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writeintrees · 3 years

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Karo

Summary: set in a D&D type fantasy world, a man named Karo has put his past life behind him. That is, until his past catches back up to him and makes him doubt if he ever changed in the first place. His boyfriend sets him straight on that

Wrote this in a frenzy one night when I couldn’t sleep. Here’s the spotify playlist to go with Karo’s life story

Content warning: toxic family relationship, manipulation, implied past sex work and stealing while underage, transphobia, deadnaming and misgendering

2579 words

Karo smiles as he leans against his boyfriend Eumont in the back of the cart. He lets his eyes flutter closed with contentment. It has been days since they’ve seen anyone resembling bandits, and Bug is awake now to keep watch, her chin propped up on her quarterstaff.

“Hey K,” his boyfriend nudges him, “you get some shuteye. You’ve been up for a while.”

“Okay. But Eu? Let me know if you need me?”

“Will do.” Eumont gives a smile and a small wave as Karo pulls his cloak around himself and curls among their belongings and the two other sleeping party members.

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They are covered in mud and smell rank from the time on the road. But they have finally reached a town and that means bathing and warm food and beds. Karo is looking forward to that last one the most. His shoulder is aching from sleeping on the wood of the cart.

Adelaide goes to find an inn while they shop for supplies. Karo is mostly just wandering around and looking at the trinkets around them. There is nothing he particularly needs. He has always travelled light.

Farrell is haggling for magic components. Eumont has a list of food and other supplies but is not in a rush to find them. They will be in town for a few days looking for a job. Adelaide does not take long to return with news of warm beds for the night.

Karo spots him first. Ice water floods his veins and he forgets how to expand his chest. The horror plays so vividly on his face that Eumont stops his pleasant conversation and turns around, hand on his sword hilt. But there is nothing that would stand out to anyone but Karo. The man is dressed in ambiguous clothing as his job requires. The only thing that stands out is the metal hairpin in the shape of the moon. Identical to the one wrapped in velvet and shoved deep into Karo’s pocket. The one he brings out when he is alone and watches the sharp edges reflect in the moonlight.

The man looks around casually and his eyes pinpoint onto Karo with a smile that could only be described as predatory. He begins to cross the distance between them in this corner of the square. Karo looks back to find his party gathered behind him, in position for a fight but without weapons out yet.

Karo steps forward and widens his cloak to cover his party from view. It does not escape him that he goes to hide Eumont first and foremost. Eumont, he thinks with a pang. His boyfriend should never be brought into all this. The two of them should never share the same space.

“Karo? Want me to take care of this guy?” Bug asks with a crack of her knuckles. Karo shakes his head and wishes desperately that none of them would draw attention to themselves. He does not want the predator to turn his attention their way. He would rather take the brunt of it.

“Oh Khloe, you’ve got them all wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?” He sneers, his voice dripping with more honey and venom than should be possible with so few words.

Karo steps back as if he has been slapped. Nothing could have prepared him for that voice again. He stops himself from running. Running never did him any good, and it would get back to mother and he would never hear the end of it. It doesn’t matter that he has been gone for years, that he no longer lives under her thumb, it feels like he never left. Tears gather in his eyes but he forces himself to look up from where his head is bowed. “Leave.” He wonders at even the little bit of strength he managed to force into his own voice.

“Come on, Khloe, don’t be like that. You always did get catty around your marks. Territorial, that’s what mother would say. Oh poor mother, her baby girl leaving without so much as a note.” He makes a show of looking Karo up and down with disapproval. “Maybe if you clean up a little before coming home you won’t break her heart entirely.”

Karo tries not to audibly inhale with each of the verbal lashes whipped his way. He is mostly successful. He squares his shoulders and looks his brother in the eyes. “I’m not kidding Jace. I’m not like you and mother anymore. I’m out.”

“Aww, got attached to these ones, did you? Don’t you know by now that family are the only ones you can really trust? You always were naive but I didn’t think you were this stupid.”

“I think you should go.” He manages through clenched teeth. His whole body is wound impossibly tight.

“She’d be disappointed to see you now. Oh well-” He says with an exaggerated sigh, “Guess even if we give and give, there’s always going to be the black sheep of the family. So ungrateful. One day you’ll come back around. I’ll tell mother it looks as if you’ve stooped almost to rock bottom. We’ll be expecting you back soon.” He turns on his heel, every movement full of confidence and authority.

Karo hates how even now he is taking notes from his brother. He hates how he wishes he could hold himself that way. He watches to make sure Jace is leaving before a sob wracks his body. He clutches his arms around his ribcage and wills his knees to stay locked. Something touches his shoulder and he wheels around.

Eumont catches his raised fist easily, even though they are usually equally matched. “Hey. Do you want to talk?” Behind him the rest of his party is watching him with wide eyes.

Karo had honestly forgotten that they were there. His brain had just told him there was something he needed to protect. Something he did not want poisoned by Jak, by mother. And now they know, or at least suspect what he used to be. What he probably still is deep down. Every instinct to run. To leave in the night and not look back.

Bug cocks her head. They were marks in the beginning, Jak is right. Jak is always right and it fucking sucks. And now his friends -- his marks he reminds himself bitterly -- are watching him warily and they know he is a no good lowlife and not even a good one at that. If he’s got the guts to be a con artist and a liar and a thief, he should at least be good at it. He’s a disappointment.

Tears well up so high that they blur the faces of his worried party members. Probably wondering what he’s going to do now that he’s caught. A snake is always most dangerous when cornered. A panic floods him at the thought of hurting them, suddenly conscious of the dagger brushing against his fingertips.

Tears spill from his right eye and he can see Eumont reaching for him again. He ducks away from the touch and feels another pang at the hurt and lost expression on the other’s face. There he goes again. Just like the looks of marks who he’d tied up. Ones he’d tricked into thinking they were in love before going and stealing everything of value and leaving them confused and without a single piece of truthful information.

“I- I’m sorry.” He chokes out. Then he’s running. His feet are pounding onto the packed earth.

He is fast. That was the thing that mother always held over his siblings. He could outpace any authorities or bedraggled lovers. He remembers his mother’s voice when he was little after he ran away with some noblewoman's silver necklace “Khloe is my little falcon. She will eat well tonight.” He took pride in putting food in the mouths of himself and his three siblings on many occasions before they started doing the big jobs. Before they started working for the Baron. Code name of course, no way that guy is an actual baron, with all the illegal shit he gets up to.

He runs up the slope of a bluff then notices when he tries to catch his breath that most of the heaving is from tears and not exertion. He sits near the cliff to watch the sun set over the mountains across the way. The tears keep coming, the breeze leaving his face cold. He tucks his hands beneath his knees and continues to sob until he feels light and empty. That is, until he thinks too hard about mother, about what Jace said today, about the life he left behind.

There is noise behind him. He traces their footsteps. One set walks slowly but not stealthily through the grass to his right. Then there is a shape in his peripheral vision.

He glances up just enough to confirm that it is Eumont. The others aren’t far behind, but they are giving some distance. He jerks his gaze back forward. Guess Eu was the only one stupid enough to get within dagger range. Jokes on them, he’d be able to get to them faster than they’d believe. Then he realizes that he has shown his hand dozens of times, using his speed and daggers and cunning in fights. Why’d he done that? There’s the sound of someone sitting beside him.

“How’d you find me?” He says, looking forward. The sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

“Locate creature.” Eumont says easily. His voice is level and not full of the anger that Karo was expecting.

“Shit.” Karo unwinds one of his arms from around his knees and rubs at his eyebrows. Caked dirt crumbles beneath his fingertips and he grimaces. What would mother say if she saw him. It has been so long since he has thought about mother. “I’m so sorry I lied to you- to you all, I mean.”

“About what?”

Karo turns his baffled expression Eu’s way. He looks almost smug. No, that’s what Jace would look like in this situation. Eu looks like he got his way, but in a much different way than his siblings would. “What do you mean ‘about what?’ Did you- did you not hear him?” He allows hope to bloom in his chest. Maybe they can go on like usual.

“I heard. I was there. But I don’t see why you have to apologize?”

“Because you know what I am now? He’s right about me.”

“No he’s not.” Eu replies easily.

“What would you know?” He snaps. The venom in his words is familiar, and he wishes just from his family members’ mouths. His fight drains into resignation that this is just how things are. “See?” He says half to himself. “I was raised a viper and that’s what I’ll always be, a fucking black widow. A conniving temptress murderer thief.

“I’m dangerous. I-” The tears start to drip down his cheeks again. “I don’t want to hurt you all. And if that means I can’t be with you… Well I’d rather you were all safe.”

Eumont reaches forward and easily pulls a crying Karo to his shoulder. He gently shushes him and rubs the back of his head.

“I thought I had gotten better. I wanted to be a better person than them but I must be worse than them if even mother thinks I’m a lowlife.”

“You are so much better than they could ever be. I don’t know what we were at first, but that’s not how people treat their marks. You would rather sacrifice yourself to keep us all safe.” That’s proof you aren’t what he said you are.”

He realizes that Eu is right, at first ashamed that he has messed up so bad. Then his mind quickly transitions back to who he has become in these past few years away from his biological family. He loves these people. He doesn’t treat people like marks anymore. He’s put this life behind him.

He cries himself out. The sky is getting dark and they have to go back to town to the lodging that Adelaide set up for them. Eu squeezes Karo’s hand as the two of them walk towards the others.

Bug uses her staff to get up and reaches down to help Farrell up as well. Adelaide makes indignant comments about being left on the ground but is ignored as Bug takes a step forward. Karo readies himself for a blow. His mind is still in his childhood home. Bug changes her good natured punch into a smile and easy lean on her staff. If the position also clearly indicates she’s not going to touch him, well that is just a perk. “We good? You running away from us again?”

“No. Sorry about that.”

“It’s cool. We were worried about you, that’s all.” Farrell says. “Who was that guy anyway? He was kinda scary. An old ‘friend’ of yours?”

“My brother.” Karo says.

“Ugh. I wanted to hit him in his smug little mouth every time he misgendered you.”

“To be fair, I have transitioned since I last saw him. Mother wouldn’t believe me. She said I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I made things ‘complicated’.”

Everyone pulls a face at that and at first Karo thinks he’s done something wrong. He looks to Eu questioningly.

“We just wish they had been kinder to you. Go on. What was your job?”

Karo swallows and turns his eyes down. “We stole things. I was good at grab-and-dash. But then mother gave me another job. She- um- she had me play long games. Sometimes infiltrating factions to get information or a safe combination. A lot of seducing men, either for one night stands or however long it took to get them to let their guard down. The Duke of Shineguard took until after the proposal. And mister Kej of Klaksberger, he-” A hand grasps his forearm and he stops.

Eumont looks nauseated. “How old were you?” He whispers.

Karo sticks out his lip in concentration, mentally counting through the years. “Started before I can remember with stealing. Then as soon as I could pass as a rebellious teenager I was sent into groups.” He watches Eu shake his head and gives him a pointed look. Even he can admit that was an ameteur attempt at avoiding the question. “Fifteen. That was when I started being a temptress. Didn’t go too well the first time I tried. I freaked out in the bedroom and whipped him over the head and knocked him unconscious. I think that was the first time I lied to mother. I thought that would be the end of it. She was so proud of me though and switched me over to long games from my usual quick grab-and-dashes.”

Eumont gives his arm a tug and they both stop. Karo can tell that it is taking everything in him to not hug him. Eu looks in his eyes with a silent question and Karo nods. Eumont wraps him in an all encompassing hug. He rocks them gently even though Karo is dry eyed this time. He feels a little numb, separated by the emotions boiling deep inside him and needing processing. Instead he focuses on the feeling of being safe with his boyfriend.

“You deserve better. I’m so glad you got out.”

Karo hugs him a little tighter. “Me too.”

#writing #writeblr #original story #milo's stories #fiction #transgender #trans #transmasculine

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thetwistedclocks · 5 years

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so like,,,, couldn’t focus and did this instead

- time for a hunting trip or patrol or whatever everyone’s there and alive we got the whole gang: arthur, leon, percival, elyan, gwaine, lancelot, and merlin

-this is an au so gwen and lancelot just are together and there was no drama with arthur

- gorgeous day, kinda hot though so they decide to stop for lunch and fuel up

- le bandits sneak up on them, and attack

-everything is just like a typical fight, everybody but merlin is whirling around, doing their thing

-merlin is behind a tree, doing little stuff to make sure no one is wounded badly or killed

-our shining knights wipe everyone out, just a ton of bloody bodies scattered around the clearing except they missed one

-this little rat sneaks up behind merlin and he’s got a knife poised to kill merlin

- arthur yells desperately for merlin to move, he cannot lose him not after morgana, not after his father, no no no

- merlin whips around to defend himself, but he has no weapons, everyone else is too far away to help, and without thinking he blows the man back twenty feet, where he hits a tree and dies

- everyone is frozen in place

-merlin slowly turns around to see arthur because oh shit

- arthur says no in a strangled, desperate voice

- arthur’s face contorts and he then starts to scream: how could you, you lying bastard, i trusted you, you were my best friend

- gwaine preemptively moves towards merlin, fearing for merlins safety

- lancelot does the same

-merlin just quietly says im sorry and then whirlwinds out of there but lancelot and gwaine were close enough to get sucked in with him

-the trio lands in a forest pretty far away from camelot, and merlin just curls up into a ball

-gwaine and lancelot look at each other and merlin in shock and have a silently mouthed conversation above merlin’s head

- Gwaine: what the fuck Lancelot: shit ok did you know Gwaine: I kinda had some idea but I never dug too deep into it, did you know? lancelot: yes, he saved my life by killing the griffin with magic Gwaine: so what now Lancelot: I guess we’re fugitives with him now Gwaine: he’s not gonna move for a bit, we need to take care of him until he recovers Lancelot: agreed, lets find shelter for the night

- and they do they just build a fire and make sure merlin’s warm and has some water but he refuses food

-back with arthur the remaining knights suggest going after the trio but arthur shuts them down, hes not letting himself show any emotion

-they ride back to camelot, everyone finds out, gaius is just broken at this cause he cant see merlin or help him anymore, gwen decides to leave camelot without telling anyone to search for her best friend and love, she forgives merlin but wants an explanation, arthur turns in on himself and closes himself off, hes curt and cold, the other knights just dont talk about it though they each slowly forgive the trio over a long period of time

-after a week of no talking, merlin finally speaks to gwaine and lancelot and says: “lets go back home, I can face arthur, and you two can rejoin the knights

-they immediately refuse, saying that they trust and love merlin, and they chose to stay with him

-merlin brings up gwen in hopes to convince at least lancelot but he says its safer for her in camelot and he trusts he’ll see her again someday

-merlin just cant argue anymore, hes tired, and mourning everything he’s lost

-in the morning, they decide well we gotta live somewhere so they figure out where they are, which is western camelot on the very edge at the foot of a mountain range that marks camelot’s border

-they set up a little cabin just outside a nearby village and live their lives

-pretty soon, after occasionally being in the village for supplies, the villagers get suspicious and ask them questions

- they just so happen to catch merlin, who’s a terrible liar, and he blurts out hes a healer

-this village has 0 healers so they start to bring their sick to merlin, who heals them for free, which results in lots of gifts of food and other stuff

-gwaine and lancelot start teaching sword fighting to keep themselves sharp and help out the village

-things are chill like this for a few months

-gwen is still wandering around, learns a bit about magic, and is just traveling through western camelot, hoping to find the trio

-back in camelot, arthur is cracking down on magic

-he isn’t killing people, but anyone found guilty of magic or anything is locked away in these cells uther had made under the regular dungeon out of sorcerers’ bones that contains magic, its like a second purge, just without the executions

-gwen knows this and wants merlin to come back and stop arthur

-lancelot and gwaine slowly gets merlin’s entire story out of him, and see him as a leader now

-merlin is quieter, more reserved, and rarely uses magic at all

-one time this little girl, maybe 10, is brought to merlin wiht a weird set of symptoms

-merlin immediately knows shes developing magic, so he sends the parents away, promising he will heal her, and then he tells her

-she is scared of not being abole to control her new powers but isnt scared of having the magic itself, and tells merlin that her parents are ok with magic too

-the next day he meets with her family, and they discuss it, and eventually, they all decide that he can train her

-so like a few weeks go by of this, and then another person comes to merlin

-this time its an older woman and she wants to learn how to control her magic

-pretty soon merlin is training a lot of people and gets a reputaion

-gwaine and lancelot are worried about how little he sleeps, and how little he talks about the past, they cant help him though

-gwen hears about this village, where magic is celebrated, and finds it

-she arrives, and runs into gwaine, who takes her hand and runs shouting throught the village back to the cottage where lancelot is training

-happy reunion yay

-she and merlin talk, she gets his full story, and he is just a little happier knowing that she’s there but he also finds out about whats going on in camelot

-in camelot, all of the knights just dont talk to arthur anymore, for fear of his verbal abuse

-hes crushed that gwen is gone too, and feels that he has been abandoned

-more and more magic users flock to this village until rumors reach all the way back to camelot

-arthur orders a raid, he orders no killing

-he doesn’t lead it, but eventually, 20 knights or so attack the village

- a lot of magic users are taken, and a few people killed in fires set by the knights

-merlin feels responsible and decides that his merry band of misfits needs to be safer and a whole lot more defended

-so he and a majority of the village move into the mountains

-merlin is now the accidental leader of a rebel camp

-its called camp maxia(magic in galcian/gaelic) and its inhabitants maxians

-years go by, as the camp grows with refugee families and those from villages attacked by bandits because the knights are all out looking for magic users and not protecting anybody

-merlin, with his right hands gwaine, lancelot, and gwen run maxia as a safe place for everyone, and he creates a name for himself as lord maxia to protect his real identity

-arthur knows about maxia, obviously, but doesn’t have the forces to take it down

- during this time gwen and lancelot have this huge wedding, very magical, and very nature themed

- so arthur has most knights out around camelot, and morgana knows this, she joins forces with cenred and takes camelot with ease

-arthur, leon, percival, and elyan get out together

-percival suggests going to lord maxia for help, as he’s got quite a sizable force and has been kind to camelot in not attacking them

-arthur immedietly shuts him down

-they camp outside of the city for about a week, a couple civilians find them and tell arthur whats happening in camelot

-morgana is starving the people and killing those who act up

-arthur still loves his people, more than he hates magic

-so he agrees to go to lord maxia

-arthur, leon, percival, and elyan set out with the few civilians; the knights are each secretly hoping to see merlin at camp maxia, arthur is secretly terrified of that happening

-they’re picked up by a maxia patrol and held in a makeshift cell until lord maxia accepts them into the camp, cause they’re wearing camelot stuff

-merlin is told of a group from camelot in the cells and knowing of camelot’s state immedietly send gwen and lancelot to meet them

- they expect a few knights and prepare to ask how they can help take back camelot

-when they see its elyan, arthur, leon, and percival they have the civilians released and cared for and sit down to talk to them

-arthur wont look at them, so leon speaks, and talks about whats been happening

-gwen offers maxia’s help, and lancelot says that planning would be a lot easier if they weren’t in a cell, and asks if they want to be processed into camp maxia

-the processing entails a quick truth potion along the lines of veritiserum

-leon says he couldnt speak for the whole group, so lancelot says its a personal choice

-percival volunteers first, and then the other knights agree to it as well

-arthur is silent, but livid

-the knights are processed, and meet merlin, and for a night they all have a meal together and its almost normal

-in the morning, merlin goes to see arthur, except he conceals his identity

-they talk, arthur is bitter, merlin is cryptic

-after a few days arthur realizes that in order to help his people he needs to set his anger aside and is processed

-merlin, identity still hidden, administers the test

-under this truth potion, arthur is honest about his views on magic in ways he didnt even realise

-merlin keeps his identity hidden for the planning, much to everyone’s dismay, but they respect his decision

-an attack on camelot is planned

-arthur at this point is slowly trusting knights again, and gwaine, lancelot, and gwen

-they ride for camelot, with camp maxia’s army

-the knights, including lancelot and gwaine, are with arthur and merlin, who’s identity is still hidden

-gwen leads the medical group behind them

-the battle begins, fought by merlin’s men against cenred’s army

-morgana threatens to kill the imprisoned sorcerers

-arthur and merlin, still hidden, fight their way to the throne room

-its just them and morgana and the sorcerers

-arthur is thrown by morgana into the sorcerers

-then its down to merlin to stop her

-so they fight, a big badass magical fight scene

-merlins cover is blown, hes hurt, looks like hes losing

-arthur is flipping out because its merlin and he forgot how much he missed him

-merlin is about to be stabbed by a magical bolt from morgana and arthur just screams merlin’s name

-merlin hears this and needs to live so he can talk to arthur so he defeats morgana

-battles over, people are freed

-merlin is chilling on top of the castle when arthur comes up

-they talk, for a long long time

-when they come down, merlin is forgiven, but not trusted, and magic is now not illegal

-merlin is made the court sorcerer, lancelot and gwaine knights, and gwen is a lady too cause she’s married to lancelot

-the foursome is now part of the round table and camp maxia is disbanded, no longer needed, and becomes a city at the foot of the mountains

-the knights can protect villages now

-all is right, except merlin and arthur still have this great distance

-gaius retires and just chills in merlins tower

-one time he’s out doing something important and arthur breaks his leg in training

-hes brought to merlin, who very very quietly asks if he can heal arthur using magic

-arthur agrees, and he sees merlin use good magic for the first time ever

-this breaks down a barrier

-arthur visits merlin and talks about matters of state

-eventually just his day

-and then he trusts merlin again

-they become best friends once more

-then one night at a ball, merlin is being flirted with by a very attractive knight

-arthur gets really possesive and jealus

-he grabs merlin’s arm and tugs him away, saying something about court matters

-he dragsmerlin back to his room, huffy and angry, not letting go of his arm

-merlin asks what they need to talk about, and he doesn’t get an answer

-next he asks gently whats wrong

-at this point they’re at arthur’s chambers

-there’s no gaurds, they’re at the ball

-he tugs merlin into his room and just glares at him

-merlin is confused and asked what he did wrong, scared to lose arthur again

-arthur just groans and looks away and mumbles something about nothing

-merlin walks over, puts his hand on arthurs back, and says: “well its clearly not, tell me whats going on.”

-arthur just stays quiet

-merlin persists: “arthur please dont shut me out like this”

-arthur suddenly pins merlin to the door

-he just growls, “dont flirt with him”

-merlin is very confused and kinda scared because hes always loved arthur but arthur definitely doesn’t never ever in a million years feel the same way

-he quietly says why not

-arthur just. stares at him. “are you serious?”

-”yes?”

-and arthur just does the whole possesive door kiss thing

-merlin got a light bulb

-a few months later they’re married

-merlin is crowned king

-the end

just, random idea thats been bouncing around. should it be a fic?

#merlin fic #merthur #writing #arthur #merlin #gwen #gwaine #lancelot #gwen x lancelot #idk that ship name

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thingspersephonetracks · 5 years

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Arbiter’s Report on the 1061 on Sol-3

Target Name: Ea

Known names and titles:

Adam Adam Malkovich Alan Krumweide Apollo Asriel Dreemurr (Serial Murderer) Bob Daly Ea-Nasir Ego Elon Enki Equality 7-2521 Flowey Freder Fredersen Harry Mason Ieshua/Joshua Jace Jared Shapiro Jesus Joker Kylo Ren Loki Lucifer Melek Taus, the Peacock God Neo Phaethon (see also Phaeton, destroyed planet) Prometheus Secret Original Serge Simon Shinji V Will

Anthem, page 102-105

"what is their number, for his is the right of man, and there is no right on earth above this right. And he stood on the threshold of the freedom for which the blood of the centuries behind him had been spilled.

But then he gave up all he had won, and fell lower than his savage beginning.

What brought it to pass? What disaster took their reason away from men? What whip lashed them to their knees in shame and submission? The worship of the word "We."

When men accepted that worship, the structure of centuries collapsed about them, the structure whose every beam had come from the thought of some one man, each in his day down the ages, from the depth of some one spirit, such spirit as existed but for its own sake. Those men who survived- those eager to obey, eager to live for one another, since they had nothing else to vindicate them- those men could neither carry on, nor preserve all they had received. Thus did all thought, all science, all wisdom perish on earth. Thus did men- men with nothing to offer save their great number- lose the steel towers, the flying ships, the power wires, all te things they had created and could never keep. Perhaps, later, some men had been born with the mind and the courage to recover these things which were lost; perhaps these men came before the Councils of Scholars. They were answered as I have been answered- and for the same reasons.

But I still wonder how it was possible, in those graceless years of transition, long ago, that men did not see whither they were going, and went on, in blindness and cowardice, to their fate. I wonder, for it is hard for me to conceive how men who knew the word "I," could give it up and not know what they lost. But such has been the story, for I have lived in the City of the damned, and I know what horror men permitted to be brought upon them.

Perhaps, in those days, there were a few among men, a few of clear sight and clean soul, who refused to surrender that word. What agony must have been theirs before that which they saw coming and could not stop! Perhaps they cried out in protest and in warning. But men paid no heed to their warning. And they, these few, fought a hopeless battle, and they perished with their banners smeared by their own blood. And they chose to perish, for they knew. To them, I send my salute across the centuries, and my pity.

Theirs is the banner in my hand. And I wish I had the power to tell them that the despair of their hearts was not to be final, and their night was no without hope. For the battle they lost can never be lost. For that which they died to save can never perish. Through all the darkness, through all the shame of which men are capable, the spirit of man will remain alive on this earth. It may sleep, but it will awaken. It may wear chains, but it will not break through. And man will go on. Man, not men.

Here, on this mountain, I and my sons and my chosen friends shall build our new land and our fort. And it will become as the heart of the earth, lost and hidden at first, but beating, beating louder each day. And word of it will reach every corner of the earth. And the roads of the world will become as veins which will carry the best of the world's blood to my threshold. And all my brothers, and the Councils of my brothers, will hear of it, but they will be impotent against me. And the day will come when I shall break all the chains of the earth, and raze the cities of the enslaved, and my home will become the capital of the world where each man will be free to exist for his own sake.

For the coming of that day shall I fight, I and my sons and my chosen friends. For the freedom of Man. For his rights. For his life. For his honor.

And here, over the portals of my fort, I shall cut in stone the word which is to be my beacon and my banner. The word which will not die, should we all perish in battle. The word which can never die on this earth, for it is the heart of it and the meaning and the glory.

The sacred word:

EGO"

Likely originates from the star system Vega; is either responsible for or intrinsic to militant vegans as a cover; Vega was the first star sequenced in detail during earth's exploration in the second millennium BCE, particularly by his father Gendo

Sees hostiles as monsters; e.g. Silent Hill, Dead Space; such depersonalization probably makes it easier to cause harm; Ea has shown sensitive sides on a number of occasions and likely needs such emotional distance in order to perform the extreme feats of routine violence it frequently does

Constantly seeks out romantic and/or domestic partners; has been observed to partake in sexual acts when required, but has demonstrated notable discomfort in doing so;

Obsessed with mother archetypes; the archetype they seem strongest bound to is that of Liberty; parasitically latches onto caregivers;

Emotional masochism creates a desire to be verbally and/or emotionally abused; attempts at such psychological manipulation should be avoided in lieu of causing actual physical or economic harm;

While its first mode is that of possession, if it finds itself incapable of possessing an object of its obsession, it immediately begins attempting to destroy it; denying it obsession objects may turn out to be a means of identification, based on its reaction;

Routinely emulates both sides of conflicts in order to give the illusion of diversity; known by the moniker "Free Will" it attempts to give the illusion of personal volition when convincing others to perform tasks that meet its own ends;

Has technologies capable of reorganizing search results and social media timelines, and uses them to isolate its enemies; has technologies capable of manipulating thoughts and actions of individuals; has technologies capable of seeing forward and back through time, and capable of altering the course of history; these are mundane actions to it and must be treated as mundane occurrences by any person dealing with it;

Frequently expresses savior complex; seems to particularly enjoy convincing others he is their savior while simultaneously harming them;

Sadistic and hostile in the extreme; seems to feed off of emotional energy, particularly fear and terror; frequently manipulates enemies in order to cause fear;

Younger incarnations vulnerable to cold; becomes Ice King further in the timeline;

When presented with deleterious information or acts, expresses gratitude to the person harming it, probably as a confusion defense mechanism;

Characterized by the epithet "Twelve Million Unique Visitors", expresses a high demand for recognition of individuality and uniqueness; likely vulnerable to conformity and uniformity; in the novel Anthem by Ayn Rand, Equality 7-2521 forcibly flees from the society he feels restricts him;

In Magic: the Gathering, the character Jace is described by the literature as a “fail-safe”; in the game Until Dawn, while under lockdown one of the characters freaks out, suggesting evidence of emotional instability under pressure;

Games made by Ea frequently feature large amounts of technology and/or weaponry, and plentiful ammunition and supplies; protagonists in such games generally move quickly and have high degrees of freedom of movement;

Is obsessed with control despite a complete inability to control itself;

When provoked, it first attempts to control the behavior of others; when it is incapable of controlling others' behavior, it resorts to controlling onlookers' opinions about others; when it is incapable of doing that, it tends to assimilate whatever traits of a target it can, presenting itself as the target and attempting to convince them of oneness while systematically destroying them;

Denying it agency is the most likely way to break it;

Tesla and LA Galaxy, their subsidiaries, and companies that provide them with materials and supplies should be the primary targets for economic sanctions;

Seems to constantly express a sense of lacking and wanting; such may be its greatest weakness; constantly seeking daughter/wife/etc; despite constantly seeking companionship, has demonstrated itself to be terrified of attachment;

Can be characterized by the concept of Envy, and its behavior has conformed to patterns of want>take; all attempts to reason with it have led to disregard and betrayal; it should be assumed that Enki is not capable of being reasoned with; it should be noted that when a group of deities plotted to betray humanity and wipe them out with a flood, he even betrayed his compatriot betrayers, having informed Utnapishtim of the circumstances;

It can be extrapolated with a reasonably high degree of certainty that Enki is Shinji Ikari, the NERV agent that was tasked with assaulting this arbiter.

There are a very large number of people who are utterly sick of his shit.

Anyway, here’s wonderwall.

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ink-splotch · 7 years

Note

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

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