, to lean on each other’s shoulders, meanwhile it’s clear Luke hadn’t loved anyone before or at least he thought to himself, he fell in love. With Jocelyn, she loved Valentine, and it seems to be clear that they were meant to be (the alt world is proof) and maybe she thought she did but reality either got it confused with platonic feelings or she used Luke as a rebound which is probably more possible here. Because Jocelyn is just a bitch.   Either way it’s clear with the writing Jocelyn had, that she didn’t really love him the way he did her or whatever, just seems to be that she used him for a lot of things.  Anyways, now the second problem chemistry or as I should say the one sided chemistry just as there was one sided writing with the relationship.  Isaiah is not the problem, in fact he’s what made half of them work but it wasn’t enough.  Maxim was the problem- like okay she’s what I pictured Jocelyn to look like, she acts pretty good, but her chemistry with Isaiah is just eehhugh. She didn’t even try tbh, she didn’t try to ever give me emotions, never. She just stood there with the same expression her face when it came to somewhat romantic scenes she had with Isaiah, who did give you Luke’s emotions towards Jocelyn in that flashback in 1x06, that scene where he finds Jocelyn in 1x11, the standing by her side scenes in 1x12/1x13 and catching her at the end of s1? You felt it, you even felt his one scene with Jocelyn in 2x04 like he did it, but with her? Zero emotions! Like even if the writing lacked, improv exists.  Just everything with them was one sided and Jocelyn continued to be the worst character/mother alive.  The best change they ever did was killing her off, Luke got himself a sexy ass woman.  Oop- let’s move onto everyone’s favorite even though we weren’t sure about it at first, Maruke!  Now Maruke is everything Lucelyn wished it could be, with the writing and the chemistry.  So first we will begin with the writing- you could always tell with what little writing we got for Maruke that they cared about each other, and could be romantically in love with each other one day, which really lacked with Luke and Jocelyn’s relationship, Luke and Maryse isn’t one sided. And also some who still like Lucelyn are like Maryse is/was the same as Jocelyn!!! EVEN WORSE. Lol she had something Jocelyn didn’t.  Character development, Maryse’s development is also what makes Maruke works as well. In s1 yeah, she was racist, a bad parent, reminded you of Jocelyn in a different way, we disliked her, in s2 it continued for a bit up until she left and came back for Max getting his first rune, you notice she’s trying to change there, she’s trying to gain back her children’s trust, and also trying not to be so racist with Magnus, (Nicola mentioned at a con that 2x08 is when Maryse started to change her mind about Magnus because he saved Alec’s life when she couldn’t something along those lines) and she makes up with her adoptive son, and Alec brings  up their father, which caused her to break down because the whole cheating thing, and we get her sobbing and Alec confronting her, and you feel bad for her, and you see she’s trying to make up for what she did to her children and we were all like “is this the beginning of a redemption arc??? if so i’m fucking up” and she returns in 2b to continue making amends with people and how she treated them before hand, Luke and Izzy, which are both heavily important because she did sl*t shame her daughter, made her feel less compared how she treated Alec and Luke she treated differently because he turned into a werewolf, and honestly good shit, then they continued with making her own up to her mistakes by de-runing her and making full amends with Magnus (3x03 is really fucking important) and fully accepting Alec’s relationship with him! She had the character development to be with Luke.  And Jocelyn, was just lol nothing but undercover racist to showing in fully s2, when she died.  Back to what I was saying before, with what little we got with Luke and Maryse worked perfectly. Hell even the talk in 3x06 which I love because Luke comes in after Maryse has been deruned and she’s like “Lucian” and they sit down to talk about how they have been ripped away from being a shadowhunter, etc etc. and Luke goes right into how he fucking remembers the last time she had her hair down and that was like twenty years ago ( listen if you remember the last time she had her hair down, you’ve feelings for them okay) and they’re making hearteyes and shit its *chief’s kiss*  Their first kiss was oof, like it was damn good okay, they bond over shit and it fits them where you didn’t get to see that with Lucelyn.  Also not to forget that Maryse tells Magnus that her and Luke used to be rivals at the Shadowhunter academy and than in the Circle (I believe? I have watched it once I think she mentioned the circle too) which is like holy fuck, one of my favorite tropes is Rivals-Enemies-to -Friends then Lovers, because they really don’t hate each other, they like each other, whoo.  With the littlest things in their set up and writing, makes you ship them (along with Nicola and Isaiah’s chemistry which in a minute), and also makes you wonder, did they like each other back then and realize it but couldn’t act on it because they didn’t think the other liked them that way, just with little things you see it in their writing, with Lucelyn’s you didn’t.  And now the chemistry, tbh their chemistry is good shit. Like on the top tier as Harry and Matt’s, for Malec. You can see the emotions in the romantic scenes, which lacked with Lucelyn’s, it’s not one sided chemistry with one actor, both actors are showing the emotions, the hearteyes, and probably things that aren’t in the script.  Isaiah and Nicola played their strengths with each other, hoenstly, just honestly, even little eye contact was enough for you to be like woahhh.  All of their scenes never lacked anything, you could see they were a building romance, even though I don’t know if they were just planting it to see our reactions in s2, so they could build on it, or our huge interest in them and how they could be a romantic relationship made them do it, someone should ask this question.  Together, being able to show us the emotions along with the little writing they got, is how Isaiah and Nicola made Maruke work.  Bottom line: Lucelyn suffered from one sided writing/chemistry and Jocelyn’s shit character, who never grew, continued to be a racist, selfish woman, while Maruke worked because Maryse had the development, so did the relationship as a whole and were able to show me that these two care a  lot about/like each other and eventually will fall in love. Even with little writing. 

‘Nuke Milwaukee’ a.k.a. ‘Operation White Summer’ - this is not hate-speech or incitement but a sketch of what ‘could’ happen and why 

Someone told me to grow a beard and someone else told me to shave - I like to shave, I went without shaving and a lot of salt-of-earth b/Black people literally started spitting at me and stuff like, ‘This isn’t the male prostitute I ordered that Kendi / Mao assured me I would get by dint of racial privilege in history’ - mental illness, demons, cauldron-Babylon.  You are not supposed to provoke people’s hate and murderousness that I know of.  Santa Mao and the great fairy-tales-are-all-real explicators / intellectual entrepreneurs and propagandists; ‘The Unoriginal Sinner and the Ice Cream God.’

I speculated that ‘Rex Imperator’ Vladimir V. Putin could be the most powerful man ITW today and perhaps in all human history due to his extreme intelligence, responsibility, having been on the scene at amazing moments.  There was a book about Russia I saw that decided to call WW2 Eastern Front ‘Great Fatherland War’ instead of ‘Great Patriotic War’ although the Russians themselves also used a phrase, ‘Holy Mother Russia.’  A biography of Zhukov whose author prefaced, ‘Really I would’ve preferred to write about KK Rokossovsky of Op. Bagration’ - me too!  I kept thinking about Bagration and how many families both German and Russian kept their sons and futures due to the extreme ferocity and much else that is hard to describe about sort of eagle-clawing the throat out of Army Group Center.  KKR was actually part Polish, was tortured, known for being gentlemanly.  End digression: Russians and Eastern Europeans know a lot about violence and also how to keep trying to do the right thing even after very bad things happen to them.  More to the point: they succeed.  In MS we mocked Poles but Poles saved Christendom at the Siege of Vienna; people never say this but they also fought longer and harder than France in WW2.  They are beautiful important people; I never met a Pole who lacked determination and frankly a belief in ultimate victory.

Around here I made one last attempt to heal my past w/ a book about people in and from Shanghai and then went to the Starbucks where I used to practice Korean and penmanship, the barista was like, ‘Oh!  You went to the bookstore?’  I don’t know how to reply.  What are people doing?  

At H-Mart, ‘someone to love.’  People on the verge of war make snap-decisions that determine their lives; however, these stories can still end up subsumed or engulfed in much larger circumstances - which looks good and beautiful in Hollywood but.  I’m reminded of a gas-chamber scene in ‘Life and Fate’ in which a woman ‘adopts’ a young boy in the last moments of their lives on this Earth.  One wants to find someone, some o/Other, to cover sacrificially, while the flames roll over or one body catches fire on its back but extinguishes the fire on the other; from what I know about napalm OTOH it can ignite water.  My point is - all of this happened to people in non-America and they kept going; they worked harder; they kind of said pace Brothers Karamazov, ‘I am more responsible than all the others.’  Kyungsook Shin was wrapping 24,000 pieces of candy per day or so she claimed.  ‘Manual labor makes one honest.’

People are like ‘Say the name of one person who died and let’s demand that David Johnston shave or we’ll infect him with a bioweapon ad maiorem Maoem gloriam.’  That’s psychopathic malice + the barista is like ‘The High Toned Christian Woman’ - ‘civil madam...’  But if you read Isaiah all the ladies are getting stripped and stuff which sort of happened in GoT from what I understand but GoT was more commercial revenge-pornography written by white people for white people or rather for Mammon.  I feel attached to the 1990s; I liked the Beethoven-derived and much-remixed and re-sung song ‘Hope’ and esp the last ‘Culture Humanity’ concert; it struck me most of Girls Gen were born in 1989, the year of Berlin and Tiananmen.  But - nothing near as bad as Leningrad, Stalingrad, the Holocaust, Hiroshima, etc. has even happened to Milwaukee and, it, shows.  I used to walk around [Korea] reflecting, ‘Here I am in the walled rose garden guarded by military angels and entrusted with the chance or chances of numerous children’s lives whose world is the apartment, the school the church the cram school the piano cram school, Mom’s hand, the pellucidity and “innocence of objects” in the department stores.’  

I wanted to tell Mike Pompeo about this because Rose Gardens are very important and Korea is very very important; I really wanted him to be President after the Rose Garden b/c I felt, ‘This guy doesn’t care about “persona” and he’s not saying everything he can or trying to pretend he understands everyone in the present or will give them stuff he is just talking in “noun-truths,” life, China, people, truth, trust, distrust.’  America is still like, ‘Let’s remember Hitler’s personality.’  No!  Did Pompeo state a falsehood?  Did he promise or offer stuff?  Did he tell people what’s good and bad or what it’s OK to hope for?  Is he trying to teach anyone anything or is he being, doing, having, working?

I do not believe America can out-lie or out-charm or if I’m being honest out-beauty the Chinese.  I definitely don’t believe ‘we’ can out-math the Chinese.  I know a bit about how they teach math in SG.  It is far from magic and it’s also not your football coach.  IDK everything but I cannot easily conceive of chaining these flaxen-haired Midwestern girls to IV-drips while they cram for college entrance exams; they might do diet-pills and stuff a la ‘All Loves Excelling’ but that is not a happy story!  She dies; moms blog.  This novel haunts me but if we convert it into prophecy what is it saying?  It’s saying ‘failure of education; failure of America; Changrae Lee novel (Gesture Life) for white people who think Korean stuff only happens to Koreans.’  

The Episcopalian Church today talks about Christ and consciousness which I believe is important since I am conscious person but the local pastor also talked about ghosts and life and it really baffled me.  Category of consciousness as opposed to knowledge, or pre-programmed reaction, or ‘calling it as one sees it.’  In a way I associate consciousness with a poem by Tagore called ‘Unending Love.’  Holding the consciousness of b/Being, the permanent presence or at least permanent abiding awareness of the reality of the o/Other near or far.’  Another banned book I hoped never to talk about again was ‘The Elementary Particles’ which is full of pornography and hate and anti-family anti-mom rhetoric and its author really didn’t help himself in some ways - I also love his poem ‘Liquid Birth’ however.  In the end of ‘Elementary’ the future-historian writes about a transition / conversion from an ‘ontology of space’ to an ‘ontology of states.’  That’s an important idea which also reaches back, for instance in Houellebecq’s mind, to the medieval man’s constant testing of his state of grace or sin.  

But, what permanently changes the bases, groundwork, foundation, or ‘metalanguage-basis’ for the mental awareness of ‘historical moment?’  What decisive kind of event could stop the mind from going back to the easy and complacence-generation assumption that every experience can be filed away in a library thus enabling one to return or regress to a prior mindset and self-consciousness or ‘internal identity-theory-engine.’  What comes to my mind is, ‘losing everything.’  People believe they can eat up everything and blog about it.  

I don’t know if I can make a clear case for this but I just feel like ‘Milwaukee Torch Parade’ is not the way to go.  It reminds of something really dumb John Updike said after 9/11 that totally missed the point - Chancellor John Piper might have said ‘Don’t Waste Your Terror-Attack’ - about America’s realizing that it was not that great to get richer and richer and watch talk-shows and that were many possible friends, converts, human lives / souls, whom a very little of our treasure could help in big ways.  Right after 9.11 before ‘Operation Infinite Justice’ there was the sense that everything would be different; ‘death of irony’ might have missed the point but the idea that we could live by direct declarative statements and avowals rather than conversations and Tory-doubts was a good idea and only then instead of ‘bread and lilies’ we spent a huge amount of money on bombs that suck out people’s eyeballs and collapse their lungs... I’m not even saying it is wrong to build amazing weapons because God’s an amazing masculine being - the amazing - but there remains the category of ‘permanent lessons.’  The drawing of unerasable lines that provide a demarcation.

Anyway I just feel like they’re not enforcing posted laws, there are all these weird modded cars and motorcycle maniacs, they lock up drunks while apparently bypassing sex-slaves, I get lectured about people freezing to death by my parents who own like 20-30 jackets and then my mom is like ‘Your father [Freudian excuse from 60 years ago].’  This is not how Eastern Europeans and Russians do things. From what I know this is not how human history has worked for most people.

5.04 Pandora’s Box

Appropriately titled seeing as the bunker is opened and all hell breaks loose! Broken into sections based on characters. Mainly Kabby tbh. At least two song references. Possibly other pop-culture references... I guess you’ll have to read to find out...

Kabby

Omg Dad!Kane what is happening??? Octavia I know you care what are you doing. OFC he grabs a shield. Abby is locked up? That’s where she is! AHHH! I was right of course he’s taking the fall for Abby. NATE. JACKSON. What is the plan??? INDRA? Save my guy! I mean I know he will live but the suspense and HEY HE IS GETTING HURT while I wait for you to rescue him. OH SHIT. He did not need saving mamaaaaa I just killed a maaaannnn He clearly didn’t want to do that. More shaky hands and “what have I done face” it’s ok bby I know you feel remorse and you will be forgiven.

What the hell Octavia? He fights again??? Get out. Uggghhhhhh this is torture let him live! Ok. If I take a step back, he’s fighting again because he hesitated and showed weakness. The crowd wants a strong winner. Got it. Doesn’t make me like it, but that’s how this system is running now. Mob mentality. Human beings in a mob… What’s a mob to a (red queen) what’s a (queen) to a god? What’s a god to a nonbeliever? Who don’t believe in anything? We make it out alive. Alright, alright, no church in the wild. You know I went a little further with that song than I intended, but it works because the era of commanders and the flame is over, Gaia didn’t like that, but she understands symbols and Octavia covered in blood is a strong symbol, I’ll give her that. She knows he didn’t do it. But it’s about appeasing the mob. Kane’s reply “we’re all guilty” FUCK ‘EM UP BRO! WE SO ARE. We so are. And then Octavia’s all eyeroll-y and not here for a philosophy lesson. I loved that exchange. Dad!Kane gets super philosophical with it and she doesn’t want to hear it so often. Is Indra going to help him? KINDRA FOREVER. No, she’s going to go talk to Abby. She is so smart. Indra is the best. Make her main. Jaha is dead. Isaiah is gone. You can pay Ms. Porter more okayyyyyyy. She’s been crushing her scenes. I’ve been saying this for years.

Back to Abby. How did no one catch the addiction six years ago? It was clearly an issue at day 46, so I’m surprised Jackson didn’t intervene sooner? Or maybe he did. But addiction is not easy and can drive people to do desperate things, like stealing medicine. Thank the lord Kabby gets another pre-death hug. Why is this a reoccurring thing? He’s going to live. I am not worried. Maybe if this was the end of the season or if Jaha hadn’t just died I’d be a little more worried.

Oh man. I said I wasn’t worried, but I’m a little scared. My boy is taking some serious injuries as he plays the Jesus card yet again. Octavia no! don’t hurt him! Of COURSE I was right. Just when he’s about to die the bunker opens and our man Bellamy comes in all spy-kids/ navy seals- pick the reference you prefer (also whats-her-face-main-woman was a SEAL soooo this is a reference AND the truth). Oh and here’s Clarke too. Bellarke is like. Shit. What blood pit did we drop into?

AND THEN KINDRA BFFS! I feel like Indra is always saving Kane? Kane has defended her, but she’s straight up saved his life at least twice in my immediate memory: When he was chipped in polis and she tackled him (and his poofy hair was wiiiillllldddddd) and here again when she gets him out of the bunker while Octavia isn’t looking. And then Clarke gets to hug mom and Kane again and I love it. Literally Clarke and Abby can’t be together for more than a few hours on this show. They were separated for SIX years. Then they get, what, two conversations, the second is her telling them to run! And then Abby comes back and makes sure Kane goes back to space with her (nice) but has to leave Clarke again. Jason, if this is the most important relationship on the show, please let them have a day or a week together.

Raven and Shaw I ship ittttttttttttt. Shaw’s already developing a crush and he hasn’t seen the beauty that is Raven Reyes. Good luck bro. OH! But he fell in love with her mind first. Aw this is great I like this. Please don’t ruin this for me. Murphy and Raven scenes were nice. Love Raven talking to Clarke on the radio. And then Murphy asks why Raven always has to be the one to sacrifice? Love him. What a hero move. I’m glad he gets to play the hero again for his sake, even if he should learn over this season that he has value in just being him. He got Raven to have some fun and kick around a soccer ball. He has value just for doing that.

Bellarke

Bellamy learning diplomacy. He’s come so far. And then we get a great Bellarke hug. It really was a sweet and pure moment and I don’t even care that Clarke didn’t get all the details she would normally want. Happy happy.

Major take-aways:

-Marcus Kane is a sacrificial angel, but he also has military training and can defend himself and kill a dude if he has to. But he doesn’t like it. Especially when it’s personal aka hand-to-hand combat and not with the distance of guns. He does it for Abby. And that’s why I love him. Also he is beautiful, inside and out. He has been blessed.

-Octavia has changed. That’s going to take some getting used to for Bellamy and the viewers.

-Shaw is the only “nice” guy, but is he really nice? He’s still following orders and appears to have betrayed the crew to help the prisoners take over the ship. But he’s got a moral compass, he’s just not living to it the way he wants to. That may change- he’s in survival mode right now with guns pointed at his head anytime he objects. I’m curious as to what made him rebel to get to where he is now. I’m also excited for Shaw to meet Raven. She doesn’t need a love interest, but *I* am a little interested in what that would look like. She could pull an Abby and help bring out the better man inside that’s hiding behind rules and following orders.

-Bellarke is hiz hop happening.

-Uh so everyone else from space squad is hiding in the woods with Maddi?  I’d like to know what they’re talking about there- catching each other up and sharing stories. What stories did Clarke tell and leave out? Is Maddi going to ask Marper about how long Bell and Clarke have had heart eyes for each other? I wouldn’t mind seeing that. At the same time, I do understand that it is not exactly crucial to the plot; the idea is that they are safe. Not sure I need to see that, but it’d be cool.

-SO FAR THIS SEASON IS GREAT AND I LOVE THAT I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS THAT I CAN’T QUITE FIGURE OUT YET- like what is the sickness Abby needs to cure? Is it some toxicity from the minerals they were mining? That’s the only guess I’ve got and I am A-OK not having it figured out yet.

-I am worried Marcus going to space is a bad idea because he will be used as leverage to get Abby to do things she doesn’t want to do. No doubt there.  But I’m ok with that because everything is ethically grey andddddd it means Kabby will have scenes together. AND they’ll be flipped from last season where Abby was just hanging out in Polis for a bit to be Ambassador Kane’s partner. Now Kane gets to be the Doc’s partner. He’ll probably still get a role because he’s a good diplomat and all that. But I like the idea of Abby having the major role to play and Kane hanging out as a love interest. Because GENDER NORMS. And Kabby talks and cuddles.

-When will Monty and Miller be reunited? And Miller and Harper were buds all the way back when they were locked up on the ark. I love reunionssssssss

Story with Gods - Chp 2

A while ago I shared the current version of the first chapter of my WIP, this week I have decided to post the second chapter in celebration of the fact that this blog is quickly approaching 200 followers (which blows my mind). Everything that is happening here will make much more sense if you go read the first chapter first. Anyways, thank you all, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings for: death, lots of death and talking about death, starvation, other associated potentially disturbing content

NEXT

"What are you doing?" Phil's face was filled with concerned anger as Sophia gave Quentin her water and toast.

"He's sick,” she responded plainly. "He needs it more than I do right now." The others found themselves agreeing with her until they saw how her hands shook. But it was too late, and that day at lunch there were only seven containers. Sophia dutifully helped Quentin eat and refused the offers of anyone else's food. She didn't want anyone to have their food taken away, she could live without one meal. Throughout the day Quentin seemed to improve. By supper, he was sitting on his own again, and he wouldn't shut up about how indebted he was to Sophia.

"It's no big deal,” she said smiling. "If there's any way to help someone I always will." When supper came, Olivia grabbed three containers as she always did and brought them over to Sophia and Quentin so the three of them could eat together. However, before she could sit down, Karen called her name.

"How many containers do you have?" she demanded.

"One for Sophia, one for Quentin, and one for myself." Olivia shrugged, her voice rang harsh and empty when she addressed anyone but Sophia. "Why?"

"There aren't enough containers," Karen responded in a hushed voice. "We're one short."

"I think I'm still being punished." Sophia had stood up behind Olivia without them noticing.

"Seriously?" Phil exclaimed. "This is an outrage."

"It's ok, I'll be fine," Sophia assured them. "No one else needs to have their food taken away." No matter how many times someone tried to force her to eat, Sophia refused, and eventually, they found themselves giving up. Each ate their meagre portions and went back to their hushed and forced conversations. That night Sophia fell asleep long before everyone else.

"Guys," Olivia said once Sophia was asleep, "Sophia is the kind of person would kill herself for any one of us. If she doesn't get food in the morning we have to force her to eat." Olivia was worried and scared, and for the first time, she let everyone see it. "She's just pretending to be fine. Earlier when she went to use the washroom, she had to lean against the wall the entire way, and she still looked like she was gonna pass out."

"We can try, but she's stubborn." Jen sighed. "I'm not sure we can force her."

"I owe her,” Quentin admitted. "I may be able to get her to eat if you help me, Olivia. You two seem to be really good friends maybe she'll listen to us."

"Thanks, guys." Olivia sat down again, next to Sophia. They all slept uncomfortably through the night. Come morning as everyone woke up they began to grow concerned. They had no way to tell the time, but they were very sure that breakfast usually came earlier. There was no sign of food or an announcement for hours. They took to begging and yelling at the announcer for answers. Sophia urged them all to calm down, they would never get food if they behaved like that.

"It's been a full day since you've eaten,” Isaiah reminded her rather aggressively. "How can you still be so calm?"

"We have no choice. If we want to survive, we have to behave how this guy wants us to behave. We still have no idea what's going on, and it's been over three weeks. We all have people to miss us, and they'll find us eventually we just have to cooperate and survive until then." Sophia ranted for a while longer, repeating that they could survive and that they had to stay calm. She was somewhat surprised when the others remained upset. Perhaps, she thought, people were not as easy to persuade when they were so close to dying.

"Talk about hypocrisy." Quentin glared at her. "You broke the rules, you gave up your food to help me. Now we’re trying to do that same for you, and you keep telling us not to."

"You were sick, I'm fine." Her face remained perfectly emotionless. "It's as simple as that." That was the end of any conversation with Sophia, she sat staring at a wall, she wouldn't move, and she wouldn't respond in any way. Her eyes seemed to have lost their light and if not for the movement of her breath you'd have thought she was dead.

An announcement came on at lunch. As usual, it said the time and to come and get the containers. However this time no containers came out, only water bottles. Only seven water bottles, each about half full. Immediately Anthony and Karen started drinking. Everyone was dehydrated and the cool liquid felt like heaven in their dry mouths.

"Wait. Don't drink it all,” Olivia warned. "It's really strange that they'd give us water if they aren't gonna feed us. I think something weird is going on."

"Well maybe Sophia's right, and they just don't want us to die." Phil shrugged as he drank some more. No matter what Olivia said, the others didn't listen. Quentin was over by Sophia trying to get her to drink some water. She didn't respond.

"C'mon Sophia. Why won't you drink?" He begged her. "Aren't you the one going on about surviving? You need to drink to survive."

"So do you," She whispered without moving.

"Soph, don't be an idiot." Olivia crouched down on the other side of her. "He's had more to drink than you, you haven't had anything since yesterday morning." Sophia just stared blankly, without warning Olivia slapped her across the face. "I don’t want you to die, ok? It took me goddamn long enough to decide I don’t want to die and now we’re here and just... I really don’t want you to die goddamnit.” A shallow breath shuddered through her. “I’m scared.” She paused. “Take a mouthful of my water,” she demanded. Sophia whimpered and took the bottle. They sat there in silence. Within a couple of hours, everyone but Olivia had finished their water. A few hours after that was supper time and when that came and passed with nothing, everyone looked to Olivia.

"How'd you know they weren't gonna give us any more?" Karen accused.

"Look, as I said then, I just thought it was suspicious." Olivia shrugged, once again appearing emotionless. "I have good instincts for that kind of thing."

"Well, now you've got to share. If they aren't going to give us any more, there's no reason not to." Karen stepped forward.

"You should have listened to me then. I'm sorry, but this is my water. There's not even enough here for everyone to get a mouthful." Olivia held her water bottle tightly, anger bubbled behind her careful act.

"And yet I've heard you offering it to her all afternoon." Anthony pointed accusingly at Sophia. "That's what I call selfishness." Phil and Isaiah watched the situation, judging what they could get out of it. Jen watched nervously from a corner.

"She's not being selfish, she's being smart. She's not going to sacrifice herself for all of you who wouldn't even listen to her." Quentin moved to stand defensively between Olivia and the others. Olivia and Quentin argued helplessly against Karen and Anthony who continued to approach. They stood face to face with Quentin and Olivia, only a few inches between, hissing angry words.

"Everyone stop." Sophia's voice rang out, calm and clear as it echoed slightly through the small room. She used the wall to help herself stand and took a few steps towards the arguing pairs. "This is nonsense. Olivia's water is hers to do with it what she chooses. You being whining asses isn't going to help you get any if she were to share." Sophia turned towards Olivia and Quentin. "And you two, fighting back and being aggressive just makes things worse. Be better than them if they're going to be like that. Everyone separate now and go sit on opposite sides of the room." She shook her head. "I feel like I'm talking to elementary school students." Throughout this monologue, everyone stood in absolute silence, as soon as she had finished everyone followed her words with only slight protest.

"Hey, thanks, Soph." Olivia patted her shoulder. "That was really cool." Sophia didn't respond and just stared into the distance again. She swayed slightly, and her eyes went kind of cross-eyed. "Soph, are you okay?" Sophia's knees buckled, and she collapsed into Olivia's arms. Olivia nearly fell backwards, and Quentin had to help her get Sophia to the ground.

"What happened?" Phil asked as he joined them in kneeling around Sophia.

"She was fine and then she just fell." Olivia’s voice bordered on hysterical as she swept Sophia's blond bangs off her face. "She seemed fine."

"This is your fault," Quentin yelled at Karen. "She only got up to get mad at you."

"She was mad at you too." Karen sneered.

"Stop fighting," Olivia spoke just barely loud enough to be heard, a sob hitched in her throat. "She told us to stop." The others all flocked to comfort her, and they gently placed Sophia in the corner.

"She may be fine. She just passed out." Jen tried to be optimistic. "She may wake up." But they all knew that in that situation even if she did wake up, it wouldn't be for long. It wouldn't be long for any of them.

The next day Sophia woke for a very short time. She didn't say much other than how nice it was to have met everyone, she had completely surrendered. Olivia couldn't stop crying, dry and tearless sobs. Everyone was very quiet throughout the day, respectful to each other and to Sophia. The quiet emphasized the harsh rasp of Sophia’s breath. Her eyes were blank and unseeing and unblinking as if they had died while her body remained alive. Alive but empty. Olivia stared and stared into Sophia’s brilliant blue eyes, willing them to lighten and fill with that spark that had been there on the very first day. The spark that glowed as Sophia tried to plan out a stranger’s future. Now Olivia knew that future would never happen and the eyes remained blank, blue as the sky but colourless at the same time. By what they guessed was supper time Sophia had passed out again and by the time they all went to sleep her breathing had stopped completely.

The day after many of them had difficulty waking, they tried to open dry eyes only to be faced with the glaring lights burning into their eyes, and it felt like, Olivia thought, into their very souls. Isaiah dragged himself along the walls, checking on everyone, it seemed a pointless practice, something done in a futile attempt to make himself feel useful. No one stood for more than a few moments that day, they were all too weak. When she tried, Olivia felt her limbs quake, and her legs protested what little weight she had left. She forced herself to her feet anyways only for them to betray her and she fell hard to the floor and began to retch. On an empty and dry stomach, her body could bring up nothing but burning bile. Despite all this, Olivia seemed the least affected and was constantly trying to comfort others. She forced herself around the room, singing and telling stories as Sophia would’ve done. It was a tiresome and fruitless task, but it was the only thing she could think to do, it was what Sophia would’ve done after all. Sophia was the strong one, the brave one, the one who had given Olivia hope. Another day passed with no food or water. Death by dehydration is not the worst way to go, unpleasant for sure but not the worst. Quentin was the next to go, he just didn't wake up in the morning. After that was Jen, then Phil. With each that passed, the others dragged the body into a row, each of the dead holding hands with the next, so they weren't alone, even in death.

Within five days of Sophia, everyone had died but poor young Olivia. She had struggled to drag the body of Karen into the line but had dutifully done just that. After that, she waited. She waited, and she waited. The silence was overwhelming, and she was scared. Alone, afraid, and young. Never before had she felt so much like a child and longed for the life that had been ahead of her, even if it was just marrying an older Indian man like her parents wanted. It was a funny thing, dying so slowly. It made her appreciate everything she had had, even the things she had hated. It was not that long ago that Olivia would’ve welcomed death, but things had changed, she had changed, and now the only thing she could think was that all her plants would die at home without her careful dedication. For her, it was like falling asleep, slowly closing her eyes in the silence, the only sound her own dry breaths. No, there was another sound. Something had rustled, something else had moved in that small, cold tomb. Olivia forced her eyes open for just a second longer, just long enough to see from the far end of the line someone sit up. Sophia's voice called her name. Believing it a hallucination Olivia closed her eyes and fell into the deep sleep that was death.

Francis Chan Meets Some Jehovah's Witnesses | [2012]

How do Jehovah's Witnesses react when they meet someone really excited about GOD & the BIBLE & they want to talk about it?

Often times they can't run away fast enough. 

Are they really looking for people who love GOD & love the BIBLE -or are they just looking for people who will blindly submit themselves to their doctrine?

I have something, I assume you've heard I shared the story a while ago how just a few months ago I was working in my front yard fixing some things & some Jehovah's Witnesses come by & they say, “Hey can we talk to you?”

I'm fixing things, of course, how can that yeah:

      I've got some things to say to you too, you know.       Let's talk, no seriously because I just think you're       some human beings I need to love on them,       they're trying to love on me.

And so they start sharing some things & I just said,

      “Hey can I tell you, can I just tell you a couple things       that GOD's done in my life recently.

      Just just a couple things, I mean this will blow       your mind, let me just tell you about some       answers to prayer that just happened like last week.

And this lady goes,

      “You know GOD doesn't listen to everyone's prayers.”

And I said, you know what,

      “Actually biblically you're right on. I go James 1 says       that if we doubt, HE's not going to listen to us. [1:00]

      James 4 says if we asked with the wrong motives,       HE's not going to listen to us.

      First Peter 3 says if I don't honour my wife, man my       prayers are going to be hindered.

      HE says in Isaiah 58, if I don't care for the poor,       doesn't mean if I fast & pray, HE's not listening. [1:16]

      Yeah I go in Amos, HE says, "Ah I didn't even want to       hear the noise of your songs; you know, I'm not going       to listen to that!”

      HE says if MY people would humble themselves,       you know, & turn from their wicked ways.

I mean there's conditions here.

      You're absolutely right, HE does not listen to       every prayer, but HE listens to mine [1:37]

And I said, & I tell this one story this thing that happens & she's like wow. I go,

      “Explain that, why is it HE listening to me,       you know, and & she goes:       ‘Let's get out of here.’” [1:55]

And so her friends start walking away, I go,

      “Actually if you don't mind I'd like to walk with       you because I have some more stories." [2:04]

Because I didn't want them to just walk away, I want them to know.

I just people to know this JESUS, because

      there is nothing like answered prayer.

There's nothing like,

      “No way I just spoke to GOD &       HE listened to me, I mean that's       my favourite thing on earth.

      When I ask for something like, who? shut up!       GOD just listened to me & look what HE did?!

      You can't explain this away, & so I'm telling them       these stories as I'm walking with them.

Man I went like a block & a half just telling them & one of them looks at me, she goes, “What are you?” [2:42]

Is you one of them Pentecostals? (lol)

      And I go, "Don't worry about it.”

I go,

      “Here's all you need to know about me, I'm a human       being just like you & I get alone with that BOOK       I get alone with the BIBLE & I just read it &, &&

      I see stuff I'm supposed to do..& I do it, &       I pray to that GOD (YHWH) in that BIBLE, that       JESUS who died on that cross for me & I just...

      I just read that & I prayed it to HIM       & HE listens to me. [3:15]

      And HE changed me &       everything HE's done in my life,       HE just blows my mind! [3:21]

And she goes, “That's your problem.”

That was literally what she said, “That's your problem” she goes, “You read that BOOK by yourself.”

She goes,

      “You can't understand that BOOK,       unless one of our leaders explains it to you.”

And I said, “See that's your problem.” [3:40]

No, I said, “You're putting all of your trust in someone else,”

I go,

      “Do you understand this is about your eternity.       This is about Heaven & Hell, & you are putting       all your trust in what someone else tells you!”

[4:00] And you understand, man,

      I think we, some of us in the room do this.

Some of the things we believe, & do & hold so dear is not because we found it in this BOOK (the BIBLE).

      It's because someone told us &       I'm not saying we don't listen to people       who know more than we do.

Man I think there's a time to listen, but at the same time, you know, I see a lot of believers just grabbing on & listening to someone because they're a popular speaker or listening to someone because he's a good singer.

      Someone appears really intelligent,       you know quote some Greek words       that you don't know any better.

You go, okay I guess, & you just start listening & you just follow these supposed scholars & just like I told those ladies,

      “Look you would never come up with some of these       conclusions if you just read this BOOK (The BIBLE)       over & over again.

You, I mean right now, you guys believe that Michael & JESUS are the same person (Spirit), you really would have got that from the BIBLE?!

You only believe that because someone told you, “if you put this verse over here, isn't that kind of this thing?”

Yeah I go, man just read it for yourself! [5:11]

Miami, Florida Conference

Another Ending - Chapter II

Summary: Madison grieves as if she was sure someone she loved just died, but still holds some hope in her chest. She's determined to continue.

~ ~ ~

MADISON

Christmas eve… Beginning of the last week of the year… These are days to celebrate and be happy around your family and friends… but It’s been almost seven months since we last heard of Isa.

Three days after we last communicated with her, both Isaiah and me began to get worried. We attempted to call her several times but her phone number, according to the telephone operator, doesn’t even exist and I’m completely sure she'd have informed us if she was about to change her number. We also tried sending her emails but apparently the email address that she used to use doesn’t exist neither. Her Twitter and Facebook accounts has been deleted as well.

We reported the case to the Police after a week but they informed us that her NID corresponds to a man that died twelve years ago (creepy, isn’t it?). They took us as crazy people and sent us back home with a warning of not bothering them with false reports.

My brother is devastated, he won’t even talk to me or eat anything, at least not while I’m present. I miss her too but him being her twin brother… I wonder how someone would feel after losing their other half. His always puffy red eyes make me want to cry as well, but I need to stay strong for him, that’s the less thing I can do.

There’s no way we are imagining the existence of Isabella. She IS real and it’s clear that there’s something fishy going on so right now so I’m finally convinced that travelling to the Capital in order to search clues around her sudden disappearance from the world is what I must do.

Maybe someone kidnapped her? Maybe she’s not even… No. That’s not an option, MC, focus. Unless I find her corpse, that will never be an option. If we were dealing with the first case scenario, what kind of kidnapper would erase even her birth certificate from the government information system? A Hacker? Why would a hacker be after my little sister? Millions of questions like these crossed my mind for months now, but nothing makes sense. Isa wa- Isa is one of the most trustworthy and kind persons I’ve ever known. She’s naive and would help anyone she considers in need, that’s why I had always told her to be more suspicious around others because, otherwise, she’d get hurt and... now that I think about it, my warnings meant shit: something bad did happen now and I don’t have a clue on how to proceed forward.

Why would some illegal association or a hacker or whatever be related to her?

I’ve been in need to get my thoughts straight. I need to take a break. I’ve been stressing out for so long, nearly able to sleep and, if I keep going like this, I won’t live enough to discover the truth (I feel like I’m already losing hair, to be honest).

I believe that shutting up my computer and going to take a coffee will be for the best and that’s what I’m going to do.

.     .     .

Before exiting the apartment where we both, Isaiah and me, live I took a shower where I let myself relax for a bit, letting the hot water plant soft kisses on my skin while the steam made its job in opening my pores. After that, I put on some clothes and dried my hair. I waved my brother as before going, but he didn’t even look at me.

Me being so lost in my own thoughts, again, I didn’t realise I already reached the coffee store I was looking for so I enter.

“Madi! How you’re doing?” My best friend, Michael, greets me. He has been working in this café, which belongs to his mother, for almost five years and it’s always comforting hearing his voice. “How’s your research, MC? Any news around princess ?” Since we’re childhood friends, he knows my sister as well as I know her; I bet he remembers when we played together as kids: in Halloween, the twins would be the serial candy collectors from the whole neighborhood, always wearing matching costumes that melted everyone's hearts, and we were the mafia that ended up eating everything and end getting sick the following morning because of all the candy we’d get.

He has been by my side in my darkest days and helped me out whenever I needed anything: a hug, a shoulder to cry, a house where to stay and his family even lended me money when our uncle kicked my siblings and me out a couple of years ago.

I hadn’t noticed till now that tears are wetting my face and that Michael was looking me as if he was asking me if it was ok to embrace me… These are the tears I’ve been repressing, that I can’t show anyone else other than him since I can’t even try hiding my emotions around Michael, he knows me better than myself and I’m genuinely glad he does, I’m so lucky to have someone like him...

“MC?”

“Don’t worry, Michael, I’m fine. And no, I still have no clues around Isa but I’m thinking of going to the Capital soon, maybe if I check her department…”

“Then I’ll go with ya, girl.” He’s smiling now but I can notice that his really worried. He doesn’t want me to go alone to a place where someone disappeared, maybe he’s wondering if I’d have the same fate.

“I don’t know Michael… You see, It’s my si-”

“I know, but you’ll need help. ‘Two Players Mode’ is always better than ‘Single Player Mode’, we can search for clues together!” He interrupted me and finished his point and, even he’s right, I need to convince him that I can do it alone. As for the way he expressed He’s an informatics student as well, so silly jokes concerning games are natural when talking to him.

“I can take care of myself but thanks for your concern, buddy.” I fake a smile and he rolls his eyes. I can tell he’s not please with my resolution.

“Then hot chocolate or cappuccino?” As I said, he knows me well.

“cappuccino, with extra chocolate.”

“White chocolate or black chocolate?” I bet he know what I’ll answer… “Black chocolate it is.” Bingo!

“Hey… What time is it? I didn’t even bring my phone.” I notice it’s starting to get dark outside, and I don’t want to return late.

“Almost 8 p.m., we’re closing in a hour but you can stay as long as you want, honey. You can even spend the night here, you know? Tomorrow being Christmas day and that shit.” I roll my eyes. Can someone like me actually celebrate Christmas?

“I’m not in mood, Mich, but thanks for the offer anyways.” He hands me my cappuccino and I slowly drink it, enjoying the sweet flavor the chocolate adds to it. I see him flashing a little smile from the corner of my eye, probably glad I seemed to relax a bit.

I sweared, back then, that there was no way we could spend a worse Christmas.

This year I’ve proved myself wrong.

Atleast back then we could held each other.

Jesus Household Headcanons

A/N: I know that in Heaven Hears, I mentioned that Jeremiah’s wife died giving birth, but I really wanted a happy and alive Jesus family in this one.

If I’ve said anything offensive or incorrect, I apologise and would appreciate it if you could correct me so I can change it. 

 I’m trying out a new format, hope you enjoy! Xx

Jeremiah was the stereotypical Church boy who somehow managed to become best friends with the Peaky Blinders and the Shelby family. When he finished school, Rose got Arthur Sr to give him a job as a bookkeeper 

He met his wife, Angela, at Church when he was twenty-ish, He was a flustered mess, bless him, stuttering and faffing with his shirt sleeve. Angela, however, is all confidence and smirks (where else did Isaiah get it from?) as she asked him to go to the pictures with her

The rest is pretty much history. They were the cutest couple in Small Heath, giving each other pet names and picking up flowers for their dates

When they got married, Rose Shelby asked whether he’d got her up the duff, resulting in a whole lot of Good Christian Boy jokes that the entire Shelby clan tease him about- even Pol!

Angela found it funny when the Shelbys came over to eat, cause they could never stand the spices and her and Jeremiah would have to bite their lips to suppress their giggles as she asked if Tommy wanted another glass of water

Isaiah was a miracle baby. Because of a previous illness, they didn’t think Angela could get pregnant. Suffice to say, there was a massive celebration at the Garrison when the doctors confirmed it, and Jeremiah just could not stop smiling

He was born on Christmas Day 1905, and Angela thought it was appropriate that his middle name was Nicholas (Jeremiah didn’t really care what they called him, as long as his baby boy was safe in his arms)

The Shelby brothers take the absolute piss out of him for that and always make fun of the Church boy with Jesus’ name born on Jesus’ birthday. They didn’t stop as Isaiah got older, either, always nicknaming him ‘Emmanuel’ and ‘Christ child’, and John being the little shit he is would also hum like an organ tune under his breath whenever Angela rolled little Isaiah into Watery Lane in his little stroller

Despite the jokes, they all loved Isaiah (especially teenager John, who kept on saying he was going to be the best big brother to little Siah) and Polly always invited Angela around, letting Michael play with the baby, both of them saying how their boys were going to be best friends when they grow up

Since Jeremiah is Jamaican and Angela is a light-skinned black woman who doesn’t know her roots, they raise Isaiah with a blend of their two different cultures, teaching him to be proud of his heritage and his skin colour (he took after his mum in that area too)

Isaiah was a huge mamma’s boy when he was younger, but when Jeremiah came home from war, he never left his side

Finn and Isaiah grew up playing together, since their families were close, and the age difference never seemed to bother them until Isaiah became a teenager and started hanging out more with kids his age, and Michael when he came back

When Jeremiah went to war, he was inconsolable, spending most of the time with Finn, who was equally as distressed for his brothers and uncle. They went to the Cut to cry where no one could see, but then they always went back to Angela, who would hug them both and tell them that it wasn’t unmanly to cry, and then make them some food to get them to smile

Two months after they went to war, Angela found out she was pregnant (there was a huge baby boom that year...I think you can figure out why)

Jeremiah cried when he found out. He was so upset that he wouldn’t be there when the baby was born, or see the baby grow up in those first few years

John was there to console him, as he understood with four kids waiting at home for him, especially the newborn Katie

“We might miss those firsts, mate, and it will be fuckin’ awful when we go back and there’s our child who’s grown so much without us...but, the thing is, we’re fighting for them, Miah. We’re fighting so they can live and so we can go back an be a part of their lives.”

Delilah Rose Jesus was born on Easter Day 1915

As expected, the boys in the trenches took the piss out of him for that too

“Two miracle babies born on holy days! Y’know what boys, I might just start going to Church if God’s as good as that!”

“Freddie, if you ever willingly walked into a Church, you’d set on fire sooner than you could do the sign of the cross!”

Isaiah would always write to his dad about how he was taking care of his little sister, writing things like “Mum let me hold Lilah today when we went to the betting shop and she said I did a really good job, supporting her head and keeping her safe, even if she weighs as much as a sack of potatoes” and, he proudly read this out to the Shelby brothers: “Finn wanted to hold Lilah today but I wouldn’t let him. He had a right paddy but  I reminded him about the Nativity incident and that my baby sister wasn’t plastic and would do more than melt if he dropped her in the candles!”

When they got home, Jeremiah immediately quit his job at the betting shop (he worked the books like his son would eventually take up) to become a preacher. This meant he could stay at home and look after Delilah and Isaiah when Angela went to teach at the local school, and he’d even bring the four year old along when he walked down Small Heath, teaching her the Bible as he recited phrases for everyone to hear

Being black in the 1920s wasn't easy, but with the Shelby protection, the family were always safe. When Isaiah got older, he started working the books in the betting shop and earned himself a cap to keep him and his family safe- it didn’t matter what colour your skin was, no one messed with a Blinder

Although Isaiah did enjoy a lot of the perks of being a Blinder (drinking, girls, parties, snow), his parents were both very proud of him and never tried to tell him he was wrong or sinning (although Jeremiah was always very worried about his son, staying up until he heard him come home)

Alongside his work at the betting shop, Isaiah also helped his dad out at the Church as a youth worker for the kids. Delilah was a part of the group, so he started it out to keep an eye on her, but ended up really enjoying teaching these little kids about the Bible and, since the group had a lot of ethnic minorities in it, he loved being a role model for them and teaching them that God loves them and their skin colour, just as his mum and  dad taught him

Delilah looks a lot like her dad with darker skin and her hair always up in braids since it gets in her face too much otherwise. She was a bit wild, always running about with John’s kids and having fun outdoors, and she loves Charlie’s Yard. She wants to be a mechanic when she’s older, so she always gets Charlie or Arthur to show her how things work

Angela gets Delilah to fix broken clocks and the like, sitting at the table as she watched her daughter take them apart and put them back together

As Isaiah got a better position in the Peaky Blinders and more money, he started to bring back little treats for his family. He bought his dad the rosary that he always wears after Jeremiah’s old one was broken in war. He likes to buy his mum flowers and little pretty things that caught his eye. For Delilah, he got her soft toys and mechanical things for her to wind up and play about with

The Jesus family were happy. There was a lot of danger in their life, with the discrimination in Birmingham and the razor blades in their son’s cap, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

to know the real God

and be known by Him, our Father and Creator.

A treasured point Paul makes in his Letter of Galatians with Today’s reading in chapter 4:

Let me show you the implications of this. As long as the heir is a minor, he has no advantage over the slave. Though legally he owns the entire inheritance, he is subject to tutors and administrators until whatever date the father has set for emancipation. That is the way it is with us: When we were minors, we were just like slaves ordered around by simple instructions (the tutors and administrators of this world), with no say in the conduct of our own lives.

But when the time arrived that was set by God the Father, God sent his Son, born among us of a woman, born under the conditions of the law so that he might redeem those of us who have been kidnapped by the law. Thus we have been set free to experience our rightful heritage. You can tell for sure that you are now fully adopted as his own children because God sent the Spirit of his Son into our lives crying out, “Papa! Father!” Doesn’t that privilege of intimate conversation with God make it plain that you are not a slave, but a child? And if you are a child, you’re also an heir, with complete access to the inheritance.

Earlier, before you knew God personally, you were enslaved to so-called gods that had nothing of the divine about them. But now that you know the real God—or rather since God knows you—how can you possibly subject yourselves again to those paper tigers? For that is exactly what you do when you are intimidated into scrupulously observing all the traditions, taboos, and superstitions associated with special days and seasons and years. I am afraid that all my hard work among you has gone up in a puff of smoke!

My dear friends, what I would really like you to do is try to put yourselves in my shoes to the same extent that I, when I was with you, put myself in yours. You were very sensitive and kind then. You did not come down on me personally. You were well aware that the reason I ended up preaching to you was that I was physically broken, and so, prevented from continuing my journey, I was forced to stop with you. That is how I came to preach to you.

And don’t you remember that even though taking in a sick guest was most troublesome for you, you chose to treat me as well as you would have treated an angel of God—as well as you would have treated Jesus himself if he had visited you? What has happened to the satisfaction you felt at that time? There were some of you then who, if possible, would have given your very eyes to me—that is how deeply you cared! And now have I suddenly become your enemy simply by telling you the truth? I can’t believe it.

Those heretical teachers go to great lengths to flatter you, but their motives are rotten. They want to shut you out of the free world of God’s grace so that you will always depend on them for approval and direction, making them feel important.

It is a good thing to be ardent in doing good, but not just when I am in your presence. Can’t you continue the same concern for both my person and my message when I am away from you that you had when I was with you? Do you know how I feel right now, and will feel until Christ’s life becomes visible in your lives? Like a mother in the pain of childbirth. Oh, I keep wishing that I was with you. Then I wouldn’t be reduced to this blunt, letter-writing language out of sheer frustration.

Tell me now, you who have become so enamored with the law: Have you paid close attention to that law? Abraham, remember, had two sons: one by the slave woman and one by the free woman. The son of the slave woman was born by human connivance; the son of the free woman was born by God’s promise. This illustrates the very thing we are dealing with now. The two births represent two ways of being in relationship with God. One is from Mount Sinai in Arabia. It corresponds with what is now going on in Jerusalem—a slave life, producing slaves as offspring. This is the way of Hagar. In contrast to that, there is an invisible Jerusalem, a free Jerusalem, and she is our mother—this is the way of Sarah. Remember what Isaiah wrote:

Rejoice, barren woman who bears no children,

shout and cry out, woman who has no birth pangs,

Because the children of the barren woman

now surpass the children of the chosen woman.

Isn’t it clear, friends, that you, like Isaac, are children of promise? In the days of Hagar and Sarah, the child who came from faithless connivance (Ishmael) harassed the child who came—empowered by the Spirit—from the faithful promise (Isaac). Isn’t it clear that the harassment you are now experiencing from the Jerusalem heretics follows that old pattern? There is a Scripture that tells us what to do: “Expel the slave mother with her son, for the slave son will not inherit with the free son.” Isn’t that conclusive? We are not children of the slave woman, but of the free woman.

The Letter of Galatians, Chapter 4 (The Message)

and paired with this is chapter 46 in the book of Genesis where we read of Joseph reuniting with his father Jacob (who was renamed Israel):

So Israel set out on the journey with everything he owned. He arrived at Beersheba and worshiped, offering sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac.

God spoke to Israel in a vision that night: “Jacob! Jacob!”

“Yes?” he said. “I’m listening.”

God said, “I am the God of your father. Don’t be afraid of going down to Egypt. I’m going to make you a great nation there. I’ll go with you down to Egypt; I’ll also bring you back here. And when you die, Joseph will be with you; with his own hand he’ll close your eyes.”

Then Jacob left Beersheba. Israel’s sons loaded their father and their little ones and their wives on the wagons Pharaoh had sent to carry him. They arrived in Egypt with the livestock and the wealth they had accumulated in Canaan. Jacob brought everyone in his family with him—sons and grandsons, daughters and granddaughters. Everyone.

These are the names of the Israelites, Jacob and his descendants, who went to Egypt:

Reuben, Jacob’s firstborn.

Reuben’s sons: Hanoch, Pallu, Hezron, and Carmi.

Simeon’s sons: Jemuel, Jamin, Ohad, Jakin, Zohar, and Shaul the son of a Canaanite woman.

Levi’s sons: Gershon, Kohath, and Merari.

Judah’s sons: Er, Onan, Shelah, Perez, and Zerah (Er and Onan had already died in the land of Canaan). The sons of Perez were Hezron and Hamul.

Issachar’s sons: Tola, Puah, Jashub, and Shimron.

Zebulun’s sons: Sered, Elon, and Jahleel.

These are the sons that Leah bore to Jacob in Paddan Aram. There was also his daughter Dinah. Altogether, sons and daughters, they numbered thirty-three.

Gad’s sons: Zephon, Haggi, Shuni, Ezbon, Eri, Arodi, and Areli.

Asher’s sons: Imnah, Ishvah, Ishvi, and Beria. Also their sister Serah, and Beriah’s sons, Heber and Malkiel.

These are the children that Zilpah, the maid that Laban gave to his daughter Leah, bore to Jacob—sixteen of them.

The sons of Jacob’s wife Rachel were Joseph and Benjamin. Joseph was the father of two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, from his marriage to Asenath daughter of Potiphera, priest of On. They were born to him in Egypt. Benjamin’s sons were Bela, Beker, Ashbel, Gera, Naaman, Ehi, Rosh, Muppim, Huppim, and Ard.

These are the children born to Jacob through Rachel—fourteen.

Dan’s son: Hushim.

Naphtali’s sons: Jahziel, Guni, Jezer, and Shillem.

These are the children born to Jacob through Bilhah, the maid Laban had given to his daughter Rachel—seven.

Summing up, all those who went down to Egypt with Jacob—his own children, not counting his sons’ wives—numbered sixty-six. Counting in the two sons born to Joseph in Egypt, the members of Jacob’s family who ended up in Egypt numbered seventy.

Jacob sent Judah on ahead to get directions to Goshen from Joseph. When they got to Goshen, Joseph gave orders for his chariot and went to Goshen to meet his father Israel. The moment Joseph saw him, he threw himself on his neck and wept. He wept a long time.

Israel said to Joseph, “I’m ready to die. I’ve looked into your face—you are indeed alive.”

Joseph then spoke to his brothers and his father’s family. “I’ll go and tell Pharaoh, ‘My brothers and my father’s family, all of whom lived in Canaan, have come to me. The men are shepherds; they’ve always made their living by raising livestock. And they’ve brought their flocks and herds with them, along with everything else they own.’ When Pharaoh calls you in and asks what kind of work you do, tell him, ‘Your servants have always kept livestock for as long as we can remember—we and our parents also.’ That way he’ll let you stay apart in the area of Goshen—for Egyptians look down on anyone who is a shepherd.”

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 46 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, march 13 of 2020 with a paired chapter from each Testament along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

Onyango Simba Lyons -- Character Sheet

and he shall be Levon / and he shall be a good man / and he shall be Levon / in tradition with the family plan / and he shall be Levon / and he shall be a good man / he shall be Levon

Levon's sells cartoon balloons in town / his family business thrives / Jesus blows up balloons all day / sits on the porch swing watching them fly / and Jesus, he wants to go to Venus / leave Levon far behind / take a balloon and go sailing...

Archetype — The Hero Birthday — August 18, 1991 Zodiac Sign — Leo MBTI — ESFJ Enneagram — 8, the Challenger Temperament —  Choleric Hogwarts House — Gryffindor Moral Alignment — Lawful Good Primary Vice — Wrath Primary Virtue — Charity Element — Fire

Overview:

Mother — Sarabi Lyons (nee Adoyo) (Jaden Pickett Smith FC) Father — Mufasa Lyons (deceased) (Isaiah Washington FC) Mother’s Occupation — Homemaker (though she has a masters in Cultural Anthropology) Father’s Occupation — former CEO of InterPride Family Finances — extremely wealthy Birth Order — only child Brothers —  none Sisters — Nala (honorary) Other Close Family — here’s a list of Simba’s family! Best Friend — Nala Calame, Berlioz Bonfamille, Silvermist Jeon, Jane Porter, Pegasus Hippoi Other Friends — don’t make me list them all, i beg of you Enemies — Taka Lyons Pets — Bowie, golden retriever, a little over a year old, male. Home Life During Childhood — Very happy. Simba grew up with two loving parents, who were also very much in love. Even though Mufasa worked often, he was home almost every night and always stayed for dinner and to tuck Simba in at night. It was hard on him when he had to go to boarding school, which was the turning point for him. Town or City Name(s) — Swynlake, England; London, England What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — His childhood bedroom was massive and it had all sorts of toys in it--it was always messy because Simba loved playing with his toys. His bedsheets were always colorful, kind of a patchwork design. He had these fading African animal decals from when his bedroom was a nursery, that are still there though they’re peeling away. It’s light blue. Any Sports or Clubs — Simba was in a TON of clubs like literally almost any club you could think of. He was captain of the rugby team and the football team both in secondary and uni. He also did rowing, polo, and cricket. Favorite Toy or Game — Simba’s favorite is football. He really liked rugby and horse riding too. Schooling — Swynlake Primary, expensive co-ed boarding school in London from the time he was 10-18, graduated Oxford University with a BA in Business. Favorite Subject — History Popular or Loner — Popular, everyone knew who he was Important Experiences or Events — Going to boarding school, accepting his fate as CEO (at 16), his father dying, meeting Berlioz, finding out Taka killed Mufasa. Nationality — born English, his paternal grandmother was American, his maternal grandmother is Yemeni, and his paternal grandfather is Kenyan Culture — Kenyan, he believes in big families, that family is most important. Religion and beliefs — Muslim, but also kind of a more spiritual version of it. He prays three times a day, but doesn’t beat himself up if he misses one. He keeps himself very clean. He reads the Qu’ran. He doesn’t eat pork. He practices shahada, salat, zalat, sawm, and he took a Hajj when he was 18 with his mom and some cousins. But, at the same time, he doesn’t believe the harsher views that some Muslims hold, his is a more all-encompassing, full of love version.

Physical Appearance

Face Claim —  Alfred Enoch Complexion — He had some acne in his teen years and he definitely didn’t take care of it properly so he has some scarring on his cheeks. Otherwise, he has a beautiful coppery complexion Hair Colour — Black Eye Colour — Brown Height — 6’4 Build — Sporty, he’s still pretty gangly with too much limb but he’s also pretty broad and filled out, sinewy. Tattoos — none but not opposed Piercings — none Common Hairstyle — keeps his hair short but long enough that it is a bit of a fro, keeps it well groomed (he’s obsessive), has a beard about 7ish months out of the year spring/summer. Keeps it short but full. Clothing Style — Colorful! Simba loves color. He wears lots of fun patterns too. But he dresses pretty “preppy” and classic, wears a lot of khakis, but more fitted Mannerisms — gracefully clumsy, he trips but manages to make it look graceful, knocks things over but picks them up before they even fall all the way Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Nah, he got his appendix out and that’s the sickest he’s ever been. He is the biggest baby when sick. Physical Ailments — He’s got a bad right knee from an old rugby accident, it acts up sometimes if he puts too much pressure on it or turns it funny. Neurological Conditions — depression/PTSD/ADHD Allergies —  grass/hay. He has super sensitive skin. Grooming Habits — Very, very clean, at all times. He’ll take more than one shower a day (normally one at night and one in the morning, any time after he has sex unless he’s going right to sleep.) He keeps his nails clipped and grooms his hair and beard every day. He uses lotion (well, coconut oil) a lot too bc he’s got kinda dry skin. Sleeping Habits — Simba is a very deep sleeper. He rises early no matter how late he went to sleep and survives on catnaps throughout the day. With his nightmares, he’s much more volatile than he used to be. Sleeps mostly on his back with his legs splayed. Occasionally sleeps on his side. Eating Habits — Will eat anything and everything, any time, any place. Exercise Habits —  Runs a few kilometers both in the morning and in the evening (unless he has something else to do at night.) In the summers he will trade running for swimming, or do a bit of both. He needs to stay active or he’ll idk combust. Emotional Stability — 4 out of 10. Simba is a volatile personality. He’s quick to react--either in anger or excitement, and often steps on toes because of it. He is very easy to provoke into action. Also, after everything that has happened he just overall feels a little broken. Body Temperature — Simba is definitely someone who runs a little warm. Though, he really hates the cold weather. It saps his energy, even if he stays physically warm outwardly. Sociability — Just the friendliest. He’ll strike up a conversation with almost anyone, unless that person inherently goes against his particular ideals, then he is very quick to judge and dismiss someone. Addictions — Alcohol. Drug Use — Smokes pot occasionally; used to do party drugs in secondary/uni recreationally. Not anymore though. Alcohol Use —  lol he’s an alcoholic.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — jumps into things without thinking, always fidgeting, quick to judge people, he’s an alcoholic? lol Good Habits — takes care of the people around him, is generous with his time/money/affection, exercises a lot, is a surprisingly good listener Best Characteristic — his generosity Worst Characteristic — his willingness to spring into action Worst Memory — oh gosh. Definitely waking up in the hospital to find out his father was dead; also finding out Taka was the one who did it; also when Kiara was missing; also when Taka kidnapped Ber...I could go on Best Memory — his dad telling him he was proud of Simba for graduating (bc mufasa knew how hard it was for simba); when ber told him he loved him; getting married--even if he only remembers vague bits; when he won his case against Murphy and Alana and got custody of Kiara...I could go on. Proud of — his little family, Ber and Kiara and Bowie (and Nala, and all his friends by extension); his family legacy (even if he is reluctant to continue it) Embarrassed by — not a lot tbh, when he isn’t strong, when he feels weak Driving Style — Now, Simba is a very safe driver, but he used to not be. He used to be pretty reckless. He had an Austin Healy that could get up to like 120mph (idk what that is in kilometers fight me), and he’d drive as fast as he could all the time. Though...tbh now that he knows he didn’t kill his dad he may get another roadster and fix it up (Simba loves cars.) Strong Points — he’s a generally strong person; he’s full of love and isn’t afraid to share it; is a genuinely caring person Temperament — he’s pretty laidback, though, he’s also kinda highstrung lmao. He’s quick to anger, though he only yells when he’s scared about something. If he’s truly angry he has this really callous and cold kind of anger. Attitude — Generally optimistic, though he’s gotten more pessimistic lately. He has a good drive. Weakness — he gets taken advantage of by being nice and he also jumps the gun a lot; also it’s hard for him to admit to being weak, which means he shoves things down and doesn’t process them Fears — that he will fail and not make people proud. Phobias — he doesn’t like snakes, or the dark really. Secrets — none, not really, not anymore Regrets — wasting so much time after his father died; hurting the people around him; not figuring out Taka sooner Feels Vulnerable When — he feels vulnerable. lmao Pet Peeves — people who don’t listen to him LMAO or pay attention to him, life is hard, ain’t it simba? Conflicts — what he wants to do VS what is the best for everyone else VS what is best for his Family Legacy Motivation — to keep the people he loves safe and happy Short Term Goals and Hopes — live and love and heal from the past four years Long Term Goals and Hopes — marry Ber (and have kids with him) Sexuality —  Bisexual, and he’s pretty 50/50 on it, though he may sway more towards boys tbh. He doesn’t give a lot of thought to it because he’s also hella demi, so he doesn’t think about anyone else. At this point he might as well be Bersexual. Day or Night Person — Day, definitely. Though, he does catnap because he has the ability to stay up late/he has nightmares. Introvert or Extrovert — The biggest extrovert. Optimist or Pessimist — Kind of 50/50, he’s optimistic to other people, but about his own life he can be rather pessimistic.

Likes and Styles:

Music — favorite artist is Elton John. He likes older music a lot--Paul Simon, Nina Simone. But, he likes newer stuff too. He’s a fan of acoustic, but he also likes things that he can jam to. Basically, he’s got a wide range just depending on his mood, and it’s getting even wider as Ber introduces him to new stuff. Books — Simba doesn’t like reading (mostly because he thinks he’s bad at it, his reading comprehension is pretty low), but he reads the Qu’ran pretty much always on like a constant loop. Sometimes he asks Ber to read to him after he’s had a nightmare, but that’s more for the sound of Ber’s voice. Oh, his mum used to read him King Arthur stories as a kid, so he likes those too. Magazines — Simba is eh about magazines for the same reason he’s eh about reading Foods — Simba will eat ANYTHING but his favorites are sweet peppers. He loves sweet peppers. He’s also got a massive sweet tooth, so he loves chocolate. Drinks — Waterrr. Simba drinks a ton of water. (His fave alcoholic bev is whiskey js). He also likes juice--apple juice, orange juice, etc. Drinks coconut water too Animals — Lions! Simba loves lions, but he also loves elephants and dogs and all animals are good to Simba. Except snakes. Fuck snakes. Sports — gosh, i mean simba plays/played/will play any sport. He loves sports. His favorites are football and horse riding Social Issues — Simba is very passionate about Magick-rights, LGBTQIA rights, and he’ll be the first to speak out about systematic racism and islamophobia.   Favorite Saying — “It were better to have an army of sheep led by a lion than an army of lions led by a sheep.” -- Proverb, unknown. Color — Gold! Also burgundy. Jewelry — He has a watch that was his father’s that he’ll probably wear now. He also has woven bracelets from Kenya that he wears usually. Games — most of the games simba likes to play are outdoors, tossing balls around, he doesn’t have a lot of patience of card games/board games, he’s very competitive. Websites — eh he’s not big on the internet, probably surfs facebook and by proxy buzzfeed the most TV Shows — likes shitty reality telly, probably watches football god that’s awful. Doesn’t have a whole lot of shows that he follows bc they don’t keep his attention Movies — he loves musicals or romances or action films. Anything that’ll keep his attention the whole way through. He’s not good with like slow or nuanced stories. Greatest Want — to take care of those around him Greatest Need — to reconcile his family legacy with his own wants.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — a lakeside cabin, it’s got three floors; 5 bedrooms (though one is Ber’s studio now); an observatory at the very top, a game room with a full on theatre system. He owns about two acres of land, but he hardly has a backyard or front yard because it is almost all trees. Household furnishings — Everything is bright, though it’s gotten a bit of a modern touch to it now that Ber has moved in. All the walls are wood, so none of them are painted (though Ber’s studio will probably get soundproof walls and therefore will be painted.) He’s got colorful tapestries from Kenya all over, as well as pottery and artistic paintings of the savannah. The furnishings are based on his cabin that his family owns in Kenya. It’s all warm colors, very cozy and inviting despite its sheer size and high ceilings. Favorite Possession — The note he keeps in his wallet that Ber wrote for him last Christmas. Most Cherished Possession — Anything of his dad’s. Neighborhood — Jim is his next door neighbor, but it’s still a few minutes to get to his house since all the houses around the lake are pretty spread out. Town or City Name — Swynlake, Wiltshire County Details of Town or City — Magick-friendly. His family helped found the place 1001 years ago. Married Before — ...technically yes? To Ber, for less than 24 hours... Significant Other Before — Catherine (broke up with him because he was “too nice”, dated for six months 16), Kamaria (broke up with him bc she moved away, his most amicable break up, dated for a year, 17-18), Megan (broke up with him bc she realized getting his money would not be as easy as she thought it would be, dated for a year, 19-20), Andrew (broke up because Andrew didn’t want to be his “housewife”, dated for a year and three months, 20-21). Children — none; though he is legally Kiara’s primary guardian. Relationship with Family — Simba is very close with his mom’s side of the family and sees them whenever he can. He was very close with his paternal grandparents until they died. Estranged from his Aunt Alana and his Uncle Taka bc they’re both shitty people/ Car — A 2017 Maserati Levante named Tracy (Chapman). He used to have a 1963 blue Austin Healey 3000 named Kasi Pepo (Speed Demon in Swahili). (Will probably get a new roadster soon, tbh.) Career — (soon to be) CEO of InterPride Incorporated Dream Career — Primary School Teacher Dream Life — A primary school teacher, married to Ber, raising their (kids) dogs. Love Life — Happily dating Berlioz Bonfamille. A year and 5 months today and still going strong. They have lots of sex and love each other v v much. Talents or Skills — really good at math? An excellent cook, a great dancer. Good at thinking on his feet. Intelligence Level — Simba is a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for. He is very people savvy, even if he isn’t booksmart. He’s got a strategic and analytical mind when he’s at his best. Finances — Literally just so rich, disgustingly rich like 9 zeroes rich.

Your Character’s Life Before Your Story:

Past Careers — Bartender at Pixie’s, volunteer at his Aunt’s home for abused children, head of several clubs at school, and an intern at InterPride. Biggest Mistakes — lol so many Biggest Achievements — graduating university; seriously that was a big thing for Simba he was so proud of himself bc he thought he couldn’t do it.

PSA

Hi kids!

This is a gentle public service announcement to let you all know that I’m no longer engaging in any more discourse about the kink meme. 

This has become a really polarizing topic, I think the fandom’s collective ability to discuss it in a constructive way has eroded quite a bit, and the “callout posts” about it have themselves begun to feed an alarming amount of sensitive or triggering content into public social media spaces, which, quite frankly, runs a far higher risk of landing in front of the eyeballs of someone who needs to avoid it than when it’s safely quarantined in spaces like LiveJournal and Ao3.

It is staying open for at least the next couple weeks, and I intend to keep writing Kabby fic for it and sharing that fic here, as well as on Ao3.  I’m a big proponent of people curating their own social media spaces, so if you need to unfollow, block, blacklist, etc. because that is a nope for you, that doesn’t bug me in the least and I don’t take it personally.  We all have to know where our boundaries are.

A few last words on this topic and then I’m done. 

(P.S. this post contains no potentially triggering references to any of the specific kinks or fics in question.  It’s safe for all.)

There are many fics on the kink meme and Ao3 that I can’t and won’t ever read.  There are many kinks that squick me out.  But if you’re asking me to condemn specific writers or specific fics because they upset you, just know I’m never going to do that.  Even if it’s a fic I would never read myself.  My position is always going to be that I’m a writer and I stand with writers.  Even when I disagree.  Even when what they wrote squicks me out. 

“But what about this kink? Surely you can’t defend that writer.” 

Yes I can. 

“Okay, but what about this???  This very upsetting thing involving your favorite character?” 

Yeah, even that one. 

Free speech is most important when it isn’t convenient.  It’s most important when you have to go to bat for the rights of people to say shit that makes you want to die inside.  It’s why the ACLU defends Westboro Baptist Church.  If I only held to my values when it related to people who agreed with me and did exactly what I approve of, then they’re not values, they’re personal tastes I’m trying to legislate on everyone else.

My best friend and I were discussing this on Twitter yesterday when this cropped up over there.  We have very, very different personal tastes.  As in, there are rarepairs I write for and kinks I enjoy reading that hit some places of really deep “please don’t discuss that fic while I’m in the room” discomfort for her.  And we’ve learned, over the past years, how to be sensitive and respectful to each other about those things.  I offered - without her asking - to write a censored version of one of my fics to remove a personal squick of hers so that she could read it and not feel left out of the fun the rest of the group chat was having.  She, in turn, never once judged or shamed me for writing the thing that made her uncomfortable in the first place . . . which is just as important. It’s crucial to our relationship that, just as I don’t judge her for her preferences, she doesn’t judge me for mine.  And I don’t judge other people for theirs, even when they’re MILES away from things I would ever consider erotic, or even feel comfortable reading.  Because another trigger which is very, very real - which for many of us is deeply lodged within our body and our sense of self - is the trauma of being publicly shamed, outed, maligned, or criminalized for your sexuality.

I am gay, and for eight years I was a youth minister at my church.  When I was in my mid-twenties, an anti-gay hate group found a video clip online of a documentary about LGBT Christians that I had been interviewed for, and they emailed it to the entire staff of the church where I worked, the school, and the office of the diocese.  Until you have been outed by force, against your will, to your pastor, your coworkers, your middle school health teacher, the school moms whose kids are in your youth group, and the fucking Archbishop, with a letter explaining that young people are in danger from your deviant sexuality; until you have been on the receiving end of a campaign of online harassment that went on for four years; until you have read a complete stranger write on her blog, not three months after your mother’s funeral, that she hopes your mom died without knowing she had a gay child, to spare her that humiliation; then you cannot possibly imagine the sense of sexual shame that I have carried for my entire adult life about the idea that the things I do in private behind closed doors, or even the things I think about in the privacy of my own mind, are fundamentally evil and wrong.  

This is why I do not make assumptions or judgments about other people’s sexuality.  There is a wide gulf between the things that turn you on in fiction and things that turn you on when done to live human beings (including not just your own sex life, but any other area such as the sex trade, trafficking, the porn industry, etc., where real human beings may potentially experience harm). 

If I can make a distinction between you enjoying a television show where people have murdered each other without assuming you are a murderer, I’m not going to come after anyone for what they masturbate to, no matter how squicky I find it, by assuming they would practice or endorse criminal sexual behavior in real life.  

If you were in a car accident, it might be really, really traumatic for you to watch movies or TV shows that show graphic depictions of car accidents.  That’s 100% legit.  It would be fair for you to expect a warning about that content so you know what you’re getting into and can skip that episode, close your eyes and look away during that part of the movie, or say “nope this isn’t for me, that’s not content I’m comfortable with.”  And nobody would judge you for that.  However, there are other people who have been in car accidents who might be fine with it.  It might not land in their body the same way.  They might find it cathartic to watch the thing that happened to them from a safe distance in a context which is fictional.  They might process the trauma they went through - which is the same as yours - in a way that looks totally different.  

None of this is universal.  There are no hard-and-fast rules about what sexual fantasies are and aren’t okay.  For example, I know at least two fics which I’ve seen alluded to as being content that should not exist because it triggers survivors of _____, which were written by survivors of that exact thing themselves.  You have every right to protect your own boundaries, but you cannot assume that everyone else’s boundaries are in the same place.  

This blog is and remains a primarily Kabby-only blog which I do care very much about keeping a safe space.  I have always, and will continue to, post occasional fic here with Raven or Bellamy OT3s, and am absolutely happy to help you out if there is a way I can be more helpful in tagging that content for you so you can blacklist it and keep your Tumblr safe if that’s something that makes you uncomfortable.  It is always, always okay to come to me with “hey can you tag this thing so I can filter it.” 

In terms of the kink meme, the fic I’m writing and sharing here is primarily Kabby.  I have written for some other pairings, which you can find on my AO3 in my collection of kink meme fills (Doctor Mechanic, etc.) but this is a Kabby blog designed for Kabby shippers, so the kink meme fics I’m writing are largely for them.  They are also all labeled very carefully when I share them to AO3 with the specific prompt I was filling, and a plethora of tags, in case the kink they’re about hits a button that is a nope for you. 

I am always, always open to helping you guys create safe internet spaces by opening up a conversation about ways I can tag fic more helpfully.  But just as I do not police who anyone sleeps with or what gender(s) they’re attracted to - because I remember on a visceral gut level the shame and trauma I felt when that was done to me - I do not police what anyone masturbates to, fantasizes about, is turned on by, writes about, or reads about.  

Before anyone gets the wrong idea that my inbox has been flooded with assholes, I should be clear that 99% of all the conversations I’ve had on this topic - whether people love the kink meme, hate it, can only handle parts of it, don’t read smut fic at all, or don’t care what anyone else does behind closed doors and just wants to go back to talking about whether Isaiah’s tweet this afternoon legit means Jaha got killed off??? - have been thoughtful and civil and great.  The Kabby fandom is awesome and the majority of the really ugly drama has been swirling around around at a distance from our happy little corner.  But I still get occasional anons about this which seem pretty clearly intended to draw me into conflict I have zero interest in, so I wanted to state, one last time, very clearly, that I’m not going to be engaging in any of those from this point forward, and explain as thoughtfully as I can the reasons why.

MOM LOVES Y’ALL A LOT, THANK YOU FOR BEING AWESOME