#he takes anyone he suspects to be the aforementioned with him and tortures them

[starpros-sunshine]

sometimes I check mdzs twitter and get reminded that there's apparently people who don't realize that ''a victim of circumstance'' is an option in discussing various questions of guilt regarding the characters

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The former God of Magic resents The Mother for sticking him on Earth, and plans on causing as much havoc as he can to punish Her;

Version 2, Dark!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 1, Good!Merlin)

TW: A lot of emotional manipulation, a little violence, a lot of angst.

~

“You’re late.”

The woman’s well practiced blank mask falls into a scowl as she stares at Merlin with mistrust:

“Well, perhaps I was putting off coming to see you, no matter how necessary it is.”

The gang can see the bob of Merlin’s head as he lets out a low chuckle, and they have to stop themselves from recoiling; they’d never heard a noise like that from their young friend before, it sounded almost... cruel.

He lifts a hand to cover his heart as he says in faux offense:

“You wound me, sister. You didn’t want to see your favourite sibling?”

Everyone frowns in confusion, Merlin doesn’t have... siblings. That’s not even mentioning the fact that this woman barely seems human.

The woman doesn’t hide her slight disgust, taking a step back from Merlin and letting out a harsh breath:

“I came here to tell you that you need to hurry up. Time is running out.”

Merlin chuckles again, turning to the side and taking a few short paces, his hands held leisurely behind his back. The amusement on his face is disturbing, and Arthur gulps, not noticing the way Mordred is growing paler and paler by the second. Merlin doesn’t turn to look at the woman as he speaks, and his smirk stretches wider:

“But I’m having so much fun, Ava!”

The woman, Ava, huffs again, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. If the gang weren’t so semi-sure that Merlin wasn’t dangerous, they’d think she looked scared:

“Mother sent you here to complete a task. Get it done, and you can come home. Isn’t that what you want? To come home?”

Merlin’s smirk falls, and the snarl that the gang briefly see on his face before he whips around to face Ava takes their breath away. They barely notice the thunder, snapping in the distance in time with Merlin’s anger:

“Mother’s the one keeping me here in the first place. She could accept me back any time.”

Ava takes another step back, and Merlin tilts his head ever so slightly at the movement, but waits for her to speak:

“As punishment for your cruelty. She isn’t happy, you’re making a mess of things.”

Merlin chuckles again, tilting his head even further, and his words have an immediate chilling effect on the group hiding in the bushes:

“Well, if she insists on sending the God of Chaos to fix a problem, perhaps she should expect a little mess. Plus, I’m having more fun here than I’ve had in centuries. These humans... so gullible.-”

Ava shakes her head mournfully, but before she can say anything, Merlin continues, now pacing calmly around the clearing, waving his hands and grinning in his excitement:

“-I mean, they’re just so... easy. To play with, to manipulate. You know they all trust me? They all come running to naïve, innocent, loving little Merlin, spilling all their secrets as they go. Did you know, the drunkard is the son of a noble? “Fuck nobility” my arse, he is nobility.-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw and looks to the floor, ignoring the stares of Arthur and Leon, but before anything can be muttered, Merlin continues, listing their greatest secrets off on his fingers:

“-The gentle giant is terrified that someone’s going to find out that his preferences lie with men, which is ridiculous considering the way he stares at the aforementioned drunkard when he thinks no one but little old me is watching. The blacksmith, even years on, is terrified that his whore sister will never forgive him for... something or other, I wasn’t really paying attention. Camelot’s first, The King’s most trusted, has a debilitating fear of heights, and oh if it isn’t just hilarious to watch when he has to patrol the city walls. And then, there’s the-”

Ava rolls her mournful eyes and interrupts him:

“Your point, Em?”

Merlin laughs, fully and from the belly, but the sound doesn’t bring the gang joy like it normally does:

“My point, is that I’ve got these idiots wrapped around my finger. Mortals: the universe’s most fun toy. I haven’t even gotten to half of them yet. There’s the noble one, who thinks he holds my trust, the Druid boy, whose only redeeming feature is that he’s destined to kill the King Prat one day; believe me, if it weren’t for that I’d have killed the annoying little twerp years ago. Then there’s the King Prat’s magical sister, who is full of such terror. I play with her dreams some nights, force visions of pyres and hatred and destruction to play over and over in her mind. It’s rather amusing, watching her thrash and sweat and whimper in her sleep.-”

Arthur’s head had whipped around to Morgana when Merlin had mentioned her, but the tears streaming down her face and the way her hand was clamped tightly over her mouth stripped his anger from him. Which left him with no distraction, no way to ignore the simple fact of what was happening right now. Merlin was... not what they thought. He was powerful, he was using them. He was playing with them like puppets and pulling their strings this way and that, watching as they could do nothing but follow. Arthur didn’t know what to think, and he definitely didn’t notice the tears on his own cheeks.

Mordred was pale to the point of looking like he was about to faint and Lancelot had a deep frown on his face, tears in his eyes but not quite falling, not yet. This was... a misunderstanding. He... he knows Merlin, this is a trick, or a trap, he’ll explain later and everything will be just fine. He just has to... to trust him. Everything will be fine.

Gwaine keeps his gaze on the floor. A small part of him was feeling a little prideful that Percival liked him back, but the rest of him... had no room for anything but grief. He had suspected that Merlin had magic, but this was something else, this was... a whole new person. Did he ever really know Merlin? Did any of them? 

Elyan and Gwen sat pressed together tightly, though Gwen had one hand on Morgana’s shaking back, and her other was reaching around Elyan, gripping Leon’s shoulder tightly. Leon was just staring blankly at the scene in front of him, though anyone that knew him well enough would be able to see the tight clench of his jaw and the anger (and grief) in his eyes.

Ava interrupted Merlin’s gleeful ranting, the tears in her eyes a little more prominent as she took on a slightly more desperate tone:

“Please, Em, just... stop. They’re important, they have destinies, you can not destroy them or push them too far; this is cruel, even for you. This... you never used to be like this.”

Merlin turns around, facing away from his sister and giving the hidden group full view of his rage-filled face. His voice is quiet and clipped and angry as he asks:

“Oh?”

Another roll of thunder echoes through the clearing, closer this time, and fat droplets of rain fall harshly from the sky, mixing with the tears on everyone’s face. Ava sighs, tears overflowing as she gulps before answering, her voice shaking slightly as she takes a step towards Merlin:

“You’re meant to be the God of Magic, not Chaos. You were so... beautiful, balanced. You saw wonder in everything, every little spark of magic and every single prayer put a smile on your face. You loved humanity even more than Mother did. Now look at you, you’re tormenting them, torturing them. This isn’t you, Em, please. Help them, and things can go back to the way they were, help them and you can come home.”

The anger on Merlin’s face had only grown as she spoke, and each individual hidden in the bushes had to make a concerted effort to stop themselves from bolting. None of them had felt terror like it, and the fact that it was Merlin they were all so scared of... well, it didn’t help.

Lightening streaks across the sky and wind howls violently through the forest, calming only when Merlin shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, straightening his back and smirking slightly before he replies, still not turning around to face his sister:

“You’re right. I loved humanity, I was desperate to see them succeed. And then they butchered me. I gave them this universe to frolic in, and in return they call me a monster, a beast, they call me evil, they make nightmares out of me. I still listen to every little prayer, and do you know what I hear? I hear my people, my wonderful little creations, my creatures of magic, begging for mercy, begging for the pain to stop. The humanity I so used to love turned on them, began to burn them, out of spite and fear and hatred. I will not show them any more grace than they have showed me, I will give them exactly what they deserve, and that blonde idiot is at the top of my list of people who have to fucking pay. I won’t destroy him entirely, because ultimately I want my creatures to stop suffering, but I will break him. I will rip him apart piece by piece for what he has done to me.-”

The absolute fury in Merlin’s words, the hatred, translates to thunder in the sky and agony in Arthur’s chest. The King can barely breathe, muffling the sobs tearing from his mouth with both hands, both terrified of being discovered, and desperate to... to let Merlin punish him for the pain he has caused.

Leon settles a shaking hand on his shoulder, but Arthur doesn’t look his way, his blurry gaze focused on Merlin, now finally turning back to his sister:

“-You know, I’m this close to getting that big blonde idiot to fall in love with me. How pathetic is that?? All it took was a few touches here, a few lingering stares there, saving his life occasionally. The man is so pathetically starved for attention I imagine he’d fall for anyone who showed him the barest amount of affection. That is how I will break him.-”

The only thing stopping Arthur from sobbing aloud is Leon collapsing behind him, pulling the young King back into his chest and wrapping a tight arm around his torso, one hand clamped over his mouth as he mutters desperate reassurances into his ear. Morgana pulls Gwen close in a similar way when the servant’s cries grow harsher, her brother burying his face in her shoulder.

Lancelot barely notices Gwaine gripping his arm hard enough to leave bruises for weeks, or Percival pushing his forehead into Lance’s shoulder blade. All he can do is sit and stare at the ground, his breathing slow but shaky, tears streaming silently down his face as he rethinks everything he’s ever known.

Mordred sits on his own, rocking back and forth rhythmically as he tightens the clutch he has around his knees. Tears drip from his young cheeks, poisoning the ground beneath him as he struggles to consider his faith. His faith in magic, in Emrys, who was meant to be balanced and beautiful and giving. Emrys, who he now knew was twisted and angry and desperate for revenge.

All of their hearts are splitting, cracking down the middle.

“-It won’t be physical pain, no, that’ll be down to the Druid boy. He doesn’t want to kill Arthur now, but he will, one day, when I give him one final push. He’ll fall so far into the darkness there’ll be nothing of him left to save, and when he plunges his sword into The Pendragon’s chest, I’ll sit back and watch with a smile on my face, and Arthur will realise that the man he loves, the man who claimed to love him in return, hated him all along. Tricked him. I will watch the life drain from his eyes, and he will spend his last few moments on this world in every kind of agony imaginable, lost in the knowledge that I wanted him to suffer, that he is being punished for his sins.”

Ava shakes her head, silver tears dripping from her emerald eyes as she stares at the floor:

“Are Sir Mordred and the Lady Morgana not your creatures? Do you not wish to save at least them?”

Merlin chuckles darkly:

“I had faith in them once, but they made their decisions. They sided with a Pendragon over me. Mother may be fond of her precious Once and Future King, but to be fair, she’s fond of anything with a pulse, and I, for one, can not wait until she’s not quite so fond of him anymore.”

Ava gulps, taking a desperate step towards her amused brother, but before she can say anything, before she can make one last plea for mercy on humanity’s behalf, Merlin tilts his head, smirking dangerously:

“Do you think they’re scared?”

She halts in her tracks, blinking in confusion, and Merlin’s smile grows into a chuckle as he gestures behind him:

“The King and all his little friends, hidden in the bushes. Do you think they’re scared?” 

The gang barely have time to look up in shock before their bodies are moving, out of their control. They stand rigidly and walk single-file out from their hiding place, coming to stand in a line at the side of the clearing. Merlin hasn’t even looked at them, but his hand floats in the air, a sickly looking yellow mist swirling around his fingers as he tilts his head at his sister, staring in horror at The King, the knights, the Lady, and the servant.

Merlin drops his hand and they all fall to their knees, not even bothering to be brave as they sob. The angry God finally turns, and the serene smile on his face is chilling as he walks towards them, coming to stand in front of Lance and Mordred first. The two of them are the calmest, though calm in the way that they don’t really look... present. They stare blankly ahead, breathing shallow and tears still falling as Merlin crouches in front of them, gripping a chin in each hand and shaking their heads roughly. His voice comes out a whisper, the frown on his face looking more disappointed than anything:

“So much faith, so much trust. It’s a little pitiful, if I’m being honest.”

They don’t react to his words and he smirks before letting them go and standing, moving on to Elyan and Gwen, gripping the knight’s shoulder and saying with mocking sympathy in his voice:

“You were right, by the way,-”

He glances at a fully sobbing Gwen with disgust:

“-she’ll never forgive you, but she’ll never tell you that. You’ll just spend the rest of your life wondering why your relationship was never the same.”

Next, he shuffles over to Gwaine, not even bothering to see the siblings’ reactions as he passes Leon and Percival with a look of disinterest on his face. He leans down in front of the knight, running a soft hand through his hair, waiting for the man to relax slightly before gripping his hair harshly and yanking back, so he has to look up at him. Merlin gives him a blindingly cruel smile:

“You're grateful that Percival is just as in love with you as you are with him, but don’t think yourself too lucky. You’re a hypocrite and a drunk, and my dear old Percy has too much self respect to put himself through that. I’d go for a good tumble in the hay and give up while you’re ahead.”

Once again, he moves back, his sister having to look away in her grief, her empathy drowning her. The God comes to stand in front of Morgana, who is desperately trying to look brave but failing miserably:

“And you. You’re meant to be The Darkness, but I couldn’t very well have you outdo me, could I? Try your hardest, I’ll still be the end of you, and I wait with baited breath for the day you fall, and the day soon after that, when I get to kill you.”

She break down in tears again at that, horrified with the idea that she might one day be on the same end of morality and cruelty as this monster in front of her.

Merlin smirks before rolling his eyes and finally coming to stand in front of Arthur. The King calms his breathing just enough to look up at a smirking Merlin, his voice cracking and barely-there as he mutters:

“Please... Merlin, please...”

The smirk drops from Merlin’s face as he brings his hand up, the sickly yellow mist back again. Arthur rises from the floor, hands clutching at his throat as the air is drawn from his lungs. Merlin steps closer to his with a snarl, his free hand gripping Arthur’s chin like a vice, though his voice eerily calm as he murmurs:

“You. You and Uther were so desperate for a scape-goat, for a villain, for a monster. And you picked magic, you picked me. So stop being so fucking pathetic, I’m just playing the part you gave me to perfection. You picked the premise, I’m writing the ending.”

Ava finally speaks up, her voice loud, despite the waver:

“Brother please, this is... this is beyond cruelty, please just stop.”

Arthur is dropped, and The King can barely find it in himself to choke for air as Merlin turns back to his sister, the amused smirk back on his face:

“Why? None of them are going to remember in the morning anyway. I’ve had my fun, this has been cathartic, but I can’t have them ruining my plans. So run along now sister, tell Mother that her precious task is being completed, I’m just taking the scenic route.” 

She shakes her head in defeat, staring at the floor. She lifts her head, opening her mouth to make one last attempt, but she closes it, realising that there’s nothing she could possibly say to persuade him to suddenly have mercy, mercy that no one had ever shown him. She gulps, letting out a deep breath before shaking her head again and turning around, walking back into the trees, the way she came.

The God looks back to his puppets, shivering in time with their knotted strings, smirking once more before he clicks his fingers and everything goes dark.

~

Arthur wakes the next morning feeling oddly refreshed and surprisingly unannoyed at his idiot manservant’s lateness. He rolls his eyes at the bright sunshine glaring through his curtains, the sun certainly a lot higher in the sky than it should be at the time The King wakes, but oh well. Merlin has been chipper lately, and the warmth that Arthur feels in his chest at the younger man’s happiness makes him more likely to forgive him his tardiness.

As if thinking of him had summoned him (wishful thinking on Arthur’s part), Merlin bursts through the doors, not bothering to knock as per usual, a breakfast-laden tray in his arms and a cheeky grin on his face. Arthur rolls his eyes again, chucking a pillow at Merlin half-heartedly as he grumbles, also half-heartedly:

“You’re late.”

Merlin chuckles, setting the tray down on the table before jogging endearingly over to Arthur’s bedside, grabbing his hand and pulling him to stand upright:

“Something tells me you don’t mind all that much, Your Pratness.”

Arthur huffs, but only to stop himself from smiling, and resolutely ignores the way Merlin’s hand is still in his. The servant squeezes his palm softly, and Arthur gulps, pulling away and walking towards his meal, hoping the food would squash the butterflies in his stomach.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes, smiling to himself softly at a whole range of things: the good night’s rest he’d had, the bright sunshine, Merlin’s good mood, the sensation of Merlin’s hand in his own, Merlin’s dazzling smile, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin...

Merlin stares at his back as he goes, noting with a dangerously satisfied smirk the red blush of his ears.

The scenic route indeed.

~

THE END!!

Oops I made myself sad. Sorry to say but I hope this makes you sad too.

This was SUPER fun to write and I’m so glad I decided to do two versions😅

Link to the Good!Merlin version (much MUCH fluffier, I promise) at the top!!

[jamespotterthefirst]

In the Afterglow (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.7K Warning: Language Premise: The day after their first kiss in Miami. (Book 1, Chapter 10.5)

Series: Open Heart from Ethan’s POV

A/N: I took some liberties...

The azure waters of the pool rippled softly even long after all of its cheery occupants had left to sleep off the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed. It was almost midnight by the time Ethan stepped into the pool area, determined to let the biting water wash away the misery of the day. A breeze roiled off the nearby sea carrying a cooler bite than the night before.

At once, memories of the aforementioned night flooded his consciousness before he could stop them. Soft, delicate hands roaming his body with something close to desperation; full, rosy lips moving in tangent against his like a perfect symphony that had been months in the making; the breathless, maddening way she whispered his name, sweet on her lips like honey.

Ethan pressed his eyes shut, fighting against the memories. With a shuddering breath, he reached the edge of the water, but before he could dive in, he stopped when his eyes fell on the lone figure. Sitting at the far end of the pool, pretty features back lit by the golden lights in the water, was the very same person he was struggling to forget.

The world seemed to come to a standstill as their eyes met for the first time since their kiss. In the stifling silence, Ethan could feel the riot that was his pulse and he briefly wondered if she could hear it too.

“So you are alive,” he said at last, unable to hold back the edge of sarcasm. He winced internally but his eyes remained fixed on her across the water.

They had spent the day carefully avoiding the other, starting from the moment Ethan deliberately awoke at dawn, well before her, and left to occupy his mind at the conference. He had known even then that no amount of monotonous lectures or top shelf scotch was going to erase her from his thoughts. Apparently Lilac had the same plan as Ethan because she spent the last day of the conference visiting booths on the show floor and networking. At least, that's what Ethan gathered from the brief glimpses he caught of her from afar. Judging from her easy smiles and the visibly infatuated young doctor who rarely left her side all day, she had been far more successful than Ethan at forgetting their kiss.

His hands clenched involuntarily at his sides at the memory of her new companion's hopeful smile every time Lilac so much glanced his way. Ethan allowed the dull sting of jealousy to prickle his insides. He deserved it after he pushed her away so callously the night before.

From across the water, Lilac met his gaze with quiet defiance. “Hello to you too, Doctor Ramsey.”

The formality of her address felt like a slap, especially when she had all but moaned his name the night before. You deserve it, he reminded himself.

“What are you doing out so late? We have an early flight to catch.”

“I was with a friend.”

His gut twisted in the silence.

“And where's your friend now?”

“Upstairs,” she replied, her voice as impassive as her expression. Despite her deliberate lack  of emotion, the single word communicated more. Upstairs… waiting for me.

Ethan glanced away, afraid that one more second of staring at her assessing, clever eyes would give away the torrent of agony rippling inside him. It should be him. It should be Ethan waiting for her in a warm hotel room, eager to have her in his arms. It should them, together after months of wishing for nothing else.

When he finally gathered the courage to glance back at her, he could see the same thoughts flickering in those fiery eyes he adored, as clear as the crystal water that separated them. Those eyes bore into his with bold conviction. In the silence, she was daring him to stop her, to verbalize his need for her, to fight for her.

He didn't and her expression crumpled with evident hurt. With a small, shaky sigh that felt like a knife twisting at his side, she strode through the water, determined to storm off.

“Lilac.”

The blazing wave of longing sizzling through his blood was an entity of its own, carrying Ethan toward her until they met at the stairs of the pool. Knowing damn well he had no right to stop her, he did so anyway, his hand gently taking hold of her arm.

Lilac glanced at where he touched her as though his fingers burned her. Her eyes found his and something seemed to soften in her expression. This close, he could see the lines of exhaustion marring her face, a testament to the sleepless night she also had.

“What do you want, Ethan?”

The answer to that was simple, he realized. Because what he wanted the most was currently right before him. His throat tightened, choosing to say instead—

“I want you to stay.”

Another deafening silence, so thick it was almost tangible. Lilac said nothing, though the dignified way in which she jutted her chin forward suggested otherwise. At last, she lost whatever internal battle she was fighting because her lips parted to whisper—

“Make me stay.”

Ethan's fingers flexed slightly around her wrist as he failed to stifle the thrill those words sent through him. A primal part of his brain presented him with many ways to fulfill her request, many of which involved their bodies pressed together. Fuck his conviction or every logical reason to push her away. He couldn't remember them clearly anyway when her captivating eyes fell down to settle on his lips.

“Ethan—”

She couldn't finish that sentence because he was kissing her, hard. The reunion of their lips brought a wave of relief he didn't know he needed since the previous night, since perhaps the first moment he saw her.

Lilac kissed him back just as fiercely, her arms locking around his neck. The force of their bodies meeting compromised their balance, sending them back into the pool, the sting of the cold water almost inconsequential to Ethan. Without breaking their kiss, he steadied her securely against his body.

As he deepened the kiss, his tongue lavishly taunting hers, her nails raked lightly down his chest, sending shivers down his spine. She broke the kiss to tease him with torturous little kisses along his neck, her hands sinking under the water to graze his abs. Any lower and she'd find the poof of her effect on him, though he suspected she already knew it.

“I'd hoped we could do this again,” she confessed, a hot whisper against his lips.

A spike of panic speared through him again, reminiscent of the previous night. If anyone saw them… Her career and everything she worked so hard for would be ruined. All because Ethan was weak-willed and pathetically incapable of resisting her.

“Lilac, we—”

She shook her head, as though reading his mind. “We're not at Edenbrook.”

“I'm still your boss.”

“Then I quit.”

“Be serious.”

The words were so hypocritical with her wet, half naked body pressed against his that Ethan almost laughed.

“Fine,” she allowed, pulling back enough to look at him in the eye. Her arms, however, remained around his neck, much to his delight. “We don't have to be Dr. Allende and Dr. Ramsey at this moment.” Ethan opened his mouth to argue but she pressed on. “Please, Ethan. Please let us be just Lilac and Ethan. Just this once.”

He said nothing, going against all reason to actually consider the request. Normally, he'd explain it wasn't that simple, that every action against the rules had inevitable consequences.

“Please,” she whispered, punctuating the plea with a chaste kiss.

And that was all it took to convince him. He was weak-willed when it came to her.

Without wasting another moment, he pulled her impossibly closer and captured her lips with his. The little moan that reflexively escaped her fueled him to hoist her up with almost ungraceful movements, her legs enclosing his waist at once. Apparently, she was just as inspired by their new position, particularly by his hands firmly gripping her ass, because she bit down on his lower lip, using her tongue to soothe the sting right after.

He cursed.

She pried her lips away from his to murmur in his ear. “I wasn't going to go to him.”

Dizzy and disoriented, Ethan struggled to place the words. Until his muddled brain remembered the doctor he had seen her with.

“He's not who I want.”

The words were like a catalyst, reigniting  something fierce in his chest. Without responding, he pushed her against the tiled wall of the pool, the lapping of the water mixing with her breathless moan. His lips pressed hot, desperate kisses along the curve of her neck and shoulder.

As if Ethan wasn't beyond reason already, breaking every rule for the promise of her lips, she rolled her body against his in a tantalizing little rhythm. Ethan cursed again, the sound low and gravelly.

“Lilac.”

Their mouths found each other like magnets. Ethan kissed her until their lips were raw, until they were both breathless, until they shivered slightly from the biting chill of the water. They pulled apart, panting, foreheads pressed together. A small pang of sadness ran through Ethan as he realized the end of their little spell was within sight.

Yet, her green eyes on his was a spell of its own, one that always managed to leave him reeling.

“Lilac,” he started, never tiring of saying her name. What was he going to say next? Anytime the words manifested in his mind, the cynicism that had been his comfort all these years struck them dead.

“I know,” she whispered.

How could she? How could she know when he hadn't known himself until recently.

“This can't happen again.” She smiled sadly at him, pressing one last kiss to his lips, completely unaware of how his heart shattered into fine dust. Looking as though she wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms all night, she disentangled herself from his body.

She was right.

Desperately trying to protect her own dignity, she had said the words  before he could.

Swallowing hard, he gave her a small nod. “We should go back inside. Our flight is at six and we're going straight to work after we arrive.”

Edenbrook, the place where they would revert back to their roles of attending and intern. Lilac nodded and averted her eyes from his, placing distance between them in more ways than one. With a crushing feeling, he accepted they had slipped into those roles the moment their lips broke apart.

______________________

A/N:

“This can't happen again.”

Narrator: It did.

Ahhh! Thank you for reading this. I couldn’t move on in the series without writing this. I had been thinking about it for a long time. So it was 100% self-indulgent and maybe a little AU. My reasoning is that Ethan always says, “We can’t.” And then like two scenes later he’s contracting his previous lies lol.

Anyway, thank you! And thank you to @aestheticartsx​ for helping me with this mess!

Love you guys!

P.S. I am so sorry if you tagged me in a fic and I haven’t reblogged. I will dedicate this week to catch up <3

________________________

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[sir-adamus]

Jack was always awful

so there’s this general (and frankly bizarre given there’s plenty of easy access to the context) consensus in the fandom that Jack was actually a decent guy until the Pre-Sequel (and that everything is Lilith and Moxxi’s fault blah blah blah, yeah yeah, we get it you’re very transparent)

but here’s the thing like, the series itself doesn’t agree with you, so let’s put things in chronological order:

Before Borderlands 1

- murdered his first wife (oh sure he claims Angel did it, unable to control her powers, but he’s also a self-serving liar and canonically gaslights her, “he’ll try to guilt you, to make you think it’s your fault”, so calling bullshit on that), and oh how convenient that now he gets to exploit Angel’s abilities for his own ends afterwards

- Jack forces a very young Angel into a ‘chair’ and forces her to use her abilities for his own gain in climbing the corporate ladder by having her pretend to be an AI, using the death of her mother as an excuse - she is in there for the rest of her life until her Vault Hunter assisted suicide and she is under his near constant control (she’s not even allowed to swear)

- murdered his second wife (oh yeah he claims she ‘bolted’ in TFTBL but the first time we heard about her, in the mission “Get to Know Jack” in BL2, it’s stated that she disappeared after finding out about Angel, and Jack strangles the guy who brought her up)

Borderlands 1

- made Angel manipulate the BL1 Vault Hunters so they’d open the Vault and unleash the Destroyer (and release Eridium, which he was planning for); when she questions him he yells at her to shut up - to put that in full context, he used Angel to trick the Vault Hunters into releasing an alien superweapon that would’ve killed everyone on the planet if they hadn’t killed it

Before Borderlands The Pre-Sequel

- used the eye of the Destroyer to construct the Eye of Helios, a wave motion gun, with the intent on using it to commit genocide on Pandora (yeah just an FYI - building a giant laser powerful enough to nearly blow up the moon to target ‘bandit camps’ when Jack defines a bandit as anyone he doesn’t like - doesn’t make him look like a good person)

- briefly dated Moxxi, she dumped him when she realised what a sociopathic monster he was beneath his ‘nice guy hero’ facade (he also blew up her Underdome for this, though whether that was before or after the Pre-Sequel is left unclear)

- started hiring for body doubles, like Timothy Lawrence, who had their bodies reconstructed to be identical to his and bombs implanted in their faces to prevent tampering with the permanent alterations, and forcing said doubles to sign NDAs preventing them from even saying their own names

- begins mining Pandora for Eridium (and refining it - the Slag runoff from the refinement is used to charge the Eye of Helios), which reduces part of the landscape into a craggy wasteland spewing lava, volcanic ash constantly raining down (the Slag runoff of Eridium refinement is also just dumped all over the place, polluting the planet further)

this was all before Jack made his first chronological appearance

Borderlands The Pre-Sequel

okay here we go, Jack makes his chronological debut here

- loses his temper and murders the Meriff after the latter tries shooting him in the back and misses, yells “I was gonna let you live you dumb bastard, what is wrong with you?!” before commenting that it felt invigorating

- gonna just make a whole sub-thing for Felicity:

when Felicity starts having doubts during the ‘build a robot army’ plan, Jack dismisses her like he’s not even listening because he’s more focused on getting what he want, he then proceeds to casually threaten Gladstone Katoa (”By the way, last guy who double-crossed me's got nothing but a bunch of bullet holes and a stupid look on his face. Get me?”)

later when Felicity suggests just copying her because she’d find it much less terrifying than being uploaded to the Constructor, Jack asks her to clarify how much less terrifying - “It's the difference between brain surgery and being scanned.” - Jack just says he’ll ‘think about it’

Felicity complains that she doesn’t enjoy killing, he just waves that off by saying he doesn’t enjoy it either

he then orders Felicity’s mind wiped because copying her would take too long, offers a half-hearted apology when he says Elpis can’t wait, and then tells Gladstone to “Keep the military stuff, anything that can help us in a fight. Trash the rest.” Afterwards he doesn’t even care that he’s just had Felicity killed because he got his cool robot army

- ejects Gladstone and a couple other innocent scientists into space because one of the scientists still working in R&D might’ve been a traitor, so he killed all of them just to be sure (well he had his Vault Hunters do it but same diff) - what a hero. he then immediately tries to turn it around like he did everyone a favour - “Y'know, if I hadn't airlocked those scientists, one of 'em mighta turned those defenses back on just as you were walking through. Woulda fried you like a skag steak. Think on that.”

- this is the point in the story in TVHM where Athena admits she’d been suspecting she’d been working for the bad guy for a while

- kills Zarpedon because he gets bored of listening to her when she’s trying to explain what’s in the Vault on Elpis

- Moxxi tricks Jack and his Vault Hunters into blowing up the Eye of Helios, telling Jack she should’ve done it a long time ago because he’s a “power-hungry psychopath” - “I've been watching you, Jack. And behind that smile, behind that hero complex, there's something wrong about you. If you come down from Helios alive, a lot of decent people will live to regret it.” Jack screams that she, Lilith and Roland are no better than bandits because they destroyed an alien superweapon that he wanted to use (so i really don’t get why anyone was sympathising with him on this)

- Jack grows increasingly savage and unstable following this as the metaphorical mask starts slipping; ranting about how he’s going to ‘deal with them all’, threatens his boss just for asking for an update, then talking about how he wanted to use whatever’s in the Vault to kill Roland, Lilith, Moxxi and “all those sons of bitches”. he then loudly threatens Tassiter’s life after he calls to say he’s fired again (and like, okay, Tassiter’s an asshole, but he’s ‘dickhead boss’ asshole, he’s not ‘strangle you for talking shit, being in the same room or just for breathing’ asshole, which Jack is). it all comes to a head after he gets the treasure in the Vault and it shows him the Warrior and how to get to it (use Eridium to charge the Vault Key using a Siren as a catalyst), before Lilith punches the relic into his face, scarring him and destroying whatever restraint he had left - he plans to scorch Pandora in fire

- Jack makes good on his threat to Tassiter, strangling him to death and taking over Hyperion

- Claptastic Voyage - Jack sends his Vault Hunters after the H-source code that was buried in Claptrap’s virtual mind by Tassiter. full of access codes, prototype schematics and all sorts of Hyperion secrets. he uses it to destroy Claptrap’s product line and to add insult to injury, kills our Claptrap - who’d been retrofitted into a Vault Hunter. only reason he survived was the Shadowtrap (the true AI behind Vaulthunter.exe that Claptrap’s base AI overrides) keeping him functioning, his own incredibly robust chassis (as a result of being INAC and the Fragtrap) and Hammerlock finding him

Before Borderlands 2

in no particular order

- kidnapped Tannis and tortured her for days to make her give up the Vault Key

- started injecting the Eridium he’d refined into Angel to increase her power in order to charge the Vault Key faster - this also left her so reliant on Eridium that cutting off her supply would kill her in less than a minute

- started forcing his scientists to experiment on the population of Pandora (’bandits’), often by threatening and blackmailing them, like he did Dr Samuels by holding her wife hostage. this experimentation resulted in Psychos like Krieg, as well as other mutants

- the aforementioned experimentation also makes up Tiny Tina’s backstory - her family was taken there and while she escaped, her parents are dead or worse

- he destroyed New Haven, a central location from the first game, trying to flush Lilith out. Helena Pierce was forced to relocate her people to Sanctuary - she didn’t make it, and Jack made fun of her face scarring for good measure, and a number of New Haven citizens in the process

and a lot of others that i can’t remember the specifics on

Borderlands 2

oh jesus christ

- literally blows up a train to try and kill the Vault Hunters at the beginning of the game

you know what there’s just too much in BL2, i’ll just stick to the main ones

- captures Mordecai’s beloved companion Bloodwing, mutates the crap out of her and then blows her head off - later puts her decapitated corpse on display in his city Opportunity

- forces Angel to manipulate the new Vault Hunters into taking down Sanctuary’s shield so he can blow it up

- when Angel gets sick of him and communicates with the Vault Hunters against his orders to try and help them stop him, he starts torturing her

- kills Roland, steps over Angel’s body to gloat and then caps that off by capturing Lilith, hooking her up to Angel’s Eridium injectors and starts stabbing her because the Eridium makes her heal quicker

- summons the Warrior intent to kill everyone on Pandora so he can ‘civilise’ it

Tales from the Borderlands

- first thing he does is threaten to kill people

- second thing he does is to try and strangle Rhys

- everything following that is trying to manipulate Rhys into doing what he wants; he only cares about Rhys so far as he cares about his own continued existence (i mean he outright tries to kill Rhys as soon as he’s not in his cybernetics anymore)

- he actually becomes even more of a textbook abuser here, because he’s constantly trying to isolate Rhys from the others

- if Rhys trusts him, he’ll goad Athena into attacking Cassius, which he’s very excited about - and makes sense when you consider how she reacted to him killing Gladstone and those scientists on the possibility that one might be a traitor. he wants her to attack someone who had nothing to do with the order to kill her sister to make a hypocrite out of her

- nearly everything he says is a lie to manipulate Rhys; he never means a word of it and it’s always serving his own interests

- right up to the end he never accepts responsibility for his own heinous actions and is constantly pawning off blame and fault to others

and that’s not even nearly all of it. tl;dr, just cos a guy says he’s a hero, doesn’t mean he is one. actually, if someone has to point out what a great person they are all the time? that just means they’re full of shit

[yuncifang]

Lost and Found

Another Whumptober 2019 fill.

Fandom: Shadowhunters (TV)

Characters/pairing: Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane; malec is there if you squint; Jace Wayland, Raphael Santiago (mentioned)

Prompts: 4. Dehydration; Check @whumptober2019 for more!

Alec is marooned at sea after standing up to his captain and refusing to torture a captured pirate. He is dying of severe dehydration when the aforementioned pirate swoops back in to rescue him. So Alec is rescued by a handsome stranger, invited to join a crew of misfits and is also reunited with his not-so-dead brother. Raphael is mentioned like once, leaves an impression, but doesn’t make an appearance.

Fair warning, there is a whole page describing Alec think that he is dying of dehydration and starvation, but all in all it's as light-hearted as my other fill for Whumptober. Also, I have a lot of feelings about the bond that Alec and Jace share.

Raphael’s ship is called Munkar. Hodge’s ship is called Nuriel. Those are some of the angelic names mentioned on the SH fandom wiki-page. Munkar - in Islamic eschatology is one of the angels that test the faith of the dead in their graves and the English translation would be the Denied. Nuriel in Jewish mythology is the angel of hailstorms and translates as “fire of the Lord”. Think what you may of it :) Pirate ships in this AU have angelic names, because, well, they are all stollen from the Clave, ha!

Read on AO3

*

Alec was dying. He tried to hide on the lower desks first, but with each passing day, it was harder and harder for him to move around the ship. A huge ship. Staying on the upper deck allowed him to scan the horizon in hopes of seeing another vessel. Why was a pirate sailing a huge ship like that all alone? He had to think, baffled for a moment, his brain all clouded and slow because of days without food and water. They’ve captured a pirate. It was easy enough, Alec wasn’t even the one boarding the ship, he stood there and watched as two other soldiers escorted the pirate over to the Nuriel. According to Captain Starkweather, the man was a notorious criminal, who was wanted not only for piracy, but for witchcraft and heresy. He was, supposedly, part of Raphael Santiago’s crew, which sounded far-fetched, seeing how he was the only person on board of his ship. Alec didn’t recognise the man, which was also weird on itself, as he has spent endless hours pouring over whatever information was available on Santiago’s crew. The pirate put up a good fight, but did’t really stand a chance, what with him somehow manning the ship alone. The vessel wasn’t that big, but must have required more people to handle it. There was no one else on board. Alec watched the man pass him, face bloodied, the simple white shirt he was wearing ruined, ripped in several places and red with blood too. He was sporting an amused smirk though, as if the situation didn’t bother him in the slightest. He was shackled and tied to the main mast, looked them all over as if he owned the place and then locked eyes with Alec. Alec remembered feeling uneasy, looking at the man. He seemed Alec’s age and was probably rather handsome under all the blood and dirt. His eyes seemed to shine with something barely concealed, and he winked at Alec, as if they were sharing a secret, before turning to Captain Starkweather and promptly spitting out a venomous remark. Alec didn’t know why, but he knew then that that day was no ordinary hunt. The pirate seemed crazy. He aggravated the captain more and more, his disdain and contempt for the hunters obvious with his every word. The captain demanded to know his name, and the pirate readily refused. The captain demanded to know the whereabouts of Raphael Santiago, and the pirate laughed in his face. So Captain Starkweather ordered to torture the man. Alec’s world has gone to shit over a crazy pirate and his own demand for justice. He couldn’t stand there and watch them torture someone. There were procedures to follow, a code of conduct that the Clave designed specifically for apprehending such criminals. Alec refused to take part and demanded a fair trial. It was Captain Starkweather’s turn to laugh. The sun was shining, hot and merciless, the air around was dry, and there was no wind. For the first time in three years since he’s first set sails, the ocean was as calm as a sleeping child. He’d heard stories of course. The sea was never kind or forgiving, for it was not an entity, even if most sailors viewed it as one. People considered the pirate stories to be the scariest, talking about their viciousness and cruelty, calling them the danger that lurked in open waters, but he’s always known better. Pirates were people, and people could be bargained with, people could be fought and over-powered, people could be reasoned with. The sea was indifferent. He was dying, he knew that well enough. He hasn’t had anything to drink for the last five days. He hasn’t had anything to eat for even longer. The worst part was the knowledge that the crew that left him behind, would get to the nearest port and call him the casualty of sickness or, worse, a traitor, deserter, soldier-turned-pirate. There were too many of stories of that for people to doubt it. His family would never know the truth. If he had any strength left, he’d break something in fury. His sharp sister would suspect something. It would crush her, and she’d refuse to let it go until, eventually, it will destroy her poor heart. He was dying, but all he was scared of was the thought of his Isabelle going mad with grief or worse, try to find the truth and get hurt in the process. The news would no doubt make her world crumble. To lose another brother, and so soon after Jace... Alec was lying in the shadows over the highest deck, the one with the steering wheel, his eyes closed. He thought his ears were ringing, but logically he knew, it was the headache setting in. The crew, the pirate hunters as they were called, the soldiers of the Clave as they were known, abandoned him readily enough. His captain didn’t take well his refusal to torture a captured man. He didn’t take well him standing up for the poor bastard and demanding a fair trial. Captain- what was his name? Captain Starkweather, yes, he ordered to abandon the pirate vessel that they’ve seized, but not before anything functioning on board was destroyed. Captain Starkweather was a vicious bastard. Even if the wind had picked up, Alec wouldn’t be able to sail, cursed to drift and die a slow death. He closed his eyes trying to focus on his spiralling mind. His name was Alexander Lightwood. He was a soldier of the Clave. He wouldn’t die abandoned by his crew like some unwanted pet. He wouldn’t let them… It was getting harder to breathe. He was dizzy, and everything around him was hot and dry, and his skin seemed like paper, and he felt his mouth resemble a dried out fruit. He knew he was dying, even though he didn't really feel like it anymore. He was just tired. His muscles stopped actually aching the day before, and his stomach seemed to have settled with the absence of food. He was just so god damn tired. Surely, if he just rested for a bit, he'd be able to get up and scout the horizon one more time. He just needed to close his eyes. A lone bird was circling above him, and Alec thought, if the bastards had left him anything resembling a weapon, he’d have shot it down already, probably, only prolonging his inevitable death. He still would have fought to stay alive. Before sliding into the sweet embrace of the enclosing darkness, he also thought of his siblings. They'd fight too, tooth and nail, just like Jace fought his last day on duty. Just like Izzy fought every day proving wrong anyone who expected any less from her for being a lady. God, how he missed them both. He just needed to rest, and then, of course, he'd get up and he'd fight, and he'd survive. For them he'd do anything, really. Right after he rested...

*

When he came to, the first thing he noticed was the movement. The ship was moving steadily, the waves rocking it back and forth. There was a cold cloth over his head, and someone was humming lightly, the tune repetitive, one of those songs you’d hear stumbling in a tavern close to midnight when everyone was drunk and happy. Alec opened his eyes. It was still hard to breathe, but it was comparatively better. The sheets underneath him were smooth and cooling on the skin, and he didn’t feel like he was about to rip in half with the next movement. He tried to sit, but his body seemed all limp and ached all over, so he fell back with a weak helpless moan. The humming stopped. “You’re awake,” a voice announced, and then there was a man next to him, helping him up gently. He made sure Alec was sitting comfortably and handed him a wooden cup, the cloth was discarded carelessly. “Drink that, but slowly, mhm,” the man said not letting go of the cup in case Alec’d drop it. “There you go, you should be back on your feet in no time.” Alec gulped and promptly broke into a coughing fit. The man waited patiently and then gave him some more water. Finally, Alec managed to take a proper breath and look around. “Where am I?” he asked, his voice hoarse as if he’s eaten a bucket of sand, “Who are you?” “I’ll tell you,” the man promised, “but try to not freak out, hm?” Alec looked back at him apprehensively. He couldn’t do much, obviously, but the word choice on itself seemed suspicious enough. The man wasn’t dressed as a sailor. He looked more like one of the young lords that frequented salons and high-class dinners, but not just any lord, an eccentric one at best. The waistcoat over his undershirt had elaborate embroidery all over and the colour seemed most unusual, almost purple. His breeches were only a shade darker. And there was a bright red justaucorp draped over the back of his chair. Only people that dressed like that at sea were pirates. Their grand fuck-you to the upper-classes that enforced the clothing separation so much. “This vessel is known as the Munkar,” the man said, watching for his reaction. “It’s captained by-” “Raphael Santiago,” Alec said slowly. He knew of that ship alright. Raphael Santiago was a notorious pirate. Young and ruthless, and scary, or so people said. His crew was part of the armada that stormed Tortuga three years ago. He was one of the pirates behind Jace’s death. He was the one Starkweather was after. “You’ve gone so very pale, dear,” the man said carefully. “I assume, you’re familiar with the name.” Alec nodded weakly. His head was starting to hurt again. “Are you- You aren’t him though,” Alec said slowly, focusing on the man’s face. His features were sharp, skin slightly tanned, bright almost golden eyes contoured with black lines. His expression was careful, though, as if he was trying not to scare Alec off. Not like he could do much in his current state, but nonetheless. Alec thought he looked vaguely familiar, but he was certain he hasn’t seen any pictures of him before. “No,” the man said softly. “But I travel with Raphael often and as a favour to me he agreed to circle back and save you. And we were also looking for you before, so there.” “But I don’t know you,” Alec said. “And how did you even- there was no wind, how did you get close-” “Well,” the man cleared his throat, “all the legends are true, aren’t they? You’ve probably heard rumours of Raphael’s crew.” Alec nodded. Of course, he had. There were a great many things passed around about that crew. It was said that the notorious crew of the Munkar made a deal with the Devil and exchanged their souls for the wind to always play to their favour. It was said a witch was sailing with them, turning the tide whenever Santiago needed it, that there was no way the Munkar has escaped that many ordeals with not a scratch on it with no magical intervention. The man that they’ve captured was the one accused of it! It was said that captain Raphael Santiago wasn’t even human, that the seas themselves spurted him out, and that he couldn’t step on dry land because of it fearing horrible death. That last one was called a curse, and some believed Santiago also spread it onto his crew. “Some of them are true,” the man said, “we have our way around the water.” Alec laid back down slowly watching him, as he continued. “Your crew abandoned you when you tried to do the right thing. That’s no way to die.” “How do you know that?” “Don’t you recognise me?” the man chuckled and turned his face left and right as if that way Alec’d see him better. Alec squinted for a moment and then stared, eyes wide in shock. It couldn’t be- No wonder he didn’t recognise him. The man in front of him was dressed to the nines, all soft smiles and smooth voice. Last time Alec has seen him was a bit short of a week ago, and then he was strapped to a mast, clothes ripped, face bloodied, about to be tortured for whatever Captain Starkweather thought he could get out of him and grinning manically about it. “How did you-” “I have my ways,” the man said with another smile. It should have looked sinister, but Alec was right, the man wasn’t hard to look at. “But I was very impressed with your courage.” Alec huffed, “A lot of good that did me.” “Oh, believe me, it did!” the man took his hand gently, his excitement barely contained, “It is so very rare these days for a hunter to show even a modicum of mercy towards a pirate, but you didn’t just do that, you stood against your whole crew in order to protect, well, me! And you didn’t even know me!” “I still don’t, to be fair,” Alec said weakly. “I knew you’d make a fine addition to our crew,” the man ignored his jab. “We were looking so very hard for you, you’ll have to forgive my excitement. You’re everything I’ve hoped for and then some!” That made Alec eyeball him again, with suspicion this time. He thought he might have heard him wrong. “Sorry, did you just?” It was like the man was having two conversations with Alec at once, both out loud. “Ah,” the man exclaimed as if he just realised the sheer scale of Alec’s confusion, “right!” He turned to the door and snapped his fingers. Blue sparks flew out and floated right through the room, towards the corridor. Alec’s eyes bulged. “Your captain accusing me of witchcraft?” the man said innocently. “I’m a warlock. I’m one of the reasons the Munkar is so successful in her voyages!” “That’s… magical,” Alec said, as he followed the sparks that floated right through the wooden door. “Why, thank you, Alexander,” the man said, obviously rather pleased with himself. “I still don’t even know your name,” Alec said. It was hardly fair, because the way the man pronounced his name sounded borderline indecent, and Alec was not ready to explore that at the moment. Before his magical saviour had a chance to answer though, the door burst open letting in a dishevelled looking man with an almost manic expression on his face. “Magnus! What ha-” Alec thought he stopped breathing. The man was blond and heaving, and his clothes looked all dirty as if he was busy cleaning a canon or something before bursting in, there was stubble on his chin that would have made him almost unrecognizable if not for his bright, mismatched eyes. It was Jace. It couldn’t be, but it was. “Alec!” Alec was still staring, when Jace wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug, words pouring out of him in endless nonsense. How he couldn’t believe they’ve met again. How he’s missed Alec and Izzy. How he didn’t believe his eyes when Magnus brought him on board. “You’re alive,” Alec said, grasping at his dirtied shirt, hugging him back, “Jace, you’re alive.” His head seemed empty, his ears were ringing, but compared to the terror he has felt not two days ago faced with inevitable death, the joy seemed almost less bearable. He was breathing in a hastened gulps, and he didn’t think he’d ever let go. He didn’t think it was possible. Jace was alive. Alec didn’t care how; he didn’t even care if it was all a magic trick. The pure relief made him feel as if he was about to explode into a million pieces, too full to contain it. “Man, are you crying?” Jace asked, finally, looking into his face, his own eyes dump. “You look exactly the same!” “Starved and close to death?” Alec chuckled, whipping at his eyes. “God, I can’t believe you’re here.” Then he realised something else. “And you’re a pirate now,” he said slowly. Jace nodded enthusiastically, completely oblivious to Alec’s sudden discomfort. “Yeah, well, look at you! A soldier of the Clave! Mom must be very proud of you, Alec.” Alec scoffed despite himself. “Lots of good that did me,” he muttered. “So, the pirate thing?” “Man, I’ve been trying to track you down for ages now!” Jace kept patting his shoulders as if he was worried Alec was doing to dissolve into thin air the second he let go. “Raphael is a dick, but he saved my life that day on Tortuga.” Magnus coughed and muttered, “That’s Captain Santiago, Chase.” Jace waved him off, “Yeah, Captain Santiago is a dick,” he backtracked, “but he saved me. By the time I came to, we were half way across the world! Magnus here patched me up, and well- Let’s say there were a lot of reasons for me to stick around.” “Why didn’t you contact us? We thought you were killed that day,” Alec said. Mostly he was concerned Isabelle was going to murder their brother for real when she’d find out. “I couldn’t!” Jace’s expression fell. “I would have died that day, and it wasn’t a pirate that struck the blow.” Magnus – who, apparently, wasn’t just magical and nicely dressed, but had an unusual name to go with it – cleared his throat, making both men look up. “As heart-warming as I find that reunion,” he said, and his wide smile was bright evidence of that, “Alexander here should get some rest before Raphael decides to make an appearance.” Jace groaned. “You’re gonna hate that guy,” he promised. “How dare you,” Magnus muttered, he was still smiling though. “He did take Alexander on board!” “Only because you asked him,” Jace said surly. “Raphael would start a fucking war if you hinted at one.” He rolled his eyes for good measure. Magnus waved him off. “Nonsense,” he snapped his fingers, and another cup floated into his hands, “Raphael knows better than that. Here, drink this, Alexander.” He handed the cup over, and Alec took it absent-mindedly, too fascinated with the exchange. Jace seemed completely at ease with both Magnus and his magic. Last time they spoke, Jace claimed he’d hunt down the Dumah, which was another notorious pirate ship, and re-claim her for the Clave, and now here he was, obviously, distracted from some kind of work, talking to a pirate with the same brashness and cockiness that he had three years ago. They bickered, while Alec drank whatever was in the cup. It tasted like tea, but immediately he felt an urge to lay down and close his eyes. “One day Raphael will snap at you for your insubordination.” “He can bite me,” Jace grinned. “I’m too precious for this crew!” “That can be arranged,” Magnus muttered with an eye-roll. Then he noticed Alec’s sleepy blinking and shooed at Jace. “Time to let Alexander sleep, Chase.” “Not my name,” Jace scoffed as if it was some kind of an old joke, then turned to Alec and gave him another hug. “I’ll come later and we’ll talk, alright, buddy? You should listen to your doctor and rest more.” Alec nodded, his eyelids heavy already. Jace left, leaving Magnus, who busied himself with adjusting Alec’s blanket. “You’re very kind,” Alec mumbled and sighed. “That’s nice.” He didn’t realise it before the tea, but he was exhausted. The emotional wreck that was dropped onto him in a matter of several days was a bit too much even for someone trained to endure from his very childhood. Magnus smiled at him yet again. He had a very nice smile, when there was no blood smeared across his face. “The easiest thing in the world, Alexander,” he seemed to develop a fascination with Alec’s name. Alec didn’t really mind. “Not true,” he countered, his eyes already closed. “The world is a cruel place.” “Oh,” Magnus petted his hair, which Alec found rather nice too, “cruel it may be, but it is also whatever we make of it, isn’t that right? You’ve found your brother today.” “More like,” Alec mumbled, “he found me. And you. You found me.” “That’s right,” Magnus said softly. “I do hope you’d stay with us. Not that we can keep you, but Jace is here, isn’t he? Besides, the Clave’ve probably already branded you a traitor. Wouldn’t you like to restore your good name?” There was no answer, so he looked down to find Alec quick asleep. Magnus huffed softly, still stroking Alec’s hair. He couldn’t wait for all the adventures this promised to bring along.

*

[averyonelovesjack]

cost of friendship ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes

Hey! Could you do an imagine about Daniel and Y/N dating but they keep it a secret because they don't want to ruin Y/N's friendship with the other guys? Thanks love!

summary: y/n goes to hang out at the wdw household during the storm and in the midst of a power outage, daniel and y/n reach a new level of their relationship.

warning(s): cursing, i also changed it a little bit sorry

word count: 2103

taglist: @ijustreallylovethemtattoos @beautybesson @samithepixie @lovableherron @notyotypical  @bessonsgarl @jackaverybabe @jonahmaraismakesmyday @coolerberryfrizzlediz @dailydoseofherron @victoriagrier @w0nderr @heyowdw

Storm clouds flew low above my head and the wind was strong enough to push my hair into my face and make my eyes water. I pushed against it and try my best to make it up the street to the house without looking like a complete disaster. The air wasn’t cool, either, though. The humidity made the day even more miserable and the growling storms didn’t leave me with much time to make it into the house. 

Just as I stepped onto the front porch, the front door opened and quickly I hurried inside, a loud clap of thunder striking and sending me shrieking as I stumble into Daniel’s arms. My friend laughs, helping me stand up straight as it takes more arm strength than normal for him to push the door closed. 

“Made it just in time, I guess,” He commented about my brief introduction to the storm upon my entrance to the house.  

I can’t help but smile at his comments, “Thankfully, you were there to get me in before I was struck by lightning.” 

The rain began to pour down onto the house, causing loud clattering noises that made us all start talking a little bit louder. 

Daniel walked me into the large house shared by the five member band, “The pizza guy came like five minutes ago and I tried to get them to wait for you, but no one listens to me anymore.” 

“You guys didn’t have to wait,” I tell him, throwing my bag down on the countertop in its usual spot, “It’s not like I expect anything less of you. Except for you, Dani. The only person in this house who cares about me.” 

“Does anyone hear a fly?” Corbyn comments, looking away from me as I take the seat next to him. Jack sat to my right, the aforementioned member to my left, and my closest friend, Daniel across from me. The other two boys were scattered around Daniel. 

I gave Corbyn a playful punch, which only fueled them up some more. Jack started to add to the situation, “No, no. Wait it’s too high pitch to be a fly. Maybe it’s a mouse.” 

“A tiny mouse,” Corbyn continues, “With absolutely no arm strength.” 

“Oh wow, fuck you all.” I pull a slice of pizza onto my plate. I make eye contact with Daniel as the other boys continue with their teasing. We both sent each other playful eye rolls and went back to eating our pizza and listening to my close friends torture me. 

“Hey! Maybe we can watch Stuart Little and get the mouse to come out so we can get it outside.” Zach suggests tonight’s first movie option.

“We can’t put the mouse outside; The storm is a lot worse than they suspected. If we put it outside, it might get hurt,” Daniel decided and I’m not sure if this is the more logical answer, or not. 

“I thought you were on my side!!” I looked at Daniel, whose face dropped and then he looked at me, quickly making up for it.

“N-no, of course i am! i’m just saying, if there were a hypothetical mouse, then we couldn’t put outside because it would get hurt.” He responds and I laugh at the hypothetical mouse. 

“Yes, Daniel. I suppose that is true. We couldn’t put the hypothetical mouse outside in the storm. It’d be cruel,” I go along with what he was saying. As long as he isn’t going to mess around with me like I know that all of the other guys will do.

The boys lost their little joke when Jonah asked me a question about school. A loud chorus of ‘jONAH’s came across the room, as well as some frustrated grunts. They could try to come back from it, but as soon as one of them recognizes me, then the whole gig is over. 

“We’re not watching Enchanted again,” Zach looks from across the couch as we all brainstorm movie ideas. 

“that was a fucking cute movie, don’t even with me zachary dean,” I scold, “One of the best movies every created. I’ll say it. Plus, Patrick Dempsey.” 

“It’s a princess movie,” Jack added, “I see enough of those when I go home, I don’t need to see them here too.” 

“Alright, you guys are so picky about your movie choices. It’s literally a perfect movie so stop attacking it,” I retort and Jack laughs. 

“What are we watching, then? Since it’s already 8, and if y/n is getting home safely tonight, she should probably start watching soon,” Daniel states. He is usually the more logical one in situations like these, especially when it comes to safety. He’s always been such a teddy bear and when he gets someone to recognize him for who is really is, that person is going to be the luckiest person in the world. 

“You know what I haven’t seen in a while? Spider-man Homecoming with my man, Tom.” I admit and Zach rolls his eyes at me.

“When was the last time you watched it? This morning?” He played; all of the boys understood my love for the marvel movies, especially the very handsome new spider-man. 

“Last week, but good try,” I look at him, “But I do own it on my amazon account.” 

“Which means it’s a free movie that I haven’t seen,” Daniel adds, “Ok, I’m down to watch it. Everyone agrees?” 

“yeah, whatever,” Jonah agrees. 

“How has she forced me to watch it and not you??”Jack looked at Daniel in shock, “You guys are inseparable and yet, i’ve seen the movie?” 

Daniel and I look at each other and he has a slight rosy color on his cheeks, and i know i do too. I turn back to jack after a second, “Daniel wasn’t home when we watched it.” 

The six of us take our seats on the couch. Zach sat on the big chair, while Corbyn and Jonah sat on the first couch. Jack sat on one end of the second couch, and daniel and i sat in the corner of the other one. The lights were already turned off and I set up the movie, excited. 

I practically drooled at the site of Tom Holland throwing his shirt off during the specific part of the movie. My eyes watched as he threw off the spider-man suit and then turned around, following each of the steps that i’d memorized from watching the movie so often. 

Just as he turned around to face Ned, the television turned off, as did any remaining lights in the house. I gripped onto the blanket a little bit harder and Zach let out a screech. 

Everything paused for a second, until Daniel turned on the flashlight on his phone and quickly mumbled, “fuck.. i think we lost power because of the storm.” 

“and we’d just gotten to the good part,” i tease and i could almost see daniel playfully roll his eyes in the dim light. 

“Well is it coming back on?” Zach asked.

“Probably not for a while,” Jonah tells him, “if we lost power, that means most of los angeles has lost power and we’re not gonna get it back until the morning, at least.” 

“Don’t we have a generator?” Jack questions, trying to figure this uncommon situation out. 

“Yes, but unless you want to go into the garage during this storm, it’s not going to work,” Corbyn states before standing up, “I’m going to bed.” 

“It’s only like eight thirty?” Daniel says, staying put next to me. The other boys begin to move like corbyn.

“Is there anything better to do?” 

“we could all hang out, yaknow?” He suggests, but they all start to pick up their shit.

“In the dark?” Zach questions before moving towards the stairs. Just before he steps up, he turns around looking at me, “See you later, y/n. Safe trip home.” 

the others start to leave daniel and i alone and i mumble to myself, “fuck. how am i gonna get home?” 

“Well you’re not going home in the storm,” Dani shares his thoughts and I stare at him through the dark.

“I don’t want to be a nuisance, dani,” i tell him and he shakes his head.

“Y/n, your apartment probably doesn’t have power either and driving home in the storm risks too many things. We have extra blankets and places to sleep, so just wait the storm out, okay?” He told me and I sigh, giving in to my favorite person, “You can stay in my room, since everyone else seems to have wandered off.” 

“Thanks, daniel. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I admit, sending a friendly smile his way. 

“Of course, y/n. Only the best for you,” There is a moment of sympathetic silence before Daniel stands up, “I’m pretty sure there are some candles around here, do you want to help me look for someone so we can actually see each other?” 

“yea, let’s do it,” The two of stand up and turn the flashlights on our phones on. We begin to wander around the house, searching in different rooms together until we could find a couple candles. It took around ten minutes before we found ourselves back in the living room with three candles and a lighter.

Daniel set them on the table in front of the couch and lit them as I sat back on the cushioned seat. 

“What a great day for a storm,” He says, “But at least you’re here with us, rather than home alone. I don’t know how I’d feel if you were home alone. I mean, what if something happened to you?” 

“Yeah, I guess it’s better to be here than by myself at home,” I tell him, “Thanks for caring about me so much, Daniel. I’ve never had a friend quite as good as you and I don’t know if it’s a connection between us or that I’ve just had really shitty friends my whole life and then you have shown me in every way that you’re not like that, but having you as a friend makes me really happy. You are one of the sweetest guys I know, and you deserve someone who can make you as happy as you make me.” 

“You make me so happy, y/n,” he says, “our friendship, or whatever. i don’t know, but you’re such a fun person to be around and i love you for it.”

there was a brief second where i caught a sparkle in his light blue eyes. until then, i was looking for a sign. any sign. and then the sparkle rolled gently over his eye and within seconds, i pushed my face against his and let our two sets of lips touch. 

he’s predictably surprised by this sudden motion, but takes a second before placing his warm and gentle hand on my cheek and kissing me back. as the seconds go on, i smile into the kiss and the two of us separate. 

“i take it you got the hint,”  he smiles like a child given candy. 

“we’re probably going to regret that after tonight, but i’m glad i did it.”

“why would we regret that?” he looks confused.

“because you’re my best friend and so are the other guys. maybe you won’t regret it, but if something happens between the two of us, i don’t want to affect our friendship or any of my friendships with you all.”

“that’s the last thing i’d want for you y/n. i know how much you mean to the guys and i, i wouldn’t want to do anything to ruin that.” 

“you didn’t do it; i did.” 

“yeah, but at the cost of friendship, y/n. was it worth that?”

“i wish i could say kissing you wasn’t worth losing a few friends, but as much as you guys mean to me, i think that kissing you is something i would do again if put in this situation.”

“i really like you, y/n. a lot. you make me feel alive again, like how music makes me feel, and that means so much to me. but your friendships. that’s something that no guy should be worth risking.”

“and yet you are,” i give him a small smile, “and i think i want to make this work.”

he smiles back, “i do too, y/n. and if we’re gonna do this, we need to set some rules.”

“we can’t tell the guys,” i state, letting out a deep breath and waiting to hear his response. 

[lesbitsch-archive]

“I’d come back to haunt you.” for noah & kasp pls

A simultaneous melody of slurred agreements filled the space between them, the two of them nodding vigorously as they sat crisscrossed on the counter of an empty kitchen that once belonged to someone.

“Yeah–,”

“–Yeah, for su–,”

“– You think?” Noah asked.

“–Definitely.”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

“Yes.”

They’d already had a massive, lengthy discussion about the existence of vampires, and whether or not they would be impacted by the zombie virus. They came to no actual conclusion on that, but they decided they should stay away from any suspected vampires, because they did conclude that there were likely two possibilities: one, they could get the virus and then they’d not only eat your brains but everything else too, and they’d be, like, impossible to kill; two, they were immune, but they’d be probably starving for clean blood and kill Kasper and Noah much faster than a zombie could or would. There were some other good points made, like how shackling up with a vampire for survival sounds like a good idea at first, with immunity and all, but the chance of being its next meal in today’s economy was too high, and if they became vampires themselves, then they’d also be starving, so their first two points were most important, they’d just stay away. They’d finally wrapped up a conversation about werewolves, which were definitely not immune, no doubt. They’d be great to survive with, until one was turned into a zombie… all things downhill from there with a shapeshifting zombie. It would be hard to escape, what with its ability to track them, and worse especially if they were in forestry and they couldn’t see it well.

“What about ghosts?” Noah questioned earnestly, raising a brow and tilting his head forward.

“Oh,” Kasper scoffed, “obviously ghosts are real.”

“Obviously,” Noah agreed, a funny emphasis on his response, nodding his head slowly.

Kasper shrugged, “I thought that before this shit though.”

“That’s because you’re a weirdo,” Noah retorted, bringing the bottle of half drank beer up to his mouth.

Kasper rolled his eyes at Noah, letting that conclude his response. Maybe he was a weirdo. No, he definitely was a weirdo. Did Noah think he was weird? Well, yes, they’d just discussed that, but what he’s wondering about it is if it was a bad weird or a good weird or a weird in between. Did he dislike Kasper? Maybe the only reason he was nice to him and still around was because he didn’t have anyone else to talk to and no other option. He shook his head, not in the mood to get into his head while sitting here with Noah, already overwhelmed due to alcohol and Noah distracting him.

It was strange, his distraction by Noah. He’d never paid attention to people like that before, especially small details for seemingly no reason. He did have a thing about obsessively focusing on things about people that bothered him, like dirty nails, he’d latch his vision on to them and make sure they stayed far away from him. This was different. He just liked to watch him, and didn’t understand the lingering gazes he made sometimes. He was doing it even now, having just watched as Noah brought the bottle up, eyes attentive to his lips closing around the glass. Like, what was that? Could he chock it up to saying it was just the artist in him? His own lips parted when he’d finished taking a drink, Noah’s drunken smile wet with the liquid he’d just consumed.

“If you let me turn into a goddamn zombie, I’d come back to haunt you.” Noah had to try and hold back a drunken laugh through his threat, pointing his finger in Kasper’s face accusatively. “So you better not let it happen, or else.”

“Oh, really?” Kasper laughs, smacking Noah’s hand away from him. “Well, now that I know your plan, if I ‘let’ you become a zombie, I could just let you stay a zombie instead of killing you. Then you can’t.” He furrowed his brows. “Besides, who says you’ll become a ghost? We don’t know how it happens. Not everyone turns into a ghost.” He nodded and looked at Noah triumphantly. “Your threat is meaningless. Full of loopholes.”

Noah glared at him, looking very serious if it weren’t for his expression twitching playfully every few seconds. “Okay,” he huffed, “Well someone would come kill me eventually, and I’d just, like, not follow the light or whatever. So, there. I’ll come back just to drive you into a zombie insane asylum.”

Laughing quietly through his nose, Kasper shook his head. “Alright… We’ll see.”

“Yeah,” Noah said in a cocky tone, “we’ll see.”

“You sound like you want it to happen,” Kasper laughed.

“Well, no, but if it does… –” He shrugged.

“It’d be kind of hard to keep surviving a zombie apocalypse after that,” Kasper mused, resting his back and head against the tiled kitchen wall behind him as he thought aloud. “Not only would I then be without a partner, but I’d also have an annoying ass ghost, which is aforementioned partner, to deal with.”

“Maybe that was the plan all along,” Noah smirked. “If I have to go down I’ll take you with me.” He winked at Kasper, which resulted in Kasper quickly becoming momentarily flustered, his lips pulling into a smile as it passed. “But really, being the geek you are I think you could probably make it. You know, like horror movies, it’s always the unsung heroes to survive. You’re shrimpy but you’re tough and smart.”

Furrowing his brows, Kasper gave him a funny grin. Was it a compliment? Just a statement? He was too tipsy to think about it. He supposed it was true, but it would suck having to go it alone, and he was almost positive it’d be absolutely impossible to find another partner. He wasn’t friendly, he wasn’t sociable, he didn’t like anyone, and finding Noah when he did was a crazy twist of fate. Kasper was still weird and closed off and cold, but Noah stuck it out and even got Kasper to relax a bit, the two of them forming a good little friendship. He didn’t mind being around him, which would sound shitty to most people, but that was the highest ranking someone had ever had from Kasper. Before, the best thing he could give someone was being able to say it wasn’t absolute torture to be around them. Which, by the way, most people were… Torture. To be around.

“Well, I wouldn’t really want to.” Maybe if Noah turned, he’d just shoot Zombie Noah and then himself, instead of having to deal with hordes of zombies all alone. Or even worse? Finding a new partner or group of survivors. Yeah, that’d be way worse than just going it alone. People? Again, torture.

Noah swallowed, his playful expression morphing into a gentle gaze at the blonde. Kasper’s nerves spiked a small amount, already ready to be uncomfortable by the conversation moving away from a joking and casual road. “I thought you preferred to be alone, that you didn’t like people anyway.”

Kasper hesitated, narrowing his eyes at the ceiling. Head still tilted back against the wall, he rolled it to the side and down, pursing his lips and fidgeting with his hands before looking up to the brunette across from him. “I-I do,” he bit his lip, “but I don’t mind so much anymore…” He did. It was only Noah he didn’t mind.

Noah grinned cheekily. “I’ll try not to turn into a zombie then.” He paused, and Kasper raised a brow. “I mean,” he corrected quickly, “you better not let me turn into a goddamn fucking zombie.”

The discomfort Kasper was prepared for was only minor, and it had already passed. Being around Noah was pleasantly, surprisingly easy. He returned Noah’s grin, chuckling quietly. “For you? I’ll do my best.”

“Yeah… That’s what I thought.” He opened another beer and pushed it toward Kasper, noticing his was nearly empty. “…Bitchass.”

“You know it,” he took the bottle with a smirk on his face, the two returning to their usual train of conversation going down a track of stupidity to Dumbassville, “Bastardfuck.”

“Thank you.” Noah batted his eyelashes and opened another for himself. The two made eye contact for a few moments, Noah’s eyes softening shortly before he broke it, chiming in in a very sincere manner, “Okay… but what about mermaids?”

“Oh my god,” Kasper huffed, “Duh!”

[hollowsentinel]

My OCs and Stuff

I've sat on this for too long. It's incomplete, but it's here. If anyone sees this and wants a peek into my head, ask about these peeps/ideas/places before I forget them.

My OCs

I have another list to promote my non-cishet OCs too. There's also a tag.

Rebecca Heller: my firstborn, transgirl (?), lives with her "uncle," makes magical bone cannons and practices swordplay

Vincent Azor: the aforementioned "uncle," vampire, old, technically owns an inn built by a crossroads, good shot with his pistol

Linora Azor: sister to Vincent, deceased?

Richard: nightmare, leader of the Black Knights/Brigade of Zavax, friendly?

Roger: badass, lieutenant to Richard, serious?

Fifer: mage and displacer beast

Mallory: mage and locker-mimic

Kevin: earth-etched, unblessed, practiced structured magic via an enchanted bronze plate, lives with a vampiric symphony member and witchy DJ

Damian: metalworker, later mechanic, son of a witch, once hunted by his "mirror image," survived by kissing and sexing her

Mira: the half-identical mirror image (?), can do tricks with mirrors, tastes like citrus

Matthieu Marchand: also Molten Myth, studies unconventional magic and metallury, spent his teenage years surviving alone in a nonsensical world of sugar, spice, and things trying to kill him, a squire of the Earthen Order

Grindstone: grandfather to Myth, knight of the Earthen Order, badass

“Ninth Lord”: "deceased" knight of the Earthen Order, demon, enjoys escaping hell for brief periods and enjoying romantic literature

Persistent Beast: known as Liam; old, practically immortal, dangerous, ravenous, famous for surviving ridiculous executions; generally terrified of external/uncontrolled sources of heat

"Pop-up Nightmare: known as Jack; famous for brief appearances throughout the ages, often considered a myth, very shy and unassuming

Porcelain Fade: known as Laina; actually a frail girl, known as a famous sex worker (her "double") that gathered a strong following that raised her from her work, her best friends are a realized figment of her imagination and a guy that should be killing her

Ruos Illinde, Pinnacle Hunter: the only hunter that threatens Liam, too gay to die, her girlfriend accidentally mangled her voice, unusually immortal for a human

“Demonolgist-gunner”: son of a witch, dragged to magic college by his friend, hard worker, poor magical prowess, has an independent magic system that lets him summon his weapons

Manager Death: pretty chill, overworked, in charge of all death (human, non-human, deific, and so on), has delegated many tasks to individuals he has waived death from

Sickly Death: a lady from another setting, good friends with Lady Luck, is wished ill by many and so is ill

Knottam Portan: a reaper employed by Manager Death, the "longest-lived" human reaper in Death's employ, lives in an apartment with humans out of the know, sleeps irregularly with the demands of his dayjob and his reaping duties

Lady Death: the crush of Elliah's soul? laid-back, timeless

Nate, Priest of the Abandoned: a table-top gamer that found, saved, and restored a statue of Lady Luck (with his friends), he goes on to enable all forgotten/abandon gods to continue existing and keeping them all company

Entropy: friend to Knottam, pretty chill, can totally end the existence of anything given enough time, likes to travel and experience new things

Elliah “Casper” Redden: sneaky, a reincarnation of Wrath, regularly murders people to keep control of himself

Ethan Moore: kinda popular, gets saved by Elliah and learns how to survive from him, goes on to co-found/lead a crew of students and friends through a warzone

Siet “Hailey” Lenas: saves a bunch of people from danger by avoiding conflicts, sets a lynch mob on Elliah, joins him shortly thereafter, generally pacifistic, adds exception as she learns to get along (and convinces Elliah and Ethan to chill out more in turn)

Lazar Kensley/Laus of Dust: a down-trodden gamer whose exploits decide the fate of a nation; Lazar is his "Earth" name, Laus is his "Lirc" name

Charlie "Barker": Lazar's friend, plays furry Vikings in their game and lives their ideals, aspiring veterinarian

Ikail: a master archer, quiet friend of Lazar

Haniel of Dust: something of a desert spirit, chief leader of the Lirc, adopted Lazar/Laus as her little brother, has a musical whip

Kezal: a master rider, hates Lazar once he is tied to her nation's fate

Sorec: goddess of the Lirc, ex-princess of a neighboring kingdom

Kirituania: DEFUNCT? lesser goddess of the Lirc?

Draskul Aer: DEFUNCT? a rare significant man among the Lirc; drove monsters that the Lirc were unable to effectively combat to near extinction

“King of Coal/Flesh”: a French girl that has sat upon the Hearth's Throne for far too long

“King of Flame/Blood”: a boy steeped in the traditions of pyravol

“King of Bone/Ash”: another girl that pushes the limits of her art

Senai Orathi: overseer of the most complicated world, ex-thief, confined to his new home

Cinneyi: goddess of family and proactive protection, has a crush on "Creator"

Kreyji: goddess of family and reactive protection, Cinneyi's sister

Rafe Lorienne: cleric of Cinneyi and necromancer by her request

"Creator": Senai's predecessor and assumed to be the creator of the most complicated world

Seriqad: the last of his people, attuned to the spirit of death, has red eyes that he regularly disfigures to hide his heritage, a sort of lich

Arhias: a paladin sent to hunt Seriqad, befriends him over the course of a lifetime instead

Nuemin Tilus: the biggest jerk, born to a rich family, has a little sister that he regularly harassed/abused

Mint Nuelle: friend of Dodger, later hunts down draft dodgers, pioneers the use of soulfire bonds as torture tools

Dodger Stone: soulfire adept, illusionist, murders Nuemin and steals his identity

Aster Xilhu: succubus that binds herself to Dodger as his familiar

Lillian: prodigy diviner, one of the few that challenges Dodger to do better, practices demon summoning and related taboo magics

"Demon Bro": Lillian's brother and a demon of some renown

Esri Lyrrhn: excellent mage, excels in indirect combat, works as head of security and secondary chief administrator at Iolech (?)

Hel: bitchy model that gets sucked up by Alskur

Mercy: useless nerd that gets sucked up by Alskur

Lecil: tendril-morph, works as security and sells baked goods on the side

Tamara: Maria Eschil Loew, librarian, chief practicioner of dangerous magic; lives with Lecil

Jonathan Sieffas: went to art school and studied to be a construct technician as a secondary option, abandoned both when his girlfriend was murdered by exorcists, became an exorcist

Kjekerva Austre: Kayla, sentient pair of panties made by an accomplished, pro-sex mage

Jay: AKA "J:\\", a digital avatar? something of a killswitch in a digital setting where everyone and everything is data, programming, artificial intelligence, etc

Charlie: AKA "C:\\" (?), a dick in the same setting as Jay

Delia: internal intelligence agent, Yinnic, totally an assassin, totally botched her murder-suicide of a suspected defector/spy, racist as shit?

Anise: talented ship security, Yinnic, recruited as muscle in a long-term stealth op, was totally used as incentive to try to get other recruits in

Kino: daughter of an ex-intelligence agent, Dekar, skilled marksman

Janeo: daughter of an ex-intelligence agent, Dekar, skilled infiltrator

Osric: hopeful radio operator/technician, Yinnic, conscripted as a tank operator, learned to act as a spy as a matter of survival

Seamus: a prototype Yinnic supersoldier, really nice guy, really tough guy, was totally bait for hopeful recruits

Chelsea: the only "regular" soldier going out on the stealth op, Yinnic, fell hook, line, and sinker for Anise and Seamus

Ollie: also Olivia/Oliver, genderfluid space fighter pilot or some such, kind of badass, kind of nerdy, very good at zero-G combat, low self-worth (and takes full advantage of that to do crazy shit)

Laika: friend of Ollie, smuggler, trader, and captain of a stealth vessel

Jesse Albrecht: a horror game critic/guide-maker, director of the Cabinet Corps

Desmond Locke: prophetic (?) game-designer, owner of the Locke-r Arcade, was totally a cool kid back in high school and ran an arcade out of his locker at the time

Beverly Vigor/Ainsley Flow: "librarian" for a small selection of restricted books that travels and connects to larger collections willy-nilly

Gunman Gamma/Old God Kiirkxin: technically an old spirit, has many titles and names, would like to forget some of them, somewhat chill, lost all of his followers to a plague, isn't over their deaths centuries later, older than the flow of time (and can recognize weird things because he's not bound by time), later depicted as nubby horned and white haired

Xion & Teo/Seijin: intertwined souls, Gamma's champion and spring, can totally rewrite timelines

"Phoenix": a fire god/spirit that crushes on Gamma, regularly dies and comes back

"Invincible Mountain": rival to Gamma (Relentless Gale), rules over a massive mountain city

Zershaln: life portioner/thief and advisor

Esukal: life granter/puppeteer and priestess

Yequln: life ender/warden and tailor

Prosper: executioner of the Gravel Guard, actually pretty chill and unlikely to execute anyone

Juuha: ascended demon

Tyler Hoffman: judge, jury, warden, and servant of an alien, fan of cartoon wherein alien is depicted, smith, kind of a wizard eventually, dies and comes back to life several times, kind of unkillable

Thomas Baker: programmer, works alongside mythical creatures, has no idea until after he bluffs a gang and inadvertently "burns" his veil, sees everyone amd everything as what they are, has to put effort into seeing their disguises

Hunter Hunter Halsey: modern day monster hunter, does more diplomacy than hunting, has about as much sexual intercourse as verbal intercourse at some point, dressed/trained old-fashioned at patron's request

"Patron": a vampire hunted by time mages

Nolan: a Dreamer that is "acutely aware of all threats", intended, actionable, possible, and acted

Faye Scoria: national criminal, can summon/control fire

Scum: one of the Covenant, regenerates in a parasitic manner, hive-minded over their lives, but tends toward using one vessel

Bitch: one of the Covenant, usually Major Bitch as per their military rank (and something of a joke)

Bud: one of the Covenant, not Buddy

Jill, the All-seeing Witch: Ruos' runaway girlfriend and substitute horror hunter

Lacey: stripper, has a retired intelligence agent as a brother, leader/creator of the Escort Service (kind of a gang, kind of a bodyguard business, kind of a prostitution ring)

Trevor: skittish ex-conscript with an erased service record, kind of remembers overlapping timelines of the span wherein he was shelled in trenches, sees his week-long stint as several months

Zachary: AKA Beta, Bee, or Plan B, supers' supportive vigilante, experienced mountain climber, college kid, eventually joins their ranks after an incident

Shan: may become defunct, a Dreamer that creates shadows of people that he can command, they have limited operating range, owns the Midnight Lounge

Hikaru: martial street performer

Jill, Shadow Demon: the demon that Hikaru plays at

"Jane Doe": big, caffeine addict, smells of the sea, "brick-like," an unexpected OC, but a fast favorite after a few key events and chats

Places

Zavax: country of necromancers

The Void: the place of men and beasts unfit for mortal realms

The Overworld: current home of Senai Orathi and other "gods"

Alskur: the city of arms and armor; the desire of the nal'orose

Yinnia: nerds have their own country and send conscripts to war in mechs

Dekar: bullies have their own country and go to war with greedy nerds

"Gear Mall": high-tech skaters have their own city-state where everyone skates; they are literally the biggest mall

Associations/Groups

The Dreamers: a bunch of people that dropped into inexplicable comas, shared a dream, and gained supernatural powers

Horror Hunters: a loose association of monster hunters

Oschn Clan: more a band of like-minded horror hunters that specialize in dueling other hunters to learn their techniques than a proper clan

Guillotine: a guild of player-killers run by a group of criminals

The Covenant: usually "of Blood", sometimes "of Dust", composed of many near-human people that never truly die (but they totally die a lot)

[wagooglet]

TELL ME ABOUT YOUR OCS!!!!

ashdsjfs i’m so glad you want to hear about them..!!! i have two vague shitposts here + here- but i think it’s time i… (gently, i begin to sit down at a table) elaborate. under the cut cuz it’s kinda a lengthy read. :’D thanks for your interest! 

All of this madness begins with an emo kid by the name of Yukio Tamotsu. Because he’s so emo and technically not a human, he likes to trot around and act like he’s big fucking shit. He grew up in a household which condoned violence, but.. uh, it doesn’t condone his actions. To put it in layman’s terms, he’s a complete nutcase. Yukio seeks for perfection (something he isn’t, cough cough), and takes it upon himself to make others perfect. He’s charming, at a glance- and uses his charm to lure people who he believes have a potential for perfection. This perfection he gets by.. hurting them. He scratches them up, burns them, cuts them, with the thought they’ll become ethereal beings in the end. Which never happens, considering that he’s torturing normal humans. As soon as he finds that they’ll never be his nonexistent standard of perfection, he decides to beat them up about it (physically and mentally), often to the point where they mentally submit to him (and he can possess them to let them be his like.. pawns.)

Enter Mikiko Orochi; a 19 year old man with ginger hair and a beaming smile. Naturally speaking, he isn’t perfect- but Yukio sees that potential in him. And.. uh, well, everything you think happens. Yukio tricks Mikiko into a friendship (Mikiko foolishly believes Yukio loves him), only to trap him in his house. Of course, since Yukio isn’t human, other forces have to interfere. About 9-10 months into the whole.. Mikiko.. snatchery, an outside force (my partner’s oc) confronts Yukio, kills him, and takes Mikiko from his possession. There’s something special about Yukio, though. His power (albeit, his only), has a regenerative ability. As many times as his conscience wills him, Yukio comes back. There’s a catch or two, however. One, you don’t come back the same. Meaning, your physical appearance is more dilapidated. Two, it’s an extremely painful process. Mikiko goes off to live with this man (the man that saved him, named Sig), while Yukio goes crawling back to his boss, in retrospect. That being Michael.

Michael’s an incredibly powerful, benevolent demon. Heir to the throne to a now fallen kingdom whiles back; he was trapped in a rock (yeah.. a rock. Mikiko’s pet rock, to be precise) for an innumerable amount of years. Of course, Yukio doesn’t have an actual job, but he looks up to Michael. Michael owns a large, ivory mansion and has plenty of space to house Yukio. He doesn’t like Yukio in the slightest, but he sees a potential in his power, thus keeping him around. Yukio whines, of course, and Michael doesn’t listen. Later on, Sig comes to meet with Michael, unbeknownst to him that Yukio’s there. Incredibly long story short, Yukio throws a temper tantrum (like he does, always), and Sig and Michael get married.

In a distant completely dictatorial kingdom, dubbed Thot Land: Home of Hoes, their judicial system is FUCKED. They have one person in charge (he is qualified for his job, though), and he uses his big eye to peer into people’s souls. His name’s Tony Bo Bony The Pizza Slut (Tony, for short), and he’s a judge. He uses his powers to peer into other’s souls and judge them. Pretty much, he can see into people’s memories, and sense the truth. With this, all verdicts are made PRETTY easily, right? Wrong. The king wants everything to himself, of course. As soon as Tony makes his verdict, he has to send it into the king to be verified. Most cases go with Tony’s verdict, however, almost all cases of treason are voted guilty, whether or not the suspect was proven guilty by Tony’s magic. So.. it’s shit and fuck over there. Tony has no friends, since they were the type to giggle about overthrowing the king. The King took this lighthearted banter seriously, and had all his friends hung (in front of Tony, because what good king wouldn’t?)

Respectfully.. this dude’s really promiscuous. The king, anyhow. Most anyone in the legal system is a succubus- and they use this to their advantage.

Yukio had kids. In case you were even wondering who’d bed with the damn guy, someone did, and he had two kids. With his ideology, you can tell that they did not turn out well. (i.e, making babies have fucking gladiator fights.) Of course, someone finally noticed, and during Yukio’s.. eternal punishment, he was taken by the king of demons™ to work as a maid. Nowadays, he spends most his time in a dog muzzle and a dress, working and being spat on by people he hurt. Karma sucks like a bitch. 

Yukio has a brother named Jax. Nothing to note about him- he’s incredibly powerful (almost as powerful as Michael), but he doesn’t flaunt it a lot. Of course, Yukio killed him when they were children in a vain attempt to impress his father, so Jax was.. sent to work at an interdimensional Chili’s. Okay, so he isn’t actually at a Chili’s (it’s an inside joke), but he’s prying for a promotion. He spends most his time with another demon, and trying to make amends for his brother’s heinous acts against his children. 

Oh, and meanwhile, Mikiko’s hit his damn growth spurt. He hasn’t seen a dear friend for about 11 years (cough cough, crush), so he goes to law school in hopes to be able to meet up with this person once more. And that takes up most the 11 years he’s vanished. He does meet up with the friend, things get gay. He’s an international prosecutor and my boy. is. beefy.  He started working out in hopes to make himself stronger (physically, and mentally).

Oh, and there’s an awkward historian waving in the background. Nothing special about him. His name’s Riley and he has a really old cat. He’s awkward as fuck dude. 

There’s also Atlas- a deity who turned out to be the king in the aforementioned kingdom Michael was supposed to rule. He floats around and acts like a TV announcer. He’s currently working with one of Yukio’s sons (Seth, the other named Laurent), to help the poor kid feel better. 

that’s all! it took a while to write up, but there you have it! i know i forgot something, just ‘cuz there’s a lot, but a lot of the worldbuilding was done with my wonderful partner! i don’t have a lot of my ocs drawn, but you can see, like, four of them here, if you so desire. thanks a ton! i love talking about my ocs!

[theskoomacat]

I translated this (x) monologue of one of the survivors of homophobic repressions in Chechnya as I think it will provide a lot of useful information on the current situation. (+ notes from another article in the end) 

I beg you to at least skim through this as a lot of misinformation is being shared here rn.

Apologize for any mistakes. Tw for homophobia, torture, death, suicide, drugs, alcohol, abuse?

“ I’m gay. I’m not open about it. Even my wife doesn’t know. She’s pregnant with our fourth child. I have a big family, but no one knows that I’m gay. But if i get a chance to meet with someone, I’m not going to refuse. I need it. I don’t think that’s my fault. Maybe it’s natural, maybe it’s a sickness.

In our republic no one wears piercings, long hair, etc; no one shows their orientation. Do I look like I’m gay? Neither do others. A lot of them have families. As a matter of fact, everyone has a family. We don’t come out here. No one uses their real photos on dating websites. None of the local gay people know each other’s real names, where they work, live. Everyone has a nickname, it makes things difficult. They look for Musa, but actually you are Saeed.

I worked - and I worked hard, we had enough money. I had a friend, he is gay as well. We met rarely, very rarely. And we had a mutual acquaintance. Don’t know what they two had in common. I knew both of them. People saw them talking to me. And then that acquaintance introduced me to his relative. And then that relative was arrested for something - and, it seems, they looked through his phone. His contacts made them realize he wasn’t straight. That lead them to me.

A policeman called me: “Where are you? Get ready, I’m coming over.” I immediately swapped my phone for another one, without any contacts. Came out of the house - they were already there. Bent me over in the car so I couldn’t see where we were going. I understood from the start that they took me for being gay. Rifled through my phone, didn’t find anything.

Lead me into a basement. Doors were this thick, it was damp there. It was very hard. That boy was already there - the relative of that man. And our mutual acquaintance was let go - for turning us in.

They have been beating me up for the first few hours. I had a big hematoma here, my ribs were broken. Then electrocution. A special coil, metal pegs on ears or hands - and here we go. I endured. It was more painful morally. Like they say, you can recover from a stab wound, but not from a wound made by a word. They ruined my psyche. They were looking for my friend - couldn’t find his number. I told them I knew everyone like acquaintances, like neighbours, that I have a family. I said: if I’m gay, bring a single man here who will confirm that I was with them. I will swear it’s untrue. And I would swear.

They guy who was with me - an athlete, handsome. A very good guy. He didn’t surrender either. Only shouted very loudly. I yelled to him: make up something for them. He was in so much pain.

There were a lot of rooms in that basement. You can hear everything but you can’t see it. We spent a week there. They didn’t feed us at all. Just starved us. No food, no water. They allowed us to pray. You go to the toilet, perform your ablution and drink quickly.

There is a guy in [Chechnya’s capital]. He is famous among gay people as a style icon. Naturally, the straights who see him suspect, but can’t tell for sure. And the soldier who interrogated me, it seemed, has been looking for information for a long time. But they still had no proof. They found him, brought him there. I am being interrogated, and suddenly they bring him in. “Do you know him?” Thankfully, we saw each other. I say: I don’t. And that guy heard that I didn’t tell them anything about him. And he said he didn’t know me neither. They started lying to him: he says you’re gay. He responds: how? I don’t know him at all, we’re not friends. And they can’t accuse him, so they let him go. He’s abroad now. Everyone was lucky he got out in time. He has no children, he lives his own life. And he wouldn’t endure this torture.

While they held us there they finally found my friend’s address. Came to his home but his parents said he is in Rostov. And warned him afterwards. He immediately sold his real estate at half-price and left the country. It saved us. They let us go soon.

They told me not to leave, to be available at any time: “No word to anyone, be in contact with us all the time”. Me and my family have been planning to move right before everything happened. And, of course, as soon as I was free we moved. I started working, slowly everything came back to normal. Only I turned completely grey, people couldn’t recognize me on the street.

My relatives… If they learned about it, they wouldn’t even let me be killed - they would kill me themselves. They wouldn’t tolerate this disgrace. They knew I was arrested, but they didn’t know for what. They asked the policeman who brought me there - he said he didn’t know, was just transporting me. My relatives were upset, he doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, he’s proper, doesn’t do anything bad. One policeman said there were rumours that I was gay. [Relatives said] “How can he be gay, he has a family.” But they didn’t look for me anymore. I came home and told everyone: “They were looking for my acquaintance, wanted to find him through me”. Later one of my relatives led me aside and said: “I heard a rumour, I almost died from shame”. I’m like, that’s not true, how can I be gay, you know me, that’s all lies.

And at the same time the wave [of gay people disappearing] started. How did it happen? An obsession has started in our republic… An obsession as in - vodka has been banned. You almost can’t buy alcohol anywhere, only in two-three places max only during few hours. Everyone switched to pills - [i don’t know how to translate these names], psychoactive. A lot of people got hooked on them. And one guy got arrested for that. They confiscated them, took his phone: found “Hornet”, photos. Began taking people starting from there. Such a tragedy happened because of this accident.

People were held in Zozin-urta. I know this for a fact. My relative works there. He doesn’t know about me. Calls me and says: “How’re you doing? Can you imagine we have so many gays in Chechnya?” I say: Really?? How can this be? “Turns out, we now have 200 people arrested for that. Even that one guy.” He’s a local celebrity. I say: “I can’t believe that”. “Yes, he was brought in. We’ve got the authority to catсh them now.” I ask: why? “To disgrace them. We call their relatives, turn on the camera, well, and - your guy is like this, do something about it. We do it or you do it. You kill him or we do, choose.” They film probably to have evidence.

A man I knew was taken back then. They let him go, he died at home by himself the next day. I know names of those killed by relatives. There was one guy, from Poland or Germany, he could come and go. A cheerful guy. He came to the republic - he was caught as well. They held him for 40 days. When he left his legs were black.

Why did I ran away? My previous neighbour called: soldiers came, were looking for me. She lied to them she didn’t know to where we moved. One of my acquaintances was caught the same day. Let them go almost immediately - weren’t looking for him. But he heard them say my name. He called me: hide, disappear, they’re coming after you.

I got scared, started running between acquaintances. Didn’t trust anyone. Only a friend told me [about the “Russian LGBT Network” hotline]. Although, I’ve heard about it from other people, but I didn’t believe. Everything can be bought, and I have a family. Not for myself - I need to live for my family, I have children, I can’t take risks. But I listened to him, trusted my friend, and here I am now. My parents don’t know where I am. I didn’t even tell my wife. I lied that an acquaintance offered me a job. She was like, if it’s really so good, go.

I barely started recovering from all this, I drink glycine, pills. Forget about being beaten up - but psychologically… They psychologically killed me there. If it wasn’t a sin to hang myself, I would do it. I sleep and jump up with fear. I come outside and I feel like I’m being watched. I’m scared of phones. If a car stops next to me, I dash aside. I don’t even want to live in Moscow. They’re everywhere.

There is no way back for me. I don’t know where I’m going, what is going to happen to me. I know one thing: if I manage to successfully move I’m finding a job and taking my family with me. And not even my children - my grandchildren are not going to return to Chechnya. As long as I am alive I won’t let them. I am scared for them. I know how much my children are attached to me. My daughter doesn’t go to sleep if I’m not around. She cries, do you get it? And I can’t go home right now.

How did I deserve this? I want to lead a normal life like everyone. To work. To drink, to eat. To pay taxes. I never oppressed anyone, never asked anything from anyone. I’ve been working my entire life. I am not guilty that I am gay. I don’t organize pride parades against their will. And if a person gets caught in a situation, I don’t think he should be killed. It shouldn’t be advertised. He should be helped. Maybe put him in a hospital. Maybe there is a cure. Or we need to resign ourselves to it. “

This (x) article also contains info provided by the aforementioned “Russian LGBT Network”. 4-5 people call them for help every day. They’re trying to organize psychological rehabilitation for all survivors, but it’s hard because men don’t want to seem weak. People don’t believe anyone (for a good reason) so it’s hard to come in contact with them and help them, the ones who do do so because their only other option is to be killed. The survivors say the most dangerous people to them are their relatives - they don’t blame them though because that’s just how things are. A lot of refugees can’t get a job because they’re afraid that if they reveal their documents they will be found - the network is getting messages that people from Chechnya even started to come to other regions to look for their “disgraced” relatives. The government calls all this unconfirmed information, but all these people have no reason to lie about all this, moreover most of them have obvious injuries after the torture they were through. There is a chance this shit is slowly starting in neighbour regions.

Thank you for reading

[lucifermagne]

St. Gerald at Aurillac --

Gerbert had travelled to Spain, where he became the apprentice of a Muslim magician of wondrous powers. Gerbert came to realize that all of the magician's powers came from the spells that were contained in a book that he kept under lock and key. At the same time, the magician began to suspect that Gerbert wanted to steal his secrets and take them away with him, and so began to watch him very closely and to hide the key to the chest in which he kept his book. The magician had a beautiful daughter, and Gerbert seduced her with the promise of taking her away with him and marrying her. The duped girl helped Gerbert put a drug in her father's evening wine and, when he had fallen into a stupor, got the key from where he had hidden it, opened the chest, and gave Gerbert the book.

Gerbert immediately fled, leaving the girl behind. When the magician awoke and saw what had happened, he got his horse, which could run faster than the wind, and his dog, which could track anything or anyone over or under both ground and water. As he came to the bridge at Martorell, Gerbert heard the magician riding after him and knew that he had to escape the magician's dog. He quickly climbed over the side of the bridge and hung by his hands beneath it. Since he was neither above or below either the earth or water, the dog lost his scent, and the baffled magician finally returned home, leaving Gerbert with the book of spells.

Some say that he prayed to Satan to save him from the magician, and that Satan wafted him away beyond the sea. In order to get home, Gerbert agreed to give his soul to Satan, and Satan, in turn, promised to give him powers even greater than those contained in the book of spells. The proof that this story is the correct one is found in the fact that Gerbert kept a human head with him and would put the head on his desk and converse with it through the night, learning many secrets and about the future from it.

From what is gained from this passage (and outside sources), this book is known to subdue the Devil for the case of using aforementioned text; however, with every ancient book comes the greater risk of the people holding it to hunt any who steal their prized possession. In order for you to spare yourself the fate of this (death, torture, having your precious text stolen back), selling your soul to the Devil will likely become the bargain you pay to protect yourself in life. This, in of itself, diminishes the power you have over him in any written text, thus making it difficult to gain unholy amounts of power.

[global-justice-blog]

Solitary: Torturous Arguments It Isn’t Torture

By Thomas J. Shuman (C’17) 

The UN Convention Against Torture defines torture as:

“-any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession, punishing him for an act he or a third person has committed or is suspected of having committed, or intimidating or coercing him or a third person, or for any reason based on discrimination of any kind-” 

Of important note here is the inclusion of mental pain and suffering and the acknowledgement that torture need not leave physical marks to qualify as inhumane. 

This aspect is especially important when analyzing the American criminal justice system and, in particular, solitary confinement. Not all prisoners placed in solitary confinement experience physical violence, but the psychological effects of isolation are severe, largely unacknowledged by prison authorities, and seen as a proportional response to bad behavior or character.  As a result, solitary confinement, as it is currently implemented by innumerable private prisons across the United States, is torture in terms of the United Nations definition of such acts.

Advocates of solitary confinement often describe it as a place for “the worst of the worst” and those who are unable to maintain good behavior in General Population. The implications of this argument are that solitary confinement will

A.   Cure the prisoner of their violent/undesirable behaviors and

  B.  Protect them from the outside community

However, there is nothing about solitary confinement’s effect on prisoners that suggests these effects are even remote possibilities.  Solitary has not been shown to have any restorative or beneficial effects and, in his essay The Trauma of Psychological Torture, Terry Kupers found that “almost ninety per cent of [residents] had difficulties with ‘irrational anger,’ compared with just three per cent of the [prison’s] general population.”  While this statistic does not tell us whether these residents had these difficulties before solitary confinement, it shows clearly that there is a fundamental developmental difference between General Population and solitary confinement.

The governments of the world know this, too; according to a report of the UN Human Rights Council Special Rapporteur on torture, Juan Mendez, the purpose of solitary confinement according to the States that use it are as follows:

a. To punish an individual (as part of the judicially imposed sentence or as      part of a disciplinary regime);

b. To protect vulnerable individuals;

c. To facilitate prison management of certain individuals;

d. To protect or promote national security;

e. To facilitate pre-charge or pretrial investigations.

Nowhere in this list of priorities is the rehabilitation or mental health of prisoners mentioned.  The first and immediate priority is punishment.

Even in a punitive prison program, the use of practices that break or further degrade its residents is not only ineffective, but, I would argue, illegal under the aforementioned international law.  Given that solitary confinement, from its conception up until the present day, has had obviously detrimental effects and been intentionally used chiefly as an especially onerous method of punishment for suspected or committed acts, the only thing standing between defining it as common practice and defining it as torture is the establishment that severe pain and suffering results from the use of solitary confinement.

This case is not hard to make.  In Mendez’ Interim report, he describes the conditions as the primary attributes of solitary cells as follows: “location in a separate or remote part of the prison; small, or partially covered windows; sealed air quality; stark appearance and dull colours; toughened cardboard or other tamperproof furniture bolted to the floor; and small and barren exercise cages or yards.”  These conditions, combined with “deprivation of food, water, sleep...temporal disorientation due to denial of natural light…[and] induced desperation through indefinite detention” as described by Kupers can only create an environment hostile to recovery, rehabilitation, and continued participation in society.  These conditions would induce a weakened physical and mental state on their own and the impact can only be harsher when resentful or abusive guards are added into the equation as a prisoner’s only human interaction.  Visitation is often denied or restricted to a glorified Skype call and programming for prisoners in solitary confinement is rare.

Perhaps the most damning effect solitary has on a prisoner is the degradation of one’s ability to participate in society over time.  A key aspect of torture is the lingering effects that the practice has on its victim.  Flashbacks or altered behavior are examples of this and many prisoners coming out of solitary, whether they return to GenPop or are released to the outside world, are reclusive, choosing to live a free life closer to the life they knew on the inside than their life before prison. The lack of programs or communities for those released from prison means that the trauma solitary confinement inflicts on these men and women may go untreated for the rest of their lives.

Solitary confinement is the kind of evil that looks useful at first glance, especially when it is sold to society by experts and prison officials, whom we are brought up to trust implicitly, and used against criminals, whom we are taught to hate.  This rhetoric and viewpoints selling the practice do not take away from the horrific and damaging effects it has on the people who are forced to endure it. It is ineffective as a deterrent against violence, counterproductive as a rehabilitative tool, and condemned on a global scale as torture and beyond reprehensible.  The continued use of it in America on anyone, let alone those prisoners guilty of minor infractions, is a striking blemish on the record of human rights in the United States and, for the sake of consistency in our global rhetoric and actions, should be abolished or completely restructured immediately.