#I will never recover but also I have gone through enlightenment and I am a changed person

[heir-of-the-chair]

You know, you didn’t have to do this, AJR. You didn’t have to do this.

[waynewifey]

Fading away. —

Pairing: Jason Grace x Roman!DaughterofPluto!Reader

Sumary: after moths of over working, a colapse makes you get into a coma and reflect on your feelings.

Warnings: coma, angst, Pluto as a caring dad, fluff at the end.

Words: +-3k.

A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson Franchise fanfiction, so take it easy on me. This is also my biggest and favourite one. I hope you like this! My requests are always open.

(Y/N) (L/N) had a good reason to hate Jason Grace. How could she not? Jason was so annoying, self centred, selfish, stubborn and worse of all? He dated Piper McLean. Piper was great, (Y/N) knew that and they seemed happy together. But, still, he chose Piper, not (Y/N), his girlfriend back at Camp Jupiter, who he totally forgot about. How come Percy remembered Annabeth but Jason wouldn't remember (Y/N)? And when he recovered his memory, he chose Piper. But she also loved him still, and seeing him hurt like a bullet going straight through her heart. She decided to spend a year at Half-Blood Camp to stay with her half-brother Nico Di Angelo when Gaea were defeated. She thought she could manage to see him almost every day, but she couldn't. So she started doing anything to get her mind occupied. Going on meaningless quests, travelling to New York randomly, volunteering for literally any service in the camp and barely sleeping — because sleeping meant dreams.

"It doesn't have to be like that, (Y/N)." Her brother gave her another shot of Nectar. The sunlight that entered Hades' cabin was leaving slowly as they talked, (Y/N) leaned on her bed watching her fingertips become solid again.

"I'll learn how to do it right and I promise I won't push myself too much, but I can't stop practicing." She avoided eye contact with Nico, feeling ashamed of herself. After all, she was supposed to be the one taking care of him, since she was older. She came back from a "quest" for her father, that was staying a weekend on the Underworld. She started using Shadow Travel to get there. The problem? She had no idea how hard it was, and she almost died every time. He sighted.

"I'm not talking about Shadow Travel. You should talk to Jason and sort this out. You're almost killing yourself everyday doing the craziest stuff just to keep your mind off him. He already broke up with Piper, what's stopping you now? I'm your brother and it pains me to see you suffering, I won't just sit and watch while you literally desapear." He got up and walked to the door. The (h/c) girl forced a smile so he believed she was fine. Nico left the cabin.

After hours reflecting and thinking, she heard the trumpets that announced the convocation to a game of Capture the Flag. Since she was feeling better, she changed her clothes and walked outside. The teams were: cabins 1, 4, 5, 9, 12, 14, 18, 21, 23, 27, 28, 29 vs. cabins 2, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 20, 24, 25, 26. They started the game. (Y/N) had to protect the boundary with a kid from Hipnos' cabin while a group attacked the opponent's flag and another protected their territory and their flag. Everything was going as planned, she hadn't seen anyone yet. Out of the sudden, she saw a blond guy running in their direction with a sword. Oh hell no, Jason Grace wouldn't attack her like that. But he did.

"What the hell?!" She screamed, reacting to the blade flying in her direction. Her teammate was asleep. She defended herself with her own sword and counterattacked. He invested against her leg, trying to make her fall. Her instincts took place, she jumped, attacked again and they started a meaningless battle. Jason looked the same as always. He was almost the same Jason that used to take her on cute dates in New Rome. But he fought like a greek. And that was when it hit her, he changed. The mixture of love and hate made her loose her senses for a bit, giving Jason the lead. He focused on her leg but hesitated to hit it, giving her time to get back on the fight. She knocked him to the floor, her foot on his chest and her blade on his neck, when she heard footsteps approaching quickly. Of course. It was a trap. She turned around and saw a son of Hebe holding her team's flag running, followed by two daughters of Hephaestus. She grabbed a knife from her belt and threw it to his leg, hitting exactly where she wanted. She then grabbed Jason's blade and Shadow Travelled. For a moment everything was fine, while she drowned into darkness, but then she couldn't get out. She saw her father's face mixed in the dark. He raised his hand and touched her face, than she was back at the forest. Realising not even a second had gone through, she attacked the — injured — boy and the two gigantic girls at the same time. She wasn't really expecting to defeat them, just trying to win some time so, hopefully, someone would come help her. The boy dropped the flag and got a small sword. The two girls had hammers... oh. The three of them attacked at the same time and she protected herself with Jason's sword, which flew away. She was out of hopes when a figure appeared beside her and started fighting them.

"What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to help me, we're enemies, remember?" She said, fighting Hebe's son.

"I guess you're welcome then." Jason replied smiling, fighting the hammers-girls. (Y/N) sighted in annoyance. Seconds later, her teammates came running from the enemies' territory with a flag and the three-people group surrendered. Everyone started screaming and celebrating. (Y/N)'s head hurt with the noise and she looked to her brother, feeling numb.

"Hey, can we talk?" Jason said, getting in front of her with a big smile. He was proud of himself for helping her? Of course he was. He was going to take all the credit for her team's win. The anger rose inside of her burning everything. She furrowed her eyebrows and with the last energy that remained in her body, she tried to Shadow Travel for the perhaps hundredth time that day.

She fell into the darkness while feeling her body desapear quickly. Her heart was very accelerated but then it stopped. She saw herself at the barks of Lete's river. I'm dead., she thought. The desperation started taking over. She remembered the face of all her friends. Her siblings, Hazel and Nico. Her mother. Her best friend Reyna. Camp Jupiter. New Rome. The Lar Vitellius. Lares? Lares! Maybe she could go back as a ghost! She would at least see her friends again.

"Didn't expect to see you this soon." A voice said with humor. She turned around, as always enlighten by her father's presence. But his face was sad. Not the everyday-sad-Pluto, but the my-daughter-just-died-sad-Pluto.

"Am I d-... dead?" The anxiety forbid her from crying in front of her father. The one she never knew and once she did, she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Yes and no. You see, my darling, there are things more powerful then death. Right now, your physical being is exhausted from travelling through darkness and light — which I told you not to, but we'll talk about this later, you have a decision to make. You're body is surrendering to Death out of hopelessness. But your soul, on the other hand, still fights for the heart beating in your chest. And your conscious, the controller of both body and soul, has to decide which one of them you'll support right now. As Lord of the Death that's all I can say to you. But as your father, I would like to say that we have a room for you in the castle, if you'd like that. And also, I feel obligated to show you what is happening on Earth." When he finished his words, an image formed in the air, sort of an Iris message, but no one saw them. (Y/N) saw herself laying on the grass, surrounded by some campers, Nico and Jason.

She was watching them from above. Jason put two fingers on her neck, trying to feel her pulse. She — the one in the Underworld — gasped as the blond boy whispered 'nothing'. She glanced at her father, who had a pained expression as he stared at Nico freaking out. Her brother had his hands on her chest and was murmuring something in greek. Then, he opened his eyes, filled with tears of desperation, and glanced at Jason, who didn't look any better. She wanted to scream and go back to up there, but her voice wouldn't come out of her throat.

"Half of her is already gone." Nico struggled to say. Everyone around gasped. "I can't Shadow Travel with her, it- it would k-kill the other half..."

"Let's take her to the Infirmary. Everything's gonna be fine. She'll be okay." Will Solace had appeared in the crowd and kneed down to take (Y/N) in the arms, being helped by the other two. As they walked, (Y/N) held herself in her arms, sobbing. She didn't want to die, not like that. The image faded away and Pluto hugged her. He never did that before. She left out all her emotions through the cry. Her father caressed her back and gently kissed the top of her head.

"Now you see, my child, what those on Earth are going through. You have a family up there. And if you'd ask me, Jason Grace is a good person, even being a son of my brother. You have a choice, so make it wisely." Pluto said, not backing away from the hug. She nodded and he immediately knew what her choice was. "You know I'd love to have you here with me, but I'd love even more to see you happy. Don't be reckless. And listen to your brother. You don't have to worry to come see me, I'll make sure to visit you during your recovery." As he said that, a white door appeared out of nowhere. "Here's your carpool." The girl started to walk to the door, when she heard Pluto say: "(Y/N) I lo-... Good luck." She smiled to him and went through into the door. It felt like eons in the nothingness. She felt so much pain all over her body. Then she gained conscience. She didn't knew how long it had passed. She also couldn't open her eyes or say anything, but she knew she was laying down something comfortable, a bed, perhaps. But she could hear perfectly well.

"... and I'm so sorry you had to die for me to gain the courage to say this. Please come back to us... Come back to me. Nico barely leaves this room and nor do I, Will had to force him to go eat. It's not the same without you, (Y/N/N), it really isn't." Jason's words gave her the urge to cry, but she couldn't. It was like her body had shutdown completely. She felt his warm hands on her cold ones and after that, a door was opened. Footsteps. Only one person. Jason didn't move. Someone sat down next to them.

"Dad- I mean, Hades said she will be okay." It was Nico's voice. He sounded extremely tired.

"Didn't he say that last month?" Grace was annoyed, but he didn't stop holding her hand.

"I know, I wish I could do more... I'm... I'm sorry Jason." The blond sighted.

"I should be the one to be saying that. I know there's nothing else to do. I'm sorry for putting the blame on you. It's just- if we've talked before, nothing of this would have happened. If only I was brave enough..." (Y/N) felt weak and her consciousness was back at nothing again. When she heard something again, it looked like a lot of time had passed by, but she wasn't sure at all. Jason's voice was happy as he told her his plans to the future.

"I realised you would like to work with me training the legion. You're obviously skilled and the payment is quite good. And I've heard they are planning to build a village here as well, but I don't know if you-..." Every time she tried to stay conscious, she felt weaker. 'Rest', her father's voice said inside of her head, so she let herself.

Some time...? A long time...? She didn't knew. But the next time she heard, she was way stronger. She waited until then, so she could stay longer and try to understand her emotions. She heard almost an entire day. Her friends entered and left cabin 13 — she found out that she was there. Some of them talked "to" her, some just sat there in silence. When alone, Nico talked a lot about Will Solace. (Y/N) smiled mentally. Then Jason entered. She could already recognise the sound he made walking. He sat beside her bed and held her hand, as usual.

"Hello, princess. You look better." She reunited all the strength she had storage and sent it all to her right hand. She softly squeezed Jason's hand, for a small portion of second, trying to say 'hi'. She felt exhausted. He gasped.

"She just squeezed my hand!" He screamed, laughing. Nico jumped out of his bed, laughing as well. They both stared at her, waiting for more. "You're there, right? I knew you were! It's been long months, but you're getting better. Don't work too hard. We'll see each other soon, don't worry." He kissed her forehead. After that, it was easy for her to let go and dive into her sleep again.

She was slowly getting better. She noticed her comas were smaller now, and she got stronger every time. She started communicating by squeezing people's hand. One time for 'yes' and two times for 'no'. But it still was exhausting. She met with her father a couple times through dreams, but it never lasted long. She was sick of it. She wanted to jump out of the bed and run through all the camp. She was alone with Jason, as he talked about the last time he went to Camp Jupiter, telling every change. She slowly forced herself to open her eyes. It wasn't for too long, just enough for her to see the big smile he had while talking, her favourite blond hair and how he gesticulated while speaking. By that time, her feelings were completely lined. She declined her childishness and stubbornness to accept the fact that she obviously loved him. Her lips were able to form a small smile. He hadn't noticed her yet. I can do this, she thought.

"J." She whispered for the first time in five months. Her eyes were already closed again. He gasped.

"Did you just say J? That's me! I'm here, i'm right here, love. Can you hear me?" She squeezed his hand one time. Yes. He chortled. "You're so strong. I miss you so much." He started softly crying. She squeezed his hand two times. No. Don't cry, she wanted to say. "Alright, 's fine, 's fine. Gods, you're coming back. I bet Aphrodite is watching us closely." He chuckled but suddenly stopped. "I forgot we haven't talked about that yet, i'm sorry. I don't wanna be intrusive, you know. It's just, by what Nico has told me, well, you still liked me." She squeezed two times. "That's... that's great, love. But don't worry about that just yet. You should take some rest now, my love."

Five days. She had woken up every single one of them, but only listening. No squeezes, no talking, no looking. Just storing strength. She knew she was close to fully waking up. She was already able to keep track of the days. It was a Sunday, the day she received the most visits. It should be morning, because she only heard Nico's snorting. She slowly opened her eyes. The same place. Different clothes. She wondered who had changed them. Perhaps Will did. She systematically moved her arms, pushing herself to sit. Her back was laying at wall. She took a deep breath. It was going fine. She wanted to wake Nico up, but she decided to wait to see if she would be able to actually stay awake. About an hour later, Nico woke up by himself. He yawned and turned to her bed. She looked at him with a big smile. He jumped out of bed.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)! You're up! How- Wait! I need to- Wait! Don't fall asleep, I'll be right back!" She blinked slowly to sign 'ok'. He was back moments running later with a bunch of teenagers in pyjamas. They all froze at the door, staring at her. Hazel, Frank, Annabeth, Percy, Jason and even Piper. Hazel was the first one to wake up from the trance. She ran to her sister and hugged (Y/N).

"Ouch." She managed to say, reacting to the tight hug that made her head hurt.

"Right, sorry! I forgot. Wait, you speak!" Hazel answered and laughed. All of the others joined in, amazed by her friend, and started talking, telling everything she had missed. (Y/N) couldn't speed properly, only a few words like 'hi', 'ow', 'miss' and 'food'. Later that day, Will came to check on her. He said everything looked just fine, but that she should rest.

"Hey." Zeus' son said, once they were alone.

"Hi."

"Gods, it's so good to finally hear you again. I've talked to myself for a long time." They giggled softly. (Y/N) wasn't showing any signs of it, but that day had been extremely tiring. Her entire body hurt but she couldn't give up just yet.

"I... heard." She whispered. "A bit." Her eyes tried to close but she opened them wide, fighting her own nature. Jason noticed that.

"Hey, no need to over do it.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"Sleep... here." She begged, placing her hand beside her. He froze for a moment, embarrassed. And then, with a rubor across his face, he sat on the bed beside her. She laid her head on his chest and quickly fell asleep.

“Go to sleep, love. We have all the time in the world.”

[re-diesirae]

Chapter 5

5. Leon

Leon walked in the darkness; his gun ready to shoot anything that could be a threat as he tried to find his way out of the tunnel. He had woken up a couple of hours ago and found himself trapped inside a tiny cell guarded by two men that, he guessed, were part of the terrorist group that had tried to kidnap Claire. The first thing he did after waking up was to look around the place, but to his dismay, there were no signs of the red-headed.

"Where did those bastards take her to?" he mumbled with irritation.

He was thinking of a way to break free when he caught the two men talking in whispers.

"What are we supposed to do with the guy?"

"That's what we are waiting to hear. The high-ups only ordered us to bring the Redfield chick. This guy just tagged along uninvited, but I bet they will find some use for him."

"Another lab rat," one of the men scoffed. "I pity him."

"He got it by himself. He shouldn't have interfered."

Leon heard the men laugh, but their laughter was interrupted by a soft slashing sound and a thud. After some seconds, the agent listened to the cell doors screech open, and a bright light pointed to his face. Leon raised his hand to block the blinding light and frowned at the familiar person standing in front of him.

"Ada?"

"So we meet again, Leon," the Asian spy said. Her lips curled into a playful smile, "here, from all places."

"What are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't I be asking the same? From how I see it, I've got more reasons to be here than you do."

"I doubt it," Leon said, walking out from the cell and facing the woman, "These bastards took my friend."

"Ah, yes. The Redfield girl. I had heard that you were close."

"Do you know where they hold Claire?"

"No, why would I care about her? She isn't my mission."

Leon raised his eyebrow, and Ada smirked.

"I think she found her way out. She's probably running somewhere. If she's alive, of course," she added, "but from what I've heard, I wouldn't bet against her chances."

No, it would be a stupid idea to bet against Claire. She was a skilled woman that knew how to handle herself in a crisis. Leon frowned. He never knew what to expect from Ada, but somehow he could not bring himself to distrust her.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here, Ada?"

"Work," she answered, "nothing you should know about, pretty boy. I was about to leave when I heard that you'd gotten yourself caught. It's been a while, so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Here..."

Ada threw him some things, and Leon caught them in the air. His handguns and holsters, and also his phone.

"I believe you will need those."

Leon put his things back into place and looked at the spy.

"Thanks. Care to enlighten me of where we are?"

"Sorry, handsome, but I can tell you how to get out, though," Ada said, "if you follow this tunnel, you should reach outside. Don't worry about the guards. There aren't many."

"Took care of them for me?"

"No, guards are useless in this place," Ada smirked, "until next time, Leon."

Before Leon could say anything, the Asian woman was already gone. He would never understand her, but the time and place were not the right ones to ponder about the subject. He had to find Claire, make sure she was safe, and figure out where they were and how to get out.

Just like Ada had said, he did not meet any other guards on the way outside. However, once he was out of the tunnel, things became less friendly. Leon crossed paths with a bunch of people infected with Plagas, or at least, that's what the man thought. They lurked in the darkness of the forest, waiting for any unguarded passerby to jump over him, but luckily, he had managed to kill them without problems.

After a few minutes of trying, he managed to contact Hunnigan. The signal was not clear, but hopefully, it was enough for her to locate his position and send help. In the meantime, his primary objective was finding the youngest Redfield.

Tracking down Claire would not be easy. She could be anywhere, but if he knew her well enough, the first thing the woman would do would be arming herself. The best place to do that would be a place where people lived, so finding a settlement would help him find her.

Leon searched for a town or anything similar as he navigated the forest, but so far, he had not found anything. Then suddenly, he heard a loud bang, and he saw the flames of an explosion raise from a short distance from his position.

Smirking to himself, he could only guess if that was Claire, but he did not lose anything by checking it out, and so he had found himself walking in that direction.

For what he could see, it was indeed a town, or at least what remained of it. The fire was starting to spread, and the whole place was like a giant torch. Suddenly a soft crack of leaves made his senses snap. He turned around quickly, raising his gun only to find a rifle pointing directly at his face.

"Leon?" a familiar voice whispered.

The blonde could not say how relieved he was to hear that voice again. He lowered his gun and watched Claire do the same with her rifle. Thanks to the light coming from the burning town, he was able to see the woman. Besides looking exhausted and quite beaten up with her thorn clothes and scratches, she looked alright.

"Claire, thank god. I found you," he said, relieved.

"Likewise," she answered.

Claire let out a relieved sigh, and he saw her lose her balance and stumble down. Leon made a quick spin and caught her before the woman could hit the ground.

"Hey, easy. What's wrong?"Leon asked with worry.

"Sorry about that," she replied, "I think I might have a mild concussion. I already had one when I woke up, but I think the explosion just made it worse. I'll be fine. We need to take cover, Leon. There were some nasty monsters back there, and honestly, I don't know if I blew them up, but I don't want to be around to find out."

Leon nodded. He trusted Claire's judgment, and if she thought the monsters were no good news, he believed her. Claire was in no condition for a fight, so the wisest decision was to avoid conflict for the time being. They needed a place to hide and rest a little.

"Can you walk?"

"I can manage, I think," she replied.

Claire pushed herself up with Leon's help, but her legs gave up almost immediately. The adrenaline rush she'd used earlier was fading away, and the rebound effect in combination with the concussion was hitting her hard. Leon was surprised that the woman was still awake.

"You don't look like you can..."

"Jelly legs had never been an issue before."

Leon sighed. He put his gun back in his holster and knelt in front of her, offering her his back.

"Hop on," Leon said.

"What?"

"You can't walk, and it will be much faster this way."

Claire wanted to argue, but despite her broken pride, she knew Leon was right. She could barely stand, and that would only be a nuisance in battle. Without complaints, the woman climbed on Leon's back.

Leon immediately noted how light she was. Was she even eating at all?

"You can take my gun, and you're in charge of hostile control. How's your aim?"

"As good as it can be, I suppose."

"You'll be in charge of snipping then."

"I can do that."

Claire let out a weak chuckle. He was glad that the woman was still good enough to have some sense of humor.

Finding refuge was going to be a challenging task, especially when they didn't know the area, but Leon was not going to give so easily. Claire needed a safe place to recover, and nothing would stop him from finding one. It took him several minutes and some perfectly executed headshots from Claire to find a small abandoned cottage that was barely visible amidst the vegetation. It wasn't the most luxurious refuge; in fact, it was pretty wretched, but it would serve its purpose as a suitable hiding spot.

He made sure it was clear of unfriendly visitors before letting Claire down. The woman thanked him and settled in a corner with her back against the wall and rubbing her temper.

"Let me look at that," he said, approaching her.

Leon wasn't a medic, and his knowledge of wounds and injuries didn't reach beyond the standard first-aid procedures, but he could at least try.

"Be my guest," she replied, letting the blonde look at her.

She had a large lump on the back of her head, and there were traces of dried blood behind her ears and neck. He didn't see any open wounds, but that only made him worry that damage had been more internal. Concussions could be tricky.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Honest answer? Like shit," Claire snorted weakly, making Leon smirk. It'd been long since he had dealt with Claire's singular sense of humor.

"I am serious," he insisted. "You had a severe blow on your head, and I want to be sure there is no internal damage."

"That's going to be tough without a tomography unless you have some fancy instrument in your pockets, Mr. Super agent."

Leon snorted.

"I assume it isn't too bad if you can still talk like that."

"I am fine," Claire sighed. "I am a little dizzy, my vision is blurry, and I feel like I might throw up at any time. I also feel drained, and I can assure you that a hot bath would be nice, but you know, I'm not complaining. I am still alive.

"Well, I suppose you sound ok; I'll check again later, though."

"Be my guest, Leon," she sighed, "I am a little confused right now. Would you mind telling me what happened? How's that you ended up here, too?"

"Well, I was supposed to rescue you," he snorted, "but things didn't go quite as planned. Chris is probably pissed at me now."

"Don't mind about Chris. He's pissed most of the time for no reason. He will live through it as long as we make it out alive."

"Yeah. Something is jamming my signal. I can't contact Hunnigan or any of the other services, so I have no idea where we are."

"Germany. Bavaria, most likely."

"Huh?" Leon asked, surprised, "How do you know that?"

Claire dug inside her pocket and pulled out a piece of cloth. She unfolded it to show him its contents, and Leon saw a small branch.

"Sorbus pseudothuringiaca," she said. "It's endemic to Bavaria. I found a lot of it in the forest while I was looking for the town."

Claire always found ways to impress him.

"I didn't know you had a nag for botany."

"It isn't my forte," Claire said, folding the cloth again and putting it away, "but I am still a biologist."

"So we are in Germany," Leon sighed, "shit. That was a long trip."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, "now we are trapped in a forest infested by murderous monsters. How fun, huh?"

"Don't worry. I am sure we can handle that."

"You don't say," Claire nodded, massaging her neck, "I probably hold the record for waking up in the worst possible places."

Leon did not reply. He had heard of Claire's misadventures with B.O.W.s, mostly from reports. They rarely touched the subject in their occasional calls. He knew the woman had gotten involved in a couple of cases lately, one in a soviet island and another one on an island in South America. The reports on both were vague, but he remembered reading Claire's name among the survivors.

"You're still as tough as you've always been, huh?"

"I don't know," Claire sighed, "Maybe I'm getting old for this."

"Hey, if you're getting old, what about Chris and me?" he chuckled.

"Ah, right. I didn't mean it like that, sorry. My concussion is making me say nonsense."

"Don't worry about it. You need to rest. Maybe you should sleep a little. I can stand guard."

"Yeah..." Claire agreed, closing her eyes. "Sleeping sounds nice. Wake me up for a switch."

Leon watched Claire drift into sleep after some brief seconds. Her head tilted aside, and he caught her before she slid to the ground. The man placed her head on his lap carefully and watched her. She had to be exhausted, and he could not blame her. He didn't know how long she'd been running around, fighting hostiles, and escaping while dealing with the side effects of a concussion. She was admirable, and she deserved the rest.

He watched Claire's sleeping face, and he suddenly remembered their time in Racoon City. Eighteen years had passed since the incident; back then, both had been rookies in zombie fighting, and now they were among the veterans. Leon had become one of the DSO best agents, and Claire had not only survived multiple altercations with crazy scientists, but she had become the leader of a movement working to counter terrorist advances.

Leon smiled to himself. Claire had changed since the last time they met. She was no longer the girl he met in Raccoon. She was more mature and serene now. Then again, she wasn't the only one who had changed. All of them had, and all of them had chosen their way to fight against bioterrorism. Claire, however, had chosen a path that was very different from the one Chris and himself had taken. She was a fighter, but from another kind.

"What the hell does Neo-Umbrella want with you, Claire?" he sighed, brushing a hair strand away from her face.

NOTE: if you guys want to come and chat about the fic, or just about CLEON in general. Feel free to drop by the discord and say hi! http://discord.gg/wr48UmENbx

[handonshipper]

If I Knew Then What I Know Now: Chapter Four

After a while, Landon's eyes slowly opened, and he sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was on a bed. An  actual  clean, larger bed. He hadn't been in one of those for... a while. He felt drained of energy and a bit nauseous. Landon forced down the nausea and focused on everything. His backpack was leaning up against the nightstand on the ground near the bed. He clenched the sheets and looked down at his shirt. He had a different shirt on than before, one that wasn't bloody and torn.

"You're awake" A familiar voice spoke out from near the doorway. He didn't need to turn his head to know who was standing there, watching him.

"Hope" he greeted. "Yeah, I am. How long have I been out?"

"A little less than a day" Hope walked over and took a seat on the bed with Landon. "I shouldn't be here long. It's not safe for you to be around me, but I wanted to see you again. Before..." she fell quiet.  She cleared her throat. "You have a bit of a fever that spiked. Here. It's an herbal mixture. It should help finish up cooling you down more than what I've already done"  She offered him a small glass of a yellowish liquid.

Landon took the glass and drank the liquid inside. "Thank you" he said.

"You're welcome" the tribrid took the glass back from him. She tucked her hair behind her ear and focused on him. "Now what did you mean when you said 'not you'? That's different than refusing to drink blood at all"

Landon didn't answer her and instead pushed himself up. How could he possibly explain everything to her? It was crazy for him to believe, and he lived it. Hope stood up and moved closer to him, placing a hand on his  back to steady him. Her eyes showed concern as she watched him carefully.

"Take it easy. Landon. You seem exhausted"

"I'll be fine. I'm all healed, remember?  I can handle a fever and nausea and lightheadedness. It's mild. It could be worse"

Landon gave her a small smile as he  spoke, grateful it wasn't affecting him  worse. Being Malivore's son certainly came with problems, more than having Malivore constantly send monsters after him over and over again so that he could be possessed by his father. No, that wasn't all. He also had to react badly to hybrid and tribrid and probably regular vampire blood.

"Just get some rest" the tribrid said, looking at him. "My family doesn't mind." She gently nudged him back towards the bed. He sighed softly and sat down on the bed before laying on it and staring at the ceiling. "Good. Look, I'm sorry about... what I did to you. It was an accident. I was lashing out at my Uncle Elijah, and when you came in, I wasn't really paying attention to who you were. I just got caught up in anger. It's not an excuse though"

"It's fine, Hope. I forgive you. So is attacking relatives with super powers something you usually do?" he asked, looking up at her.

"No. No it's not. And what I did was... magic. Magic's real and so are vampires and werewolves but you don't need to worry about that. Just get rested and you can get back to your normal life"

She turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Landon sighed a little and stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything. He felt drained of energy, but he knew he could do what he needed to do to leave. He'd give himself a little longer here before leaving. However, his mind then drifted to what he knew about Hope during this time period. If she was attacking her uncle violently  like that, she had to have consumed the Hollow's magic by now. Which meant she was slowly dying, growing weaker with each passing moment.

He couldn't leave her like this, no matter how screwed up he was. He had to help her. And then he could worry about how he was handling things. How he wasn't the same Landon he had been when she gave him the page that listed how she viewed him. Though before he could do any of that, he needed to rest and recover from the vampire blood that had passed through his system. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off to sleep a bit, hoping he would feel back to normal once he woke up again.

Eventually, Landon woke up again and sat up, still feeling a little off but better than before. Sunlight was streaming through his window. He put on his jacket that he saw folded on the dresser.  He grabbed his bag and opened it before pulling out one of blades and concealing it in his jacket. He zipped up his bag and headed downstairs with it. He suddenly heard muffled voices from a side room and looked towards it before looking away.

"Landon, is it?" questioned the mostly unfamiliar voice of Hope's father.

Landon turned his head to look at him. "Yes, that's me"

"Have you ever been to New Orleans before?" Klaus questioned, walking closer to him.

"Once briefly about a year and a half ago"

"Have you tried beignets before, Landon?"

"No, sir,  I haven't" Landon replied Klaus chuckled a little at the word sir being used. He certainly wasn't used to people who weren't full of fear and trying to please him. And even then, it had been a while. "Well, then, you should probably try them while you are here. Come on" he said and led Landon to the dining room. "Make yourself comfortable"

Landon looked at Klaus and took a seat at the long table, looking around a little curiously. He set his backpack down on the ground near him.  Klaus came back with two plates of beignets and set one down in front of Landon before taking a seat himself. Landon looked at the original hybrid curiously. He had read first hand in Dr. Saltzman's books all Klaus had done, but when he looked at him all he really saw was Hope's father. The man who would/had died for her.  But Landon did not want that to happen again. He did not want Hope to lose her family members again. Though he wished that he could have gone back in time soon enough to save her mother as well. Unfortunately, his luck never seemed to go that well.

"You seem unsurprised about the supernatural existing" Klaus  said "Well, you saving my life does help with my perspective" Landon said, looking at him.  "And I trust Hope. Even though she magically hurt me" He would never stop trusting her. Landon looked at the sugary breakfast in front of him. He picked up a beignet and took a bite, sugar falling a little on his shirt in the process.  "I didn't realize you  knew my daughter so well that you trust her. Or perhaps you simply trust easily" "I don't. Trust easily. However, I do trust her" Landon said, looking at Klaus, his expression serious.  "Did Hope tell you about her family when she went to check up on you?" "No, she didn't"  "Well, I am the Original hybrid, part vampire and part werewolf. The rest of my siblings are Original vampires, except Freya who is a witch. We are 1000 years old and are very protective of our family. Killing people that pose a threat to us. Do you have any family, Landon?" "My mother and brother died. Other than that, I have no one I consider family"  Landon said, taking another bite of a beignet.

Malivore certainly did not count. He wanted to use Landon as a vessel and consume all supernatural creatures, including his friends. And Clarke.... well... Clarke was the whole reason Malivore rose. He tossed the final artifact in and was the reason the vase was put in Malivore as well. He's the reason Hope had to sacrifice herself. And he was the reason Josie went dark, which resulted in several other problems.

"I have lost a mother and brother as well" Klaus said, "though I killed my mother. Twice. As well as my fathers. Both biological and not" Klaus said calmly, watching him as he ate as well, despite not needing to. "You seem very cautious, even before you knew what I was"  "I've been through  a lot recently" "Please, enlighten me" "It's something I don't want to talk about. Not because I don't trust you or Hope or anything but simply because I don't feel comfortable discussing it at all" "I noticed your scars and your burn marks" Klaus said, and Landon's hand subconsciously drifted to his arm, powder getting on his jacket. "What happened?" "My foster dad used to burn me with cigarettes"  Something shifted in Klaus' expression as he looked at Landon, the same way it had when he saw Marcel being abused so many years ago. It was something he could relate to very much. He was silent for a moment, his gaze lowering, and he took a bite of his beignet to fill the silence.

Landon was grateful for the silence, still not used to being around people. He continued eating, thinking about everything going on. He knew a lot happened in this time frame, and he wanted to be able to help.  Finally, he spoke up again "Is something... wrong with Hope? She seems to be... hurting, I don't know" "She's going through a lot right now after taking in some dark magic. But that is not your concern. Now finish eating" Landon continued eating and looked at him a bit. His head turned as he heard someone quietly approaching before they were in sight. It was Hope "Hey" Hope greeted, looking at the two. She didn't show it visibly but Landon could tell by the look in her eye that she was in pain. "I went to check on you, but you were already up"  "Yeah. I'm feeling better now. Mostly anyways. Better enough. Thank you for the.. herbal mixture that you gave me" Landon said, looking at her "You're welcome"  Hope said. Landon finished up his beignets, and Hope walked over to Landon. "It was really nice seeing you again." She looked at him and turned away as Klaus approached.

Klaus stepped in front of Landon, who slowly stood up, his bag in hand. "You do not remember anything unusual about Hope or the rest of the family. You saw nothing supernatural. You ran into Hope near our family home. It was getting late so we invited you in to stay the night. When you woke up, you had breakfast with me and are now leaving this city and are not going to think twice about what you could have had for Hope. You are going to find somewhere to live away from that foster dad you mentioned and have a happy human life, safe and away from New Orleans." "Are you out of your minds? How could I forget any of this?" Landon questioned. "Did you do it wrong?" Hope questioned.  "I'm a thousand years old. I am fairly certain I know how to compel people" Klaus replied "Well, it didn't work."  "Obviously it didn't work. He has been here so he couldn't have had vervain. If he can't be compelled, it can only mean one thing. That he is a supernatural being. Unless, of course, he had vervain with him that he took before coming downstairs." Klaus moved at vampire speed to grab the bag from Landon, who instinctively moved defensively but was too slow. Klaus tossed Hope the bag, and she opened it.

"Weapons?" Hope  questioned in confusion, her tone wary as she slowly looked back up at Landon, a wooden weapon in her hand. "You're a hunter?" Landon's lips parted open for a moment before he closed them. "No. Not in the way you are thinking. I swear. Look, we can talk about this. I wanted to when I first saw you, but I had no idea how to explain it"

Klaus moved at vampire speed, pinning Landon to the wall. Landon looked at Klaus, unafraid. "Is that so? Who are you?" he questioned, his grip tightening a bit. "Hope, keep looking"  "My name is Landon Kirby. I wasn't lying. I haven't lied to either of you. Except for why I came here. And that was only kind of a lie"

Hope shuffled through his bag. "I don't see any vervain. He couldn't be on it unless he hid it somewhere" "I can't be compelled"  "Well then I guess you have a lot of explaining to do" Hope said and waved a hand. "Ad somnum" Landon Kirby fell to the ground, unconscious.

[daydreaming-nerd]

You...You Love Me?(Anakin Skywalker X Reader)

I’m sorry these are all taking so long guys! I’m doing my best! Also I don’t know where are you Anakin stans came from but damn I love you all so much. I too have been mourning the loss of people who write for Anakin so I’m here to try and change that! BTW I love this prompt! Knight in shining armor? I think the fuck so.  

Anon request: “I love your writing! I’ve read almost all of your work and I’m in love! I was wondering if you could write an imagine for Anakin? Like super angst about the reader getting captured while on a mission by general grievous and is tortured for information but give up nothing so she’s pretty badly hurt, the council sends anakin and Obiwan to rescue the reader. Her and Anakin are best friends and when he sees how badly hurt she is it reminds him of his mother and he confesses his feelings for her”  

Warnings: Torture

The council had decided to send me on this mission alone, and it seemed easy enough. Go to Geonosis and find out what General Grievous plan was. But as simple as it all seemed Anakin didn’t want me to go. After a little arguing about duty and responsibility I ended up where I am now being escorted god knows where by members of a droid army.  The mission had gone terribly, after entering the atmosphere of Geonosis I busted an engine and crashed onto the surface. I landed surprisingly well but it wasn’t long until my cover was completely blown leading me here, a cold room with no windows and I was chained to the wall by my arms like an animal.  

The metal door swung open revealing General Grievous and a chill went through my body as he marched in with two other guards and the heavy metal door slid close with a hope crushing slam. 

“Master y/n,” he started “How nice of you to drop by,” 

“As you can see it wasn’t exactly my plan to say hello,”

“No I’m sure it wasn’t. But since you’re here would you care to enlighten me on what the Republic plans to do next,”

I didn’t say a word. 

“You can either speak or be made to speak Master Y/n, the choice is yours,” he continued.  

I refused to give up anything.

“Do what you must until she speaks,” he said to the guards “fetch me when she does.” 

With that Grievous was gone as fast as he came and a harsh blow of a fist went across my face. 

----------ANAKINS POV---------- 

“The council has requested us,” Obi Wan said popping his head into my door.

“What do you think they need from us,” I asked as we briskly walked down the corridors. 

“I don’t know, but it seemed urgent.”

We opened the doors to the council chambers and they all sat around looking very somber.

“Terrible news I have,” said Yoda “Master y/n has been taken hostage by General Grievous,”

“We have to rescue her” I said a little too quickly.

“Anakin please,” said Obi Wan

“Rescue her you will, before it is too late.” said Yoda and without another moment passing I ran from the council room to the nearest ship. I can’t live without y/n, I won’t. I haven’t even gotten the chance to tell her I loved her. 

----------Y/N POV---------- 

I must have been there for at least 24 hours now. I was beginning to lose hope that help would come.  The torture didn’t end after an hour or two, and it probably didn’t end after I blacked out the way I was feeling right now.

It was more than just punches and kicks to the face and the ribs. By now I had burn marks on both arms, whip marks across my back, cuts all over including a small one on my face, stab wounds and a broken ankle. 

For hours no one had heard my screams of pain, no one. Whatever was going to happen next would surely be the end of me, but it wouldn’t be the end of the Republic. 

It had gotten to the point where the guard was actually trying to find new ways to torture me. He finally turned around and pulled the knife from my thigh causing me to wince in pain.

“One last chance Jedi,” he said in my face. 

I remained silent.

In the blink of an eye the knife flew through the air and penetrated my abdomen. I could tell that he didn’t hit right in the center of me on purpose so I would eventually bleed out. The room began to get colder as he stepped back and waited for me to finally give up the information he had been waiting hours for.

Faintly I could hear something outside the room. 

A lightsaber.

Someone had come for me after all. The door slid open and all I could see was the blue glow of a lightsaber.

“Did you do this to her?!” said my rescuer in anger.

With the swing of his light saber he took down the guard who had brought so much pain on me. As they came closer I started to think it was Anakin.

“Ani?” I peeped out.

He started to undo my chains and held me in his arms before I crumbled to the ground. I groaned in pain at the sudden movement.

“Anakin,” I said in relief finally staring into the blue eyes I called home.

“Shh y/n I’m here, you’re safe,” he said taking my hand in his.

“Ani... go,” I squeaked.

“No I won’t leave you, stay with me, Obi Wan will be here in a minute and he’s going to show us the way out.” He said tearing up finally taking in how bad the damage really was.

“I can’t... make... it,”

“I won’t lose you like I did my mother y/n, I love you too much,” He said crying.

“You... you, love me?”

“I do, when the council told me you had been captured I was so scared I’d never get to tell you.” He said trying to smile.

“I love you too Ani,” I smiled earning one from him back “I’m so...c-cold”

“I know you are love,” he said taking off his outer robe and wrapping me in it 

“Ani..” I chocked out feeling the light leave me.

“y/n please stay with me, I can’t lose you!” he screamed as tears rolled down his cheeks “OBI WAN!!!” 

The last thing I remember was the feeling of being carried. 

-------------------- 

I woke up in some kind of medical center with a billion needles sicking in me feeding me a billion different kinds of fluid. 

“You’re awake,” I heard a voice say. Looking to my left I saw Anakin with puffy eyes.

“Ani,” I said smiling.

“I was so scared I lost you,” He said taking my hand in his.

“Am I going to be okay?” 

“You’re going to be just fine, you’re recovering from blood loss mostly.” he paused before he continued “what did they do to you?” 

“What didn’t they do. I was burned, cut, stabbed, kicked, punched, whipped. I never gave anything up though,” 

Anakin rested his forehead on my hand that he was holding on the bed and from the hitch in his breathing I could tell he was crying.

“Ani please don’t cry! You said it yourself I’m fine now. You saved me!” I exclaimed. 

“I should’ve gotten there killed every last one of them. I should’ve gotten there sooner. I should’ve never let you go all alone.” He said looking up at me.

“Anakin Skywalker if you blame this on yourself I’ll kill you.” I said forcing a smile out of him.

“Comments like those are what made me fall in love with you,” he said leaning his forehead on mine.

“And your big heart is what made me fall in love with you,” I smiled.

And we met in the middle for the best first kiss anyone ever knew.

[adenei]

Auror 99 - Chapter 12

Ao3 || FFN

Takedown

“Fifteen minutes til his visiting window,” Ron said as he walked over to Harry and Hermione. “You have the cuffs?”

Harry nodded. “I’ll be under the cloak, waiting in the G’s section.”

“And I’ll be over on the other side of the archives, near the immigration records,” Ron clarified. “I just finished speaking with the Auror team sent to aid us if necessary. They’ll take their positions at the other stairwell once we notify them that he’s entered the area with the DA coins. Hermione, it was brilliant of you to think to use them, again. Jake, Amy and Charles are keeping watch outside.

“Rosa,” Ron paused as Rosa took off Harry’s invisibility cloak and handed it back to Harry, “You and Hermione will take the back staircase. Remember, if you have to shoot, nothing lethal. Let Hermione attempt a stunning spell first, but remember he’s quick. Any questions?” Everyone shook their heads.

“We should get into position,” Harry said. 

Ron walked with Rosa and Hermione and stopped at the door to the stairwell. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He asked Hermione as Rosa gave them a private moment.

“Yes. I know it’s been years, but I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’ve forgotten.”

“I know, I wasn’t saying that. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I will be. I’m more worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Just make sure you’re well hidden in the stacks, alright? You don’t know if today will be the day he decides to check a different area. Don’t assume he’ll just head to Harry,” Hermione warned him.

She made a good point. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” He kissed her briefly, and she squeezed his hand before slipping through the door. 

Ron walked over to the immigration archives and hid in the next aisle over from where they made their breakthrough yesterday. He positioned himself in the center of the aisle, just in case he needed to move one way or the other. And now we wait.

It didn’t take long for Gerteso’s arrival. He was a creature of habit. Ron heard the far door open and close, the scratch of the quill on parchment was faint, but there, and then the heavy footsteps of work boots that indicated he was on the move. He waited for them to stop in the G section as they had the day before, but they kept clunking, and they were getting louder.

Fuck. Ron moved swiftly to the far end of the aisle, and took cover on the edge of the shelves. He wasn’t sure how Hermione knew he’d change his search today, but she did. He quickly took out his coin and sent the message that was already pending for MACUSA, and waited. He hoped to Godric that Harry followed him, so he’d have ample back up. The last fight wasn’t easy, but hopefully this time he had the element of surprise. 

Sure enough, he heard Gerteso stop walking a few aisles over, most likely search the G’s again. Ron felt the coin heat up indicating MACUSA was in place. A few moments later, he felt it heat up again. It only had two letters “IG”. He knew that was Harry, telling him where Gerteso was. ‘Immigration - G’s.’

Ron checked each aisle stealthily as he made his way closer to where Gerteso was. He didn’t need to send Harry a reply asking if he was ready. They’d worked together long enough to know Harry was there and had his back. Ron positioned himself and could see Gerteso in the middle of the row, pulling boxes. He waited for him to put the box back before he made his move.

As soon Gerteso’s hand left the box, Ron waved his wand, casting a silent stunning spell. A flash of red hit him square in the chest, and another spell was cast immediately after. Ron covered his body in case Gerteso got a spell out, as he was bloody quick the last time, but he saw Gerteso’s wand flying toward Harry, who must have cast Expelliarmus. Ron cast Incarcerous next and watched as ropes flew out of the end of his wand and wrapped tightly around Gerteso. 

Harry had taken off the invisibility cloak in the meantime, and stuffed it in his cloak. He was now headed toward Gerteso to cuff him. They weren’t taking any chances. As British Aurors, they weren’t as well versed in the magic of vampires, so they didn’t want to risk his potential for wandless magic. Ron met Harry at the bound man, and held him up while Harry attached the cuffs. He said the spell and they lit up purple, indicating they were working.

Ron cast the counterspells to any disillusionment and glamour charms. It partially did the trick, but it didn’t fully reveal Gerteso’s true identity. Harry and Ron looked at each other, communicating silently. It had to be Polyjuice potion. That would make sense with his time limit, and why he only spent forty five minutes on any given day. They searched Gerteso for any signs of a flask, but had no luck. 

The sick git simply smiled eerily at them. “Can’t apprehend me if you can’t prove who I am.”

“Nice try,” Harry said as he tapped the cuffs that turned a bright shade of blue. “New technology,” he said to Ron, who nodded in understanding. Kingsley was really pulling out all the stops for them.

“State your name,” Harry said gruffly.

They watched as Gerteso opened his mouth in an attempt to use whatever alias he’d chosen that day, and then his eyes grew wide.

“Go on, tell us,” Ron said. 

“Leonardo-” he looked pained, “Guarnieri.” It was clear he hadn’t spoken his real name in years by the way it seemed so foreign against his lips. 

“Do you also go by the alias Howard Gerteso?” Ron asked.

“Y-yes,” the man had no choice but to tell the truth.

“Well, then, Howard Gerteso, you’re under arrest,” Ron said.

Harry went to retrieve Hermione and Rosa, tossing the cloak to the latter. Rosa took out her phone to let Jake, Amy and Charles know to standby. Hermione left with Rosa to go meet the rest of the group and to notify Kingsley that Gerteso was in custody. Harry began guiding Gerteso towards the stairwell, where the MACUSA Aurors were waiting, while Ron doubled back to pull Martini’s wand record for questioning.

~o~ 

A short time later, Kingsley joined Harry and Ron, who were waiting outside the questioning room. The polyjuice potion had finally worn off, and Gerteso was in his true form. Harry and Ron still kept up the disguises they’d started with for anonymity purposes. They were joined by the MACUSA Auror Director, a Mr. Stanley. 

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you need anything,” he said to Kingsley. 

He left them and headed back to his office. “I’ll be right out here watching and listening. I trust you two.” Kingsley gestured towards the room.

“Thank you, sir,” Harry and Ron said.

Harry and Ron walked in and were met with a scowl on Gerteso’s face. “Well, , he doesn’t look too pleased to see us, does he Jason,” Ron said to Harry.

“Not at all, Nolan. So he must know he’s going to have to do the time for all the money laundering he did in Gringotts,” Harry responded.

Gerteso grunted, but didn’t deny his responsibility.

“So, Howard, or should we call you Leo? What brings you to New York?” Ron asked him.

“Vacation,” he said snarkily.

“Yeah? A vacation that required you to use polyjuice potion to sneak into the wand records office of MACUSA for the past week or so?” Harry countered.

“Last I checked it was open for anyone to check,” he spat back.

“So why the secrecy?” Ron continued. 

“I don’t have to tell you two anything.”

“You don’t have to, but it might make it easier for you. Of course, it’d take the fun away from us, since we knew you were after this,” Ron pulled Martini’s file out of his cloak and set it on the table. “What’s your brother got that you’re after, Leo?”

“Everything,” he growled.

Well, if this wasn’t the classic case of jealousy and revenge, Ron didn’t know what was.

“How long have you gone by Gerteso, then?” Harry asked.

“Long enough.”

“We’re going to need a more specific answer than that. Only since your time at Gringotts? Or maybe, since this photo?” Ron pulled out the photo they’d printed from the newspaper clipping all those years ago.

“How’d you find that? That’s from a muggle newspaper.” Gerteso leaned forward to get a better look.

“We’re the ones asking the questions,” Harry said firmly. “How do you know that shopkeeper.”

“Fine.” It looked like Gerteso was finally going to give up some information. “He took me in after the attack. I was in the kitchens before the death eaters invaded the orphanage. I was able to sneak out the back door and hide behind a dumpster. That’s how I saw Benedict escape with my brother. I was about to call out to them, but then the explosion happened and it knocked me out. When I woke up they were gone. That shopkeeper found me and took me in. Thought it best to change my name, and then he raised me muggle.”

“No one from Hogwarts came for you?” Harry asked even though he knew the answer.

“Why would they? Everyone assumed we were good as dead, even though they never recovered our bodies. Course, all the records were destroyed, so they didn’t actually know how many of us perished, did they?”

“So how’d you get a wand? And learn magic?” Ron asked.

“Why’s it matter?” Gerteso had a knack for answering questions with questions.

“Why? Well, the fact that you’re practicing magic and worked at Gringotts is the ‘matter.’ So please, enlighten us,” Ron pressed.

“Stole one. Then taught myself.”

“Did you steal the books, too?” Harry asked. Gerteso simply shrugged. Just another crime to add to the list.

“Alright, so you’re clearly going to Azkaban for a long time. Money laundering, from the goblins no less, stealing, impersonating others, evading the law... so how about you tell us what you want with your brother.” Ron was getting ready for the cincher.

“I want what’s mine.”

“Which is…?” Harry was starting to get impatient.

“His title.”

Ron nodded. “Thanks, Leo.” He nodded to Harry, and they left the room to discuss with Kingsley.

“Good work, you two,” Kingsley said. “What are you thinking for your next steps?”

“I’d like to leave him in the dark until tomorrow. We should bring him to the 99 so they can question him for his identity theft. It’ll only make our case stronger,” Harry said and Ron nodded as he took over. 

“Hermione is working with Rosa and Amy to contact Martini and ask him to stop by the precinct for a publicity stunt. They’ll give him a tour, and we’ll bring him in the room and Disarm him when he sees his brother.” 

“We’ll make sure we have time to get Gerteso to comply with helping the MACUSA team take his brother down. He’s got a lot of jealousy and vengeance flowing through him, so it shouldn’t be too hard,” Harry finished.

“Very good. I will have Gerteso transferred to holding, and will personally see to it that he’s transferred to the 99 tomorrow morning. We should be able to wrap this up tomorrow if all goes well.”

“Thanks,” Harry and Ron said.

“You two may go. Make sure your plan is well thought out with the team. Once Gerteso is settled in his cell, I’ll visit Holt and give him the rundown. We will plan for nine tomorrow morning. Now, get back to your team,” Kingsley said.

Harry and Ron said their goodbyes and made their way to  join the rest of the team.

~o~

The team spent the last couple of hours planning out every detail, question and potential move Martini could make tomorrow. Holt was able to contact Martini, who confirmed he would visit the precinct. Now that they’d secured his visit, the team was also certain that Gerteso would be willing to help them take down his brother. It’d be a brief, but shocking reunion for sure. Satisfied things were in good shape for tomorrow, the team retired early again for more movies.

“I think we can get through two more movies tonight!” said Amy. “And then the other two tomorrow, if you’re allowed to stay one extra night.”

“I’m sure Kingsley won’t have a problem with it,” Hermione said kindly. She knew they all wanted to get home, but she needed to see this through, and hoped that the boys were invested, too.

“Honestly, if we can wrap this up in the morning, we could finish the reports, watch the movies and then we could take a late portkey. We have to come back to pack up anyways. Plus, Kingsley should at least have the decency to give us a few days off after this case,” Ron suggested. “So we can rest when we’re home.”

“That’s true,” Harry said. 

“I can go help speed the process along by starting the paperwork tonight,” Rosa suggested. Well, it wasn’t really a suggestion, more of a statement, as she’d already grabbed her jacket and was headed out the door. “I’ll meet you guys at the precinct in the morning.”

Ron looked worriedly at the rest of the detectives. “Don’t mind Rosa, she likes her private life. She already brought her stuff back to her place before you got back from questioning. You don’t have to worry about her loyalty. Actually, you should be thankful, she never offers to do extra paperwork,” Jake explained. “She’s also clearly not an HP fanatic like Amy and Charles are.”

“And you,” Amy said with a smirk.

“Okay, fine, I’ve joined the dark side,” Jake finally relented.

“Well, it’s good to know not everyone is obsessed with my story,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Shall we, then?” Amy asked.

The group settled in to watch Order of the Phoenix. As the scenes progressed, Ron muttered to Harry, “At least our hair’s a more accurate length for this go around.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “That was pretty awful. And why is mine much more tame? What are they trying to accomplish?” Harry and Ron shrugged as Amy remained awfully quiet.

It was a longer movie, but it was more accurate in their minds than the fourth. “Umbridge really was awful,” Hermione commented. “And that actress gave a chilling performance. It felt like I was there all over again.” 

Harry glanced at his hand, which still had his own handwriting on the back of his hand. “Well, they got the disaster of my relationship with Cho on point, but where were your Department of Mysteries injuries?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione. He looked at Amy. “Are they in the books at least? It was bad. They were in the hospital for over a week. Hermione didn’t even wake up for several days.”

“It’s in the books, yes,” Amy confirmed, “but I think the movies wanted to focus more on your loss than the other’s injuries.” She was referring to Sirius.

Ron could tell Harry was tense so he changed the conversation. “Well, I for one, am insulted that they completely disregarded Firenze, and they left out the swamp. What a shame.”

Hermione nodded. “Should we start the sixth?”

Amy got up to change the discs as Harry gave Ron and Hermione a look. “Well, this should be fun.”

Hermione and Ron both grimaced. Hermione looked at Ron. “Can I just take a moment to apologize ahead of time again for the canaries? If they’re even there…”

“Oh, they’re there!” Charles chimed in.

“I’m sorry, too, for...well, you know,” Ron said. 

They’d been together long enough  that the whole year had been discussed at length, except for one tiny detail that Hermione seemed to have forgotten about.

The movie started rolling with the Underground scene. “Er, what is this? This never happened.” Harry looked incredibly confused. “They really didn’t use the Dursleys in this at all?” He looked surprised as Amy and Charles shook their heads.

The trio was on edge for several of the scenes they knew were coming, but it wasn’t until the Quidditch trials scene started that Hermione let out a shriek. “Oh, no. Shit! No!” She looked at Harry as Ron asked her what was wrong. It was completely out of character for her to swear.

“N-nothing. Could we- Amy can we skip this scene?” she asked nervously.

Amy seemed to realize what Hermione was alluding to, but Ron spoke up first. “No, keep playing it.” He watched as Movie Hermione cast a confundus charm on McLaggen and looked at her.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“I- it wasn’t because I thought you couldn’t do it!”

“Hermione-”

“I was so mad at him and his smugness. He needed that cocky smile rubbed off his face. He would have been awful - he was awful! When he played in that second match. He was such a foul pain in the arse.”

Hermione’s face threatened tears as Ron looked to Harry. “Did you know?”

“I only guessed, and I told her it was wrong. I wouldn’t have let him make the team anyways, but apparently she didn’t trust my judgement either,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” 

“Because by the time I confirmed it you were in a right foul mood because of Ginny, and then you spent months snogging Lavender. By that point, the season was almost over, and McLaggen’s true colors came out anyways.”

Jake, Charles, and Amy were watching even more intently than they had the movie, which Amy had since paused. Everyone waited to see how Ron would react, and they were all surprised when he simply smirked and put his arm around his wife.

“You know, looking back on it, it’s kind of sweet that you wanted to help me and make McLaggen suffer.”

Hermione gaped at him. “You’re not mad?” Even Harry looked surprised.

“If it was fifteen years ago? Yeah, I probably would have been, but I’d like to think I’ve matured enough to not let something that happened when we were sixteen bother me now. Can we keep going?”

Hermione relaxed a bit and sunk into his side as they continued. Everyone was trying to keep their comments to a minimum as they had the previous evening so they wouldn’t miss anything, but when the scene with the Burrow catching fire appeared, the trio all lost their minds. 

Even Amy and Charles agreed that it was a very odd addition that wasn’t necessary in the slightest. Jake thought the effect was cool, but sort of out of place. After the outburst, they were able to make it to the end, and the trio looked shell shocked. Up until that point, things weren’t terrible, but what the writers and directors had done to Ginny and Ron’s characters was completely inexcusable.

“Ginny may well kill someone if she ever sees that,” Harry commented. “And what was up with Ron being so far in the back of that last scene? That’s not how it went at all.”

“I’m actually pretty disgusted,” Hermione agreed. 

“As much as you kissing Ginny after that match shocked me, mate, I think they did a disservice by totally changing that here. Whatever that was supposed to be in the Room of Requirement was just awkward..” Ron said.

“I was really upset when I saw they’d messed that up,” Charles agreed, ever the romantic.

“Amy,” Hermione said, not paying attention to the rest of the conversation. 

“Yeah?”

“Please tell me that the screenwriters were not trying to attempt to create a nonexistent relationship seem plausible.”

Amy gave Hermione a worried and apologetic look. “I wish I could..”

“Oh my god,” Hermione’s face was red and she looked livid.

“What?” Harry and Ron were looking at her.

“They were trying to imply that Harry and I would have been a better couple! I’m so angry I could scream.”

“Hermione, you wanted to watch these,” Jake tried to tell her.

“And I don’t regret it, but there’s no wonder there’s all this speculation still surrounding the three of us.”

“ ‘Mione, stop, it doesn’t matter. We’re happy, Harry’s happy with Ginny. We’ll tell the rest of them to bugger off, it’s fine,” Ron tried to reassure her.

“It’s not fine! They completely destroyed your character, and elevated mine to make me seem too desirable! How are you not more upset by this?”

“Because it’s fiction based on presumed fiction. Muggles don’t know we’re real, so this is all just a story to them. It’s no use getting your knickers in a twist over. Our real fans know what’s true and what the movies fucked up, yeah? We can’t let it affect us.”

Hermione let out a loud sigh. “I really hate when you’re the voice of reason.”

Ron grinned at her as Jake and Harry suggested they should all probably get some sleep. “We’ll finish this saga tomorrow, and then Amy and Charles, you owe me some Die Hard marathons!” Jake said excitedly. 

“To one more day and an almost closed case,” Charles said as they all stood to go to their separate rooms.

“Cheers!” chorused the rest of the group. It was hard to believe this crazy case was going to come to an end tomorrow.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The BNHA Group Chat Fic Nobody Asked For

Pairings: Todoroki Touya (Dabi)/Mr Compress (Sako Atsuhiro), Shimura Tenko (Shigaraki Tomura)/Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)/Kurono Hari (Chrono), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)/Shirakumo Oboro (Loud Cloud), Fukukado Emi (Ms. Joke)/Kayama Nemuri (Midnight), Bakugo Katsuki/Kaminari  Denki/Kirishima Eijiro, Iida Tenya/Monoma Neito/ Aoyama Yuuga

Word Count: 1,529 Words

Summary: Hitoshi goes home, an Aizawa-Yamada fashion show happens, the Todoroki-Yukimura family is having issues, and the Provisional Licensing Exam happens.

Warnings: Injury Mention, Food Mention, Cursing, Fire Mention, Trauma Mention, Arranged Marriage Mention, Caps, Half Blind Character, Deaf Characters, Mostly Mute Character (due to a different medical issue), Selectively Mute Character, let me know if I should add anything else.

Notes: Yes, I know they met The Big 3 already, but I'm rearranging and Aizawa introduced 1-A to The Big 3 before the Provisional Licensing Exam because he wanted to inspire them to achieve their best in the exam, even the L.O.V. kids. Also, the fight between Midoriya and Bakugou never happened.

Usernames: We Are Number One™ Aizawa: Dadzawa, Aoyama: immafiringmahlaser, Ashido: princessbubblegumknockoff, Asui: Galvan, Iida: Emergency Exit, Uraraka: 9.8, Ojiro: tailfloof, Kaminari: Pichu, Kirishima: baby shark, Koda: youredoingamazingsweetie, Sato: GuyFieriIsGod, Shoji: Cthulhu, Jirou: Jack Skellington, Sero: Spider-Man, Tokoyami: EdgarAllanCrows, Todoroki: WHERE?, Hagakure: cena, Bakugo: WHAT?, Midoriya: SmolMight, Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: exhausted, Yaoyorozu: TheGreatCreator, Kurono: stopwatch, Chisaki: donthugmeimscared, Yukimura: choticgaydisaster, Bubaigawara: shadowclonejutsu, Shimura: idontfeelsogood, Awase: illrememberyouallintherapy, Kaibara: IDOWHATIWANT, Kamakiri: scyther, Kuroiro: itsmeyaboy, Kendo: Akimichi, Kodai: deadinside, Komori: shroomgurl, Shiozaki: wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs, Shishida: furry, Shoda: cryptid, Tsunotori: mylittlepony, Tsubaraba: airbender, Tetsutetsu: Iron Man, Tokage: t-rex costume, Fukidashi: glorifiedtextbubble, Honenuki: Eren Jaeger/spookyscaryskeletons, Bondo: Slimer, Monoma: HopeSummers, Yanagi: iLiEdImDyInGiNsIdE, Rin: snek, Toga: mystique, Sako: lostmymarbles, Hikiishi: queenofmagnetism, Iguchi: eye gucci, Shinokanri: stardust

Usernames: Emos Anonymous Kaminari: blackcloakedbrides, Shoji: fryingpan, Jirou: greentwentyfourhours, Tokoyami: myscientificinfatuation, Todoroki: twentyoneplotpoints, Bakugo: immobileinwhite, Midoriya: falldownboy, Shinsou: stabtheveil, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Chisaki: plummetingininverse, Yukimura: anxietyintheclub, Shimura: nappingwithsirens, Kuroiro: thousandfootcane, Kodai: marianaspit, Monoma: entiretimelow, Yanagi: recentyearsday, Sako: halfminutetomars, Aizawa: hollywoodlivingdead, Shouji: fryingpan, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Aoyama: phantomtown, Honenuki: visualizedragon, Sako: halfminutetomars, Awase: distressparade, Shinokanri: simplestrategy

Usernames: UA Teachers Are Tired™ Eraserhead/Aizawa: grumpy scarf cat, Present Mic/Yamada: screeching cockatiel, Midnight/Nemuri: chaotic goth gay Ingenium/Iida: gotta go fast, AllMight/Toshinori: actual sunshine, Vlad King/Kan: bloody hell, Power Loader/Majima: speechtotext, Ectoplasm: needalegup?, Snipe: kazoo cowboy, Cementoss: concrete block, Blackmist/Kurogiri: goth portals

Shopping, Licenses, and Interships-Chapter 7

7:45 AM

We Are Number One™

exhausted: I'm goin home today bitches! they're finally releasing back upon this pitiful world after a week!

Dadzawa: and he's getting transferred to 1a today too.

chaoticgaydisaster: do you remember who did this, Hitoshi?

exhausted: no, I wish I did, but I don't. I only get flashes. My head got hit too hard I guess but I don't remember what happened well enough to know who did it.

exhausted: can we talk about literally anything else?

WHERE?: kay. how bout, do you want to go to the store with me and Touya later? we're getting our foods for the week. we can pick you up some stuff too.

exhausted: coolio. I need to pick up some stuff.

WHERE?: tell me a list so you don't forget anything, Hito. me and Tou always write our lists down, we'll write your stuff down too.

exhausted: kay. so I need rice, eggs, onions, scallions, tsuyu sauce, beef, chicken, shrimp, and pork for my lunches and you can bet your ass I'm picking up at least two other meal things but I haven't decided yet because the rest are dinners and I need my Mom's input.

Dadzawa: today's dinner is takoyaki and gyoza, tomorrow is your choice, Tuesday is oden and tempura, Wednesday me and your Dad need to agree on, Thursday is yakisoba-pan and ramen, Friday is your choice again, and Saturday is soba and curry bread.

exhausted: Eri already picked her two dinners?

stardust: yup!

exhausted: I'd have to say Monday is soba and yakitori and Friday is okonomiyaki and korokke.

Dadzawa: News from your Dad, Wednesday will be katsudon and onigiri.

stardust: WOOHOO!

exhausted: Yayy!

exhausted: let's go shopping, bitches.

WHERE?: Woo! Shopping day!

chaoticgaydisaster: We're going to the mall also btw.

exhausted: good, I need to get more clothes, half of mine are gone because of M****a.

WHERE?: time to spend my dad's money on nice clothes for my best friend.

exhausted: I love you, dude.

WHERE?: Love you too, Hito, now, let's go shopping.

2:46 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: Ah, that's where my son went today.

exhausted: it was fun, I got new sports bras.

Dadzawa: finally, we can burn the ones that are so old they're falling apart.

exhausted: they were spares!

Dadzawa: still burning them. love you, kid.

exhausted: hey, wait for me. I wanna burn them too!

3:17 PM

Izukrew

SmolMight: Is anyone else really concerned about Hitoshi? I mean, he got attacked and he won't say anything about it.

WHERE?: Izuku, I'm concerned, but it's none of our business.

SmolMight: You know what happened, don't you?

WHERE?: I may as well. But I'm not at liberty to say and Hitoshi doesn't need this right now. He went through something traumatic and I won't have you dredging it up again yet. He deserves to have more than a week to recover.

SmolMight: He'll be fine though, right?

WHERE?: He'll be okay. He's got all his friends and we'll help him no matter what happens.

SmolMight: We'll be the best damn friends to him ever!

4:41 PM

We Are Number One™

tailfloof: what's with the radio silence from all the former L.O.V.?

Emergency Exit: Kai had an allergic reaction so Tenko and Hari are with him in the ER. Atsuhiro had a meltdown and Touya is with him, Jin got hurt during a training drill yesterday and is being healed by Recovery Girl still, Himiko and Eri are at the their doctor today, Tami is working on changing her name legally today, and Shuichi is accompanying Tami.

tailfloof: Thank you inspector Iida for this enlightening information.

6:52 PM

We Are Number One™

exhausted: Mom, fashion show. I got new clothes.

Dadzawa: I know, I'm waiting in my room, Toshi. so is your Dad, Eri, and Ayane.

exhausted: Hells yeah! Family fashion show. I got a bunch of leggings.

Dadzawa: you can't just wear leggings, Toshi.

exhausted: And yet I do.

Dadzawa: you are an insufferable little gremlin child and you're lucky that I love you.

exhausted: That's the point.

8:39 PM

Trauma? Yeet. Memes? Yoink.

lapis: So how are the girls?

vulpix: All are good, they went to the store with us for food shopping.

wine: all happy.

thermostat: Good, I was worried because we haven't seen any of you in a week.

vulpix: yup. How are things back home?

thermostat: Well, it's okay. Nothing's changed much.

wine: what happened?

thermostat: Dad's setting me up for an arranged marriage now.

lapis: time to come home and beat our father's head in.

thermostat: Please don't, I don't want any of you going to jail over this.

wine: fine, but only because I respect your choices. but I will intervene if shit goes down.

vulpix: How are you okay with this?

thermostat: I'm not, but I don't want my brothers getting in trouble for me and me having to visit you idiots in a prison instead of at a school.

vulpix: As long as you know you can come to us if anything. And I mean ANYTHING happens to hurt you.

thermostat: I will, don't worry. And I'm taking care of the girls tomorrow because of you two's exam so I'll take them to school for you boys.

8:16 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: WHO'S READY FOR THIS LICENSING EXAM!???!!!!

Cthulhu: literally everyone???

spookyscaryskeletons: Good luck, you guys!

princessbubblegumknockoff: good luck yot you guys too! have fun at y'all's exam!

exhausted: Have fun you guys!

Dadzawa: Child, you fill M****a's place. You're going to take the exam today with 1-A.

exhausted: Gimme a minute. Just a minor heart attack.

exhausted: WHAT THE FUCK!? I'm not ready! Mom, you gotta pull me from it! I can't do this!

donthugmeimscared: And all of us LOVs started at UA less than a month ago! You can't expect us to be able to pass!

Dadzawa: I'm sure you'll all be fine. I have faith in you. Now get on the bus, I'll be down with my son's present in a few minutes.

8:25 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: Todoroki is asleep again. Both of the twins are.

EdgarAllanCrows: what have I done to deserve such adorable goth best friends?

shadowclonejutsu: And I thought one twin was cute, turns out both are.

lostmymarbles: Firstly, they're IDENTICAL twins. Secondly, don't you hit on my man, Jin, or you'll lose an arm.

shadowclonejutsu: Alright, alright. Not flirting, just saying. I'm with Iggi.

eye gucci: Dam straight.

shadowclonejutsu: *Dam gay.

eye gucci: You right tho.

4:17 PM

We Are Number One™

WHERE?: I can't believe we failed.

WHAT?: It wasn't even my fault! I was a nice bastard! I didn't scare them, they're just wimps!

chaoticgaydisaster: I can't believe I need to retake that.

idontfeelsogood: I only failed because of a technicality, why are you all complaing!

Akimichi: What technicality?

idontfeelsogood: I may have blown up the rock beneath me by accident because I got startled by Gang Orca showing up and hurt one of the fake civilians a little bit...?

stopwatch: Darling.

idontfeelsogood: And then I broke my left knee and sprained my right from falling and couldn't continue to compete.

stopwatch: There we go. The fake civilians said they weren't mad, they know they startled you and it was fine, but you hurt yourself and couldn't continue so you had to be disqualified to prevent you from injuring yourself even more.

idontfeelsogood: I woulda been better as a villain. I can't even save someone without something going wrong.

Dadzawa: I already told you that you all can retake the exam soon so there's no harm done. And your legs should heal up by the time of the next exam, Tenko, don't worry. You are not better off as a villain, you do have good in you, I can see it. You're doing your best, keep doing it, and we'll all be here for you when you aren't able to.

idontfeelsogood: Hang on, I'm gonna cry really quick.

stopwatch: I am hugging my boyfriend as we speak!

donthugmeimscared: As am I!

HopeSummers: Only me and Himi failed from our class, didn't have enough power to get through it all.

Iron Man: we're all proud of you both for trying your hardest, though!

mystique: And we all appreciate your support, guys.

9:14 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: 3 of the Big Six!

mylittlepony: The other three from the Big Six are here!

cena: INTERNSHIPS!

donthugmeimscared: Great, another thing that none of us are gonna be able to do because no agency in their right mind would ever want us.

Dadzawa: I've already matched you all to agencies that would love to have you there. It's tapes to your dorm doors. Have fun picking, children. And Toshi, you're in my agency with Light Splitter and Biolumina and all of the like.

exhausted: I love my Mom. Have I ever told you all how much I love my Mom? Because it's a lot. And entire fucking lot.

Dadzawa: yes, you have. you brag your Mom is the best ever a lot. you've done it since you were about two.

exhausted: And my point still stands thirteen years later. Must be a winning arguement.

Taglist: @logan-sanders-enthusiast @luckyicekitsune @whippedbel @lgbtforeverything @pinecone-chomper @mikmacmoo @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @purplespiderstormcloud @stankyratman @king-of-the-oranges @headcannons-and-random-things @fear-ze-queer @turtleluv799 @ymmm-someone

[sapphires-and-gold-fics]

Sense & Sensibility Braime AU Update!

Forget Me, Not

Chapter 15

They were three days on their journey, and Sansa’s behavior as they traveled was less than desirable, speaking up only to remark on any particularly pretty prospect they might pass, her thoughts flying ahead of their little caravan. Brienne, therefore, was forced to assign herself the post of civility, engaging Ser Brynden, talking with him of the sights, and laughing at his stories. Gradually Brienne lost her initial discomfort, but she remained guarded, allowing the Blackfish to regale a captive audience without expectation of her own performance.

As they passed through the city gates at midday on the third day, Brienne’s discomfort seeped in again, as if the shadow of some great winged beast of ages past had cast a shadow on her view. Though it was unlikely that they would run in the same circles, she was at this moment closer to Lord Lannister, Jaime’s father, than she had ever imagined she would find herself. She prayed that there would be no reason for their paths to cross, for her knowledge of the man’s misdeeds threatened to sabotage her self-control.

Ser Brynden’s townhouse was handsomely fitted up, and the ladies were immediately put in possession of a very comfortable apartment. As supper would be some hours off and Ser Brynden had almost immediately on their arrival stepped away on business, Brienne determined to employ the interval in writing to Catelyn. In a few moments, Sansa also sat down and began writing. “I was writing home already, Sansa,” said Brienne, “I can defer my letter a day or two if you would prefer to write to mother first.”

“I am not going to write to my mother,” replied Sansa hastily, as if wishing to avoid any farther inquiry. Brienne said no more; it immediately struck her that her sister must then be writing to Ramsay, and just as quickly concluded that they must therefore be engaged. This quick conviction, though not entirely satisfactory to Brienne, gave her the little pleasure of Sansa’s certainty. Sansa was finished in a very few minutes; in length, it could be no more than a note. Then she was up and ringing for the footman immediately.

Sansa’s eagerness to be gone from Riverrun had assured Brienne of Ramsay’s being in town and therefore confirmed to her her sister’s knowledge of his whereabouts. Brienne had been resolved not only to mind Mr. Snow’s attentions and ascertain his motives, but to allow for the possibility, though unlikely, that she had misunderstood his character before, and to allow him more credit. If however, she could determine that his motives with regard to her sister were less than sanguine, she would not hesitate to confront him and open Sansa’s eyes; otherwise, she must then learn to avoid every selfish comparison and banish every regret which might lessen her satisfaction in Sansa’s happiness. Yet now Brienne found herself confronted with a hesitation in herself which would inhibit her ability to meet her sister’s pleasure for the rest of the day, and doubted her ability to be even-minded toward the man.

The tea-things were brought in sometime after Sansa had already been disappointed more than once by a knock at a neighboring door, or a carriage that neglected to pause before theirs. Just as Brienne sat back with her cup a loud knock finally resounded unmistakably at Ser Brynden’s threshold. Brienne felt secure of it announcing Mr. Snow’s approach, and Sansa started toward the door as if in synchrony with Brienne’s thoughts, seemingly ready to throw herself into his arms, when Colonel Casterly appeared.

It was too great a shock for the girl to bear with calmness, and she left the room abruptly. Brienne was momentarily disappointed for her sister, and then for Tyrion when she saw that Sansa’s reaction to his arrival had not gone unnoticed. “Is your sister ill?” said he. Brienne answered in some mildly affected distress that she was, talking of the length of their journey, and every thing to which she could decently ascribe her sister’s rudeness.

He heard her with the most earnest attention, and then recollected his manners and began speaking directly of his pleasure at seeing them in King’s Landing, making the customary inquiries about the friends they’d left behind. She offered him refreshment which he accepted, seeming pleased to return to their friendly custom of former times. He had been in King’s Landing almost ever since quitting Riverrun. “I have been once or twice in the Vale for the few days on business, but it has never been in my power to return to Riverrun,” he had intimated.

Thinking of Jaime’s visit to the Arryns, Brienne wondered suddenly if he was acquainted with Tyrion. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak much of the Vale, Tyrion. Do you spend time there often?”

Tyrion began his reply when there was a commotion in the hall and the Blackfish appeared in the open doorway of the room. “Colonel!” cried he with great liberality, his usual noisy cheeriness perhaps a little more pronounced following his social club visit, “I am monstrous glad to see you. I could not come before, beg your pardon, you know one always has a world of little things to do after one has been away. But pray, how came you to conjure that I should be in town today?”

“Ah,” Tyrion set down his cup, “as I was about to enlighten Miss Stark, I had the pleasure of hearing it a Mr. Arryn’s where I have been dining.”

Of course, Tyrion would know the Arryns through Lord Edmure, Brienne thought, and given Jaime’s proximity to that family perhaps they were acquainted. But Brienne would not have an opportunity to raise the subject today.

“Oh, and how is my daughter looking then? Well rounded, no doubt?” This, with a twinkle in his eye.

Tyrion smiled politely, “Everyone appears to be in excellent health, Ser.”

“Aye, to be sure. I thought as much. Well, Colonel, I’ve brought two of the Miss Starks to town with me - the other is somewhere - but tell me where have you been since we parted? It was a shame you could not stay through the season.”

Tyrion’s eyes ticked toward Brienne who colored slightly, embarrassed by Ser Brynden’s insistence on laying out personal business in company. But Tyrion collected himself quickly, “I’m afraid there’s been much for me to attend to and,” reaching for his hat and rising with a grateful nod toward his interim hostess, “I’m afraid I must return to it but I promise you Ser not to be a stranger to this house or to your guests while you are here.”

“Capital!” cried the Blackfish with a satisfied grin. Tyrion took his apologetic leave of Brienne and then allowed Ser Brynden to escort him to the door.

For not the first time that day, Brienne felt she had been left with more questions than answers.

Sansa rose the next morning with recovered spirits and happy looks. They had not finished breakfast before Lysa Arryn arrived, so delighted to see them all. She proposed that the ladies accompany her to some shops where she had business that morning. Sansa, though declining at first, was finally persuaded by Brienne to go, being reminded that they had never been to town, and should take the opportunity to see it.

When they returned in the noon hour, no Ramsay nor any other visitor of interest had called. “How very odd,” Sansa said in a low and disappointed voice, as she turned her eyes back to the view of the street.

How odd indeed, Brienne repeated within herself, regarding her sister with uneasiness. A physical foe would be no trouble for Brienne But Ramsay’s invisible presence was pulling at Sansa’s heart in a way for which Brienne could not conjure an effective weapon.

The following morning found Sansa in spirits again, happy in the mildness of the weather and still happier in her expectation of a frost. The cooler weather is bad for man’s sport, thought Brienne, perhaps Ramsay has been in the country and Sansa is imagining that the chill will draw him back to town.

It would be quite cold at Winterfell now, her thoughts continued, wondering if the chill was a portent of that family’s arrival as well, for Robert and Cersei had never yet spent a winter in the North. She allowed herself to wonder briefly where Jaime might find himself given the season and then granted herself a momentary remembrance of being alone in the stables with him, the warmth of his hands on hers, and the warmth of his words.

Colonel Casterly, who had a general invitation to the house, was with them for tea almost every day; he came, it seemed, mostly to talk with Brienne, who often derived more satisfaction from conversing with him than from any other daily occurrence. Tyrion was kind and interested in what she had to say in a way that no one, save for Jaime Lannister and perhaps Eliza Blackwood, a pairing she chose not to think of too often. She herself was not overly solicitous of Eliza’s company, as it made thoughts of Jaime difficult, but Tyrion’s company she enjoyed immensely. She took great pains to engage with him without pity, despite his sometimes-concerned and earnest glances toward her sister.

A little more than a week after their arrival it finally became certain that Ramsay Snow had also arrived. His card was on the table when they came in from the morning’s drive. “Gods be good!” cried Sansa, “he has been here while we were out.” Brienne, glad at least to at last see some real happiness manifested in her sister’s countenance, and assured at least of Ramsay’s proximity, now ventured to reassure her sister that he would come again. But Sansa quickly quit the room with the precious card. How addictive it was to engage in the possibility of hope.

Sansa insisted on being left behind the next morning, anxious not to miss him again, which in turn made Brienne anxious about a possible reprisal of their last encounter at Riverrun, which had left her sister in tears. Brienne was unsettled through the whole of the morning, but when she and Mrs. Arryn came back to the house, but a glance at her sister was enough to inform her that no second visit and no reprisal had taken place.

When the letters were brought in after dinner, Sansa nearly knocked the footman over looking for one with her name on it. “You expect a letter then?” asked Brienne, no longer able to be silent. “Yes, a little -- not much.”

Brienne sighed, frustrated. “You have no confidence in me, Sansa.”

“No, Brienne.” And scoffed, “This reproach from you -- who have confidence in no one!”

“Me!” returned Brienne in some confusion, “indeed, Sansa, I have nothing to tell.” Save for other people’s secrets, she thought.

“Nor I,” answered Sansa with energy, her cheeks almost as red as her hair, “Our situations then are alike. We have neither of us anything to tell; you, because you communicate nothing, and I, because I conceal nothing.”

Again she watched as her sister quit the room, distressed by this charge of reserve in herself, and still lost as to how yet press for greater openness in Sansa. She thought of writing to Catelyn right away, but remembered at once where the root of Sansa’s sensibilities lay, and told herself she would wait until tomorrow when she hoped she might be able to present for her mother a more even representation of what had passed, and not draw concern from the Riverlands.

About the middle of the following day, Ser Brynden went out by himself on business and Brienne began her letter directly while Sansa, too restless for employment, walked from one window to the next, finally seating herself by the fire in melancholy meditation of the foot traffic below.

Brienne was earnest but sensible in her application to their mother, suggesting that Catelyn write to Sansa alone and demand an account of her real situation with respect to Mr. Snow. Her letter was all but finished when a knock at the door announced a visitor, and Colonel Casterly was announced. Sansa, who had seen him from the window, and who now hated company of any kind that arrived in any shape other than the one she sought, left the room before he entered it.

Tyrion looked graver than usual. He seemed pleased to find only Miss Stark present as if relieved not to encounter either the Blackfish or Sansa directly. After a pause of several minutes, their silence was broken by his asking her in a voice of some agitation when he was to congratulate her on the acquisition of a brother? Brienne was not prepared for such a question, and having no ready answer, was obliged to ask what he meant? He tried to smile as he replied, “Your sister’s engagement to Mr. Snow is very generally known.” The other man’s name sounded painful for him to speak.

“It cannot be generally known,” returned Brienne, “for her own family does not know it. Tyrion,” she said familiarly, “who has told you such a thing?” He looked surprised. “I beg your pardon, I am afraid my inquiry has been impertinent. Their correspondence and impending nuptials are universally talked of.”

Brienne felt her blood begin to boil, a thin sheen of sweat gathering at the back of her neck. “Who is saying such things?”

Tyrion cleared his throat and looked up at Brienne, his parallel embarrassment and pity evident. “Many, Miss Stark. By some with whom you are most intimate -- Ser Brynden and his daughter Mrs. Arryn, and Mrs. Blackwood… and others with whom you do not claim an acquaintance.”

Brienne was stunned. Of course, the Blackfish in his folly would make mention of his suspicions to the family, but to who else? Who else was in his company at the club? Tyrion interrupted her thoughts. “I might not have believed it except when I arrived the servant happened to be carrying a letter addressed to Mr. Snow in a lady’s hand, and so I was convinced before I could even ask the question of you.”

Brienne stood as if to follow Sansa’s footsteps from the room, but stopped herself. Why hadn’t she put an end to this business sooner? Leaned into her suspicions? Tyrion addressing her from her elbow drew her from her thoughts, her name in his mouth almost sounding like her memory of another. “Miss Stark… Brienne… is everything finally settled? Is it impossible to--” he stopped himself. “I have no right and no chance of succeeding do I, Brienne?” He looked away, not waiting for an answer, and moved to collect his hat and umbrella from beside the sofa. “I believe I have been wrong in saying so much, but I hardly know what to do, and on your prudence, I have the strongest dependence and trust. Tell met hat it is all resolved and that this secrecy is all that remains.”

Tyrion’s words and desperation seemed to avow to herself a love for her sister, and this affected Brienne very much. As she was at least convinced of Sansa’s affection for Ramsay and could leave no hope of the Colonel’s success, despite her own desire for her young sister’s betterment, she thought it most prudent and kind to acknowledge that, while she had been informed of the terms of the attachment by neither party, she had no doubt of their mutual affection, and confessed that she was unsurprised by their correspondence.

Tyrion listened to her silently and, once she had composed herself and returned to her seat, he bowed his head and spoke: “To your sister, Miss Stark, I wish all imaginable happiness; to Mr. Snow, that he may endeavor to deserve her.”

With that he took his leave, abandoning Brienne to her thoughts. She derived no comfort from this conversation, nothing to lessen the unease in her mind. She set her cup down and stretched her fingers, her palm itching for the weight of a blade, that she might take this matter in hand herself, the best way she knew how.

[thecleverdame]

Gods of Twilight - 6

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking

Beta:  ilikaicalie

*Chapters 7-25 (26 posting tonight) are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

Two Months Later

“How often do the two of you lie together?” The midwife asks, sitting across from you in judgment. You’ve been married eight months and you’re still not pregnant. Most of the kingdom sees it as your only job and for the most part, it is. As the queen, it’s your duty to provide your husband with heirs to his throne.

Growing up you could never picture yourself as a mother, in fact, you’d never confess it but in truth, the idea of having children is not appealing at all. But your ability to give Sam children is imperative and it’s a responsibility you take seriously.

“Enough.” You shift uncomfortably.

“Apparently not,” she quips. “Have you keep keeping yourself warm during the nights? It will help your womb ripen.”

“I think so, I don’t feel cold,” you offer, looking back to your bed. “Isn’t there something we can do? Herbs I could drink?”

“I’ll concoct a tincture, perhaps it will help.” She eyes you and then shrugs. “I’ll speak to your maids. Make sure they’re stoking the fire throughout the night.”

--

After months of seclusion, you begin to plot your own personal rebellion. Most nights are yours alone. The last of the servants come to check the fire just before midnight, leaving you alone until the morning light breaks.

You typically stay up late, reading by candlelight into the early hours of the morning. It’s on one of these late nights when you’re curled up by the fire that you hear gentle snoring coming from the hall.

The night guard, Tobias, has fallen asleep.

Opening the heavy door to your room you peek out to find him propped against the wall, dead asleep on his feet. Collecting a shawl you inch out the door, tiptoeing silently down the hallway. You scamper carefully over the stone walkways, stopping to exchange your shawl for that of a servant’s and make your way to the exterior of the castle.

You walk with the stealth of a ghost, silent and light, making your way through the dark streets of the village and out of the city. You walk and walk until the fields surrounding the castle are visible under the moonlight. Staying in the castle at night feels like a waste of this perfect opportunity to slip into the dark.

Over the following weeks, you come to crave the experiences of nighttime, when the stars kiss the sky, decorating the heavens above like the most exquisite jewels. Beauty beyond human creation, all for simply raising your eyes instead of watching the timid footfalls that take you toward the aging drawbridge.

It’s here in Lebanon you discover your thirst for life after sunset, seeking ghosts of the past and whatever else prefers the world without the glare of the sun. In this shadowless black your ears are perfect, your senses heightened.

The night guard into a predictable pattern and you watch the clock tick well past midnight as you pry the door open to assure he’s asleep, which most night he is. These free nights are spent in the fields, laying your back, staring up at the heavens and dreaming of a different life, an existence where you’re free to choose your own path. If you were a man you’d go on grand adventures, exploring distant lands and uncharted territories. You get lost in these waking dreams, oftentimes for hours.

Tonight you’re running at full speed across the open field, your breath fast and heavy as you push farther and faster, skin covered in sweat. Your feet make little noise as they kiss the ground under the fat moon hanging full in the sky.

You slow as you reach the forest's edge, careful to make your way to the dirt path you know all too well. You’ve spent many a night alone in these woods, wandering and exploring like the little girl you used to be. There’s freedom out here in the dark. There’s no one to watch you spin under the stars, and hum quietly to yourself as you walk along.

Normally you’d have turned around by now but you’re full of pent of energy and eager to push the boundaries and explore further than you ever have before. You’re not sure of exactly where you are, but also unconcerned. It’s as you take a fork to the left, deeper into the forest that you sense you are no longer alone.

Stopping for a moment you listen to the sounds of the night, but all the peeping insects and squeaking bats have gone silent. In truth, it’s the silence that sends a chill up your spine. It’s dark out, but the moon is full and you’re eyes have adjusted enough to inspect your surroundings.

Listening carefully, you take a few more steps, spying something moving out of the corner of your eye. Drawing in a pregnant breath you freeze and slowly turn, only to find a sight that nearly stops your heart.

Fifty paces into the woods there’s a massive white wolf standing in the brush. You swear its eyes are glowing yellow, fixed on you where you stand.

Every story you’ve ever heard of the strange wolves of Lebanon floods back to you. You and the beast watch each other in the silent forest.

Slowly you take a step and the wolf moves in tandem, shoulders rolling as it matches your stride. You take, one, two, three more steps down the path and the wolf moves alongside, flanking you.

You should be afraid, you're not sure what’s wrong with you but find yourself sure that the creature has no intention to harm you. When you stop walking the wolf stops on cue.

“Hello,” you call out softly. “You won’t hurt me, will you?” The beast cocks it’s head at you as if drawn to your voice. “Can’t you sleep either? Why don’t we walk together for a while.”

The white wolf takes a dozen steps toward you, sniffing the air.

You continue walking, watching this giant dog follow at your pace.

“You are quite beautiful,” you offer, feeling rather silly at the prospect of speaking to an animal, but that doesn’t stop you. Your father always spoke sweetly to his horses and in return they were loyal steeds. This can’t be much different. Perhaps some of the wild tales are rooted in truth. “Can I tell you a secret,” you angle your path closer to the side of the road and the wolf gets closer as well. “It would be nice to have a friend. Most of the time I am rather lonely and it looks as if you are alone too. Perhaps we could be friends. I often walk at night, you could join me if you like.”

You wander on for the better part of an hour babbling on about your life. The beast stays with you, gradually getting closer and closer until it takes a final step onto the path next to you, walking barely an arm's length away.

Perhaps this kingdom holds magic. You’ve always believed in a subtle world beyond what you can see, the veil that holds the dead and the enlightened. This isn’t so far removed, it seems in this place the wolves are indeed part of something truly mystical.

“Do you not have a pack?” you ask, wandering along. “I am married but my husband does not like me very much. He prefers the company of his brother and other women I suspect. I came here to marry him so I don’t know anyone, you see. I am strictly decorative. A pretty thing to be seen and not heard. Sometimes I fear I will never be heard again.”

With realizing how close the beast has gotten, the wolf brushes your hand, his soft fur cold in the night air.

Crack.  

The sound of a branch breaking makes you jump and the wolf instantly leaps into the woods. You turn around on the path, alone and suddenly frightened as you watch the silhouette of man appear.

“What do we have here?” His voice floats out into the night as he approaches.

“Who are you, good sir?” you ask, forcing an even voice despite quaking nerves.

“Who are you young one, to be alone in the woods in the middle of the night.”

“You should not come any closer!” You warn, inching backward.

He whistles and after a moment another man appears. Two large men who are getting closer by the second.

“A woman just wandering around in the night in Lebanon?” the new man snorts. “Maybe it’s a gift for us, a whore ready to do her duty.”

“I beg your pardon, sir.” You square off your shoulders. “I am aware that don’t know me, so I will let your comment pass, but you are speaking to a queen.”

“A queen?” The first man chortles. “Oh my. I’m honored.” He mines a bow.

“So am I.” The second man adds.

They separate, each getting into position to grab you and you prepare to run, heart thumping faster and faster.

It’s as the first man lunges for you that the white wolf springs from the forest, pouncing on one of the men and taking him to the ground. The night becomes a mix of snarls and screams as you take off like an arrow, bare feet pounding the dirt.

You run faster than you have in your entire life, sprinting back the way you came. You run and run until you can’t breathe and are to forced to stop and recover, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

You’re lost. For a moment you fall to your knees, sitting in the dirt and crying to yourself. But it doesn’t take long to pull yourself back together, looking at the stars to find your way home. Your father taught you many things and celestial navigation was one of them.

It takes you hours to make your way home, the sun will be rising soon and you’re lucky to have snuck back through the village. It’s as you pass the stables that you come upon chaos, knights shouting for reinforcements.

You forgot all stealth and approach the first man you see.

“What is happening?” You ask grabbing the arm of a giant man clad in battle armor.

“The King was attacked and The Queen is missing. We’re forming a search party.”

Your mind swirls. What a wretched night, first you were assaulted in the woods and now Sam has been attacked as well.

“Is he alive?” you ask, confusion suddenly bleeding into a panic. The knight pulls away, annoyance brimming. “Answer me! Is Sam alive?”

In truth, it’s referring to The King as Sam that draws the attention of every person in the castle’s keep. They all fall silent turning to find their queen, covered in dirt with a torn dress.

“Forgive me.” The knight falls to his knee. “I did not mean to speak to you in such a way m’lady.”

Propriety is the least of your concern as you step forward. “I couldn’t care less about how you’re speaking to me. What happened to The King? Take me to him now.”

“My Lady.” Philip is beside you, gently taking your elbow. “Come with me.”

-

*Chapters 7-25 (26 posting tonight) are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

[always5hineee]

Depreciation- Chapter 10: Verdict

Chapter warnings: Possible themes

Word count: 1817

-----

       He looked almost exactly the same as before he had been attacked. Stepping into the courtroom at the direction of the prosecution, his face was emotionless and his eyes never left the stand. He was wearing a dark suit, making it impossible to see his scars. His hair was neatly styled and his skin was clear and clean. How was he alive? According to the other members, he had been stabbed through the heart as well as all of his limbs, almost certainly bleeding out. He looked as if he had just been sitting alone in a room until the trial.

       It was only as he began to step forward that she realized the lawyer in her ear was trying to talk to her.

       "Stop staring at him, woman! You need to object!"

       "W-What?" She muttered.

       "OBJECT-"

       "Objection!" She shouted, not sure what they were doing, but following his lead.

       "On what grounds?" The judge asked.

       A-as WayV's defendant, I am also in charge of Lucas. We have had no time to go over the details of the case and the plan for-"

       "With all due respect, your honor," The other lawyer sneered. "It sounds like she's trying to avoid having a witness testify before she's had a chance to get to them."

       "It's not like that!"

       "If that's the case, you should have no objections." The judge looked to her, raising their eyebrows expectantly. She had no choice- she revoked her objection and let the questioning commence. He stepped up to the stand, still not looking at her. The prosecution began asking relentless questions about their living situation.

       "Are you and Y/N close?"

       "...I'd say so? She's in the house a lot."

       "A lot.. what do you mean by that? Is she in residence?" He was starting to stumble. He didn't know what he was supposed to say, rambling about random times they had hung out.        

       "So you agree that Y/N has been living with you for a considerable amount of time."

       "...Yes, that's accurate."

       "And you're involved?"

       "I'm not... I'm not sure I understand your question, I-" At this point, the lawyer was beginning to get fed up with his wandering, evasive answers, and it was clear the jury was becoming suspicious as well.

       "Are you or are you not in love with Y/N?" She practically yelled, setting her hand down firmly on the prosecution's table, staring at him. His mouth opened slightly, eyes wide as he glanced over to the group, to her. "Don't look at her! Look at me!" The lawyer demanded. "Answer the question!" Y/N's heart dropped as she realized this was it. He had no idea what they were trying to pull, had no way of figuring out their cover story. There wasn't a reason she could think of for him to guess that this was plausible. If she had to guess, he would think that it was a trap, and that answering yes would contradict an earlier statement. They were done for, and he didn't even know it. It was completely-

       "Yes." He said, looking the lawyer in the eyes as he swallowed nervously. "I love her more than anything else in the world." Everyone's faces shifted as he said this, the courtroom falling into a deadly hush. Y/N was ecstatic- she wasn't sure how, but he had figured it out! The other lawyer, however, was furious. There was no way he got in contact with the rest of the group. How had he done it? Unless they had some micro signal, or... no, it was impossible. Y/N took her chance.

       "Your honor, this all seems irrelevant to the case. It's clear Lucas's account aligns with ours regarding our relationship, my friendship with Kun, the attack of his persons by my ex-boyfriend, and he was unconscious for everything after-" The lawyer's face dropped. She saw what Y/N was doing. By dropping those subtle clues as to the rest of the story, Y/N was making it a walk in the park for Lucas to figure out what was going on and adjust the remainder of his testimony.

       "Objection! She's colluding with the witness!" The lady screamed.

       "What grounds do you have for that accusation?" The judge asked, raising their eyebrows.

       "I- Didn't you just- she went and told him the- It's just that-"

       "Overruled, please don't disrupt the flow of the trial. If you would like to continue your interrogation, please do so." Grinding her teeth and shooting Y/N a death glare, she said,

       "No further questions." She knew they were guilty. Everything about their little setup screamed it, even the way they were participating in the trial. She knew that WayV was a human trafficking ring. But how to prove it? She could find no records, no one willing to give them up. The witnesses she had gathered had been practically useless. She was becoming less and less certain of her victory.

       "Well, we've done this a bit out of order, so Y/N has basically given her defense. Do you have anything to add in regards to refuting the witness testimonies?" She waited for the lawyer in her earpiece to confirm, then said,

       "Our bases are covered in our closing statements. We'd like to move on to evidence, if that's alright. As we're aware, the prosecution does intend to present material evidence against my clients." The other lawyer was still fuming as the judge asked her to step forward with the evidence. She muttered something, but no one could tell what it was.

       "Could you please speak up?" Clenching her fists, the other woman said louder,

       "It has come to our attention that the evidence may be detrimental to the case and we would like to motion to revoke our request for floor time in regards to-"

       "It's been registered and you put it forth as an intended point. Please present." The woman had expected as much. She couldn't just change the case at the last minute. Still, she had been grasping at straws. Pulling out a plastic evidence bag, she held it up.

       "These were found in the household during an invasion under search warrant. We believed that they may have belonged to a victim." It was a rather... private piece of women's clothing.

       "Where in the household were they recovered from?"

       "Hendery's bedroom." This caught their attention. One of many things could happen in this moment- they somehow explained how the bra had ended up in a different part of the house, or it turned out to really be that of a victim's. Raising her hand and coughing, Y/N tried to recover as she looked at it.

       "Your honor, that belongs to me." The judge looked between the two as if checking to see if the size matched. Y/N knew that it did, because it really was hers. It wasn't one of the ones that they'd provided her, either, it was the one she'd been wearing at the concert. The question was... how did Hendery even get it? She didn't have time to ponder that now, though, she had to figure out how to explain-

       "With all due respect, your honor," Lucas cut in for her. What was his plan with this? Come up with some elaborate excuse to explain this, or accuse her of cheating? "Hendery's bed is, uh... nicer, if you get what I'm saying."

       "Ugh! That's disgusting!" Hendery shouted dramatically. "Are you serious?!" It was the first time he'd spoken since he was forced to give his testimony, and Y/N certainly wasn't expecting him to actively help in their little charade.

       "It's not my fault that you're out so often!" Lucas pretended to object, shrugging.

       "You make me sick-"

       "Order in the court!" The judge was forced to demand again. "Does anyone have any further helpful statements in regards to this?" No one spoke up, thankfully allowing them to move on from that... enlightening piece of evidence. They hadn't actually done anything, so Y/N didn't know why she was so embarrassed. She still also didn't know why the article of clothing was in Hendery's room to begin with.

       "In that case, would the attorneys like to make their closing statements?" The prosecution spoke first. She gave some roundabout, wandering statement about looking at the real energy of the matter and not to let the one poor witness get in the way of looking at what really happened. Eventually, she came to a close, sitting down, looking much less smug than she had at the start. Y/N stood up to give her summary.

       "As you can see, fellow citizens, the members of WayV had nothing to do with these human trafficking cases, and it was likely that they were isolated coincidences at best. They have alibis set in stone and witness testimony to back their innocence. Why would such famous, powerful, well-liked young men jeopardize everything they have worked for just to gain a little more cash off the top? They are more than well off, and they have no motive. These accusations are the result of a misunderstanding blown out of proportion."

       "The jury is dismissed to discuss." As the members of the jury filed out into a side room, Y/N finally felt like she could breathe. Looking over at Kun, he gave her a proud smile, something she'd never seen on him before. It lifted her heart, making her a little less nervous. She didn't want to say anything, to ruin the charade they had put up, but she couldn't wait to get back home... Well, to the base. Was that her home, now?

       The jury came back out in only ten short minutes. The vote was unanimous. The judge spoke once the crowd silenced. “Members of the jury, have you reached a verdict?” The jury spokesman stood and said:

       “Yes, your Honor, we have.”

       “Members of the Jury, on the Case of WayV, what you say?” The Jury Spokesman cleared his throat before pronouncing,

       “Your Honor, the members of this Jury find the defendants not guilty of the charges leveraged against them."  The room broke out into a loud buzz, causing the judge to bang the gavel a few more times. For the third time that case, order was demanded.

       "In the cases of Qian Kun, Dong Si Cheng, Liu Yangyang, Xiao Dejun, Wong Yuk-Hei, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, and Wong Kun-Hang, I find them Not Guilty. This court is adjourned." The bailiff directed all to rise as the judge left the stand, exiting the courtroom. Once they were gone, the prosecution glared angrily at Y/N's back, but she couldn't care less. Breathing out, tears coming to her eyes, she ran over to Lucas, wrapping her arms around him as he put his chin on top of her head. It was over.

Go to Chapter 11

[cherryonigiri]

HQSS III GIFT!

Title: I’ll Make You a Deal Pairing: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou + implied Kenma Kozume/Kuroo Tetsurou Word count: 1704 Rating: Teen and Up Potential Trigger Warnings: sexual innuendo (Kuroo makes one joke)

@shibayvki​ here’s my gift for your @haikyuusecretsanta​! Merry Chirstmas and Happy Holidays! 

AO3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963742

“Welcome back Kuroo,” Akaashi calls, pulling another tray of cookies from the oven. Placing the tray on rack he leaves the cookies to cool as he turns to greet Kuroo.

The black-haired man was in the process of taming his bedhead, the black strands splaying everywhere. Akaashi snickers to himself---he’d missed Kuroo, even though he’d probably never admit that out loud. “Hey, Akaashi. How’s the place been without me?” Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows, golden eyes gleaming with renewed energy.

“Oh, you know, not too bad. I just had my best baker ditch me for a week to go on a last-minute trip to Hakone.” Akaashi turns to check on his batch of muffins before adding, “So, it’s been just the tiniest bit busier.” They looked a little more done than he liked, perhaps he’d take them out of the oven early.

“The honeymoon was great by the way!” Kuroo shouts from the lockers. Akaashi rolls his eyes before opening the oven. The blast of warmth wafts through the air, the scents of melted butter and blueberry mixing with the rest of the delicious aromas floating around the bakery. Emerging from the locker room, Kuroo dons an apron over his white attire. “I’m ready to go boss. Your lead baker, refreshed from his vacation, enlightened by marriage, and ready to please the people.”

Akaashi chuckles at Kuroo’s dramatic pose. “Alright, oh enlightened one, how about you bless me with some of your danishes and croissants,” raising an eyebrow as he pointed towards the seating area, “Before opening time?”

“First day back and you’re already putting me back to work. Sheesh Akaashi, you really are a slave driver.” Kuroo turns towards his counter, flouring the surface before heading to the fridge to find the pastry dough Akaashi had made the night before.

“You’ve always been better with pastries than I have,” Akaashi reminds Kuroo. “God, I swear I almost just took them off the menu because they were turning out all kinds of weird without you here.”

“Mhm.” Kuroo mumbles in response, already focused on rolling the dough into the buttered layers Akaashi knows will turn into golden and fluffy pastry under Kuroo’s talented hand.

Akaashi taps Kuroo on the back. “Hey, congratulations. Really. I’m so happy for you and Kenma.” Before he can turn back to his own work, Kuroo grabs his wrist.

“See, that’s the thing. You call my husband,” Kuroo says while grinning widely, “by his first name because you two have been friends since childhood. Now that I’m married to Kenma, shouldn’t you also call me by my first name? You know, what’s Kenma’s is mine, including being on a first-name basis with you.”

“Kuroo I swear--”

“And in the spirit of helping change the habit, I will only--”

“--be responding to ‘Testurou.’ Yes,” Akaashi sighs in exasperation. “Kenma warned me about it when you two got back last night. I was just seeing how long I could push it before you actually insisted on this ridiculous idea.”

“Oh betrayed, by the man I just married! How can I ever recover?”

“Could you please focus on baking your damn pastries Ku--Tetsurou?”

“Of course, Keiji.”

“You are a conniving bastard Tetsurou, I hope you are aware of that.” Kuroo laughs at that, before returning to his pastry.

Things only really went south once the bakery opened. Between stuttering over Kuroo’s (No, Testurou’s, he reminds himself) first name and coming in an hour early instead of two to bake in Kuroo’s place, he was flustered. It didn’t help that Tetsurou’s brief vacation had allowed Akaashi to forget about his constant snarking, but now that the lanky baker was back, he’d have to get used to it again.

“So, Keiji,” Keiji pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that at some point it won’t feel weird to call his employee by first name. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nothing much, other than my failure to re-create half of the pastries we sell.”

“C’mon Keiji, you may be better at dessert stuff, but you’re way better than a lot of other pastry chefs out there. I saw how you do pastry in school, and trust me, student you could outclass half of the other bakers on this street.”

“Alright, my perfectionist self was not satisfied because my amazing pastry lead was off on his honeymoon. Other than that, it’s been a perfectly normal--”

“AKAAAAASHI!” The two bakers hear the short before they hear the auditory carnage of the door being pushed through their windchimes to slam against the wall.

“Crap. I forgot,” the green-eyed man hissed as he ran for the front of shop. “Bokuto-san! I’m over here!”

Kuroo peeks out from the back, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person who might owe them a new set of windchimes, and potentially a new door. A white-haired man approaches the counter. “Bokuto-san, what have I said about the door?”

“Sorry ‘Kaashi,” mystery man suddenly looks sheepish, “I missed our coffee dates. I’m not mad or anything, I mean I get it, you were missing your head baker, it’s like if I was missing one of my baristas, but I thought we said we’d meet up today?”

“No, it’s my bad. I guess I got so used to coming straight to work that I didn’t stop by your place today.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine ‘Kaashi. I even got you your favorite.” Kuroo eyes this ‘Bokuto -san’ with interest as he raises up a carrier. “An iced black coffee with agave.”

“Why don’t I take a half-hour off. We can just sit in the corner here and have our date Bokuto-san.” Akaashi gestures to the table in the corner, “I’ll be right back with some pastries.”

The white-haired man suddenly bursts into a megawatt smile. “Thanks ‘Kaashi!” he says, pressing a quick kiss on Akaashi’s cheek and zooming away towards the back corner table.

Turning around, Akaashi gestures for Kuroo to come out of his hiding spot.

“Is that? Are you two? How?” Kuroo grabs Akaashi by the shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

“I mean, it only became serious a few weeks agao. We took things slow--”

“Keiji, as your head baker and best-friend-in-law I am incredibly hurt that I did not know you had found yourself a man--”

“A man that is waiting for me to bring him our breakfast, now if you’ll excuse me Kuroo. I’ll be back in about half an hour, I’m sure you can handle things until then.”

“Oh hush, there’s no one coming in for a while, now that opening rush is over. I think I’ll go say hello to your boyfriend.”

Akaashi glares at Kuroo, a slight blush tinging his cheeks. “Fine, you can meet him, but I expect you to be manning the counter and checking stock after five minutes.”

“You got it Keiji,” Kuroo replies, shooting finger guns at his flustered boss.

Keiji reaches into the display case and snags two of the blueberry muffins he baked from his batch in the morning. Slipping them onto a plate, he turns to leave the counter but is stopped by Kuroo.

“Woah, woah. Aren’t you going to put that in the register? Pay for the goods?” Kuroo knows Akaashi is serious about not giving out freebies until closing. Heck, half the time the man charges himself if he snags a cookie between rushes.

“Nope,” Akaashi replied while walking towards Bokuto. “He gets them for free, on the house.”  

“Bokuto-san, this is Kuroo Tetsurou, my head baker. He wanted to…meet you. Tetsurou, please…just don’t be an idiot,” Akaashi introduces the two, sits down and prays that the two will get along without embarrassing him.

“So, how did you and my boss meet?” Kuroo asks. “And what on earth did you do to him? I’ve never seen him give out free goods, even to me, his head baker and pastry savior. If I snag a piece of bread he’ll take it out of my paycheck.”

“Oh, we have a deal!” Bokuto replies, handing Akaashi his coffee.

“Ohohoho, what kind of deal? Does it involve anything…interesting?” Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh it’s nothing like that,” Bokuto replies. “’Kaashi and I are taking it slow. I just bring him free coffee, so he gives me free baked goods and pastries.”

“You forgot the part where you chased me down the street screaming about free coffee when you tried to ask me out,” Akaashi teases.

Kuroo looks at Bokuto confused. “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I own the coffee shop down the block, Fukurodani. ‘Kaashi had been coming around for coffee for a while and I thought I might try to bribe him into a first date with free coffee.”

“Which I thought was an unfair trade so I brought some of our pastries to that date,” Akaashi adds. “I’ve been getting free coffee from Bokuto-san ever since.”

Kuroo is silent, staring at the couple. “’Kaashi, is he okay?” leans in to whisper, looking at the baker with concern.

“Keiji, what about Lacy? What did you do with her?” Kuroo asks, looking at Akaashi with pleading eyes.

“She’s still sitting in my kitchen, pristine as the first day I put her there.”

“So you mean…you mean. You haven’t used her? AT ALL??” Kuroo wails. “Keiji, how could you? This is Lacy we’re talking about!”

“Yes, but Bokuto-san actually knows how to make coffee. And I find his coffee much better than Lacy’s.”

“Why? How could you do this to me?” Kuroo flails his arms before storming into the back.

“’Kaashi?” Bokuto says, eyes flickering between Akaashi and Kuroo. “Who’s Lacy?”

“Lacy? Oh, that’s the ridiculous name Kuroo came up for the Keurig he bought me a few months ago. The guy invested a lot in that present, trying to get my ‘blessing’ to marry Kenma.”

“Oh, your best friend from high school?”

“Yup. Just…ignore Tetsurou for now. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“I heard that Keiji!” came a shout from the kitchen. “And I feel very betrayed right now!”

“Like I said Bokuto-san, just ignore him. Besides,” Akaashi smiles, “we have some coffee and pastry dates to catch up on.”

[dreamchangelive]

Endearing

                                                      Chapter I

It could not be more difficult than this. He once thought that waking up in an unknown world was the most terrifying and hardest thing he had lived. Now he knew with the certainty that only death gives him again, that living in a world without him, it would never regain its meaning. The world has returned and his world has vanished. He needed to move on. He needed to do what he exceedingly knew best, to be strong and help the world. When the morning comes, he will be there for all of them, once more.

                                                             Don't do anything stupid until I come back.

                           How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you.

Bruce had set everything so he could return the stones. They discussed it earlier that morning and even with not all of them in agreement, clearly this was the best thing to do. He was going to return the infinity stones, and he will go alone. Maybe because he was not there or maybe because it had to be done fast, planning how and which of the stones should be first returned was not much take into account. He only knew he had to place each of them in its right place as soon as possible.The journey had begun.

                                                    — — — — —

The Pym particles were in front of him. The other Steve was leaving the corridor where he will meet him. And there was that thought that invaded his brain as liquor, well, at least as he could remember before the serum. He was in Hank Pym lab again looking at the particles, and thinking what taking more of them could mean, what he could do, the possibilities… He had enough of them for all this journey, but if he could take a few more, maybe he could go to a moment where... No! Steve scolded himself. He remembered discussing during the brainstorming in the compound that they should not mess with time, and even he told him. So, he could not be selfish, and about all, irresponsible with an entire world to whom he claimed was going to protect.

However, no one had to know, he said to himself fighting against his own instinct. If he did this, he could just go and see him for a last time, and would be very careful. Also, he already returned the stones. The mission was accomplished, then maybe this could be an opportunity, just one more time. It would not be an encounter, of course; it could be from a distance. A proper goodbye, the closure he needed this time. Steve was trying to convince himself in the absurdity of the situation. 

Then, he took them. For the first time in his life, he would do this for him, not the world. Since he woke up from the ice and even before, he had only dedicated his life to others and has never thought of himself for once. This was insane there was no doubt, but he needed to see him, just one last time.

                                                    — — — — —

Steve arrived in the area near the house. It was very easy to get there because he remembered in detail the road that lead to his house. The idea was to be away from the house, but stay close enough in the neighborhood. He could recognize the surveillance cameras on the streets, so he would have to try to pass as unnoticed as he could. How he would do that seemed impossible now, but the thought that came into his mind about returning, last hardly a second. 

In this position he was not near any of those cameras, he said to himself. Still, the real questions took place in his head now. How could he know that he was there? What if he went on a trip? And the most important one, How would he see him? At least he had thought about the day, he assured himself. It had to be that day, that day when they say goodbye to each other with a disguised melancholy that he now recognized.

         ...and you're gonna miss me. There's gonna be a lot of manful tears...

He did, so much, and he tried his best to feel so little, but he did. Nevertheless, that was not the point. The truth was that for being a strategist, war battle planner captain, this was starting to become the worst of his ideas. Because really, What would he do here? Just wait around? He knew he was being carried away by the impulses, his emotions, that for so many years were guarded and tamed, now seemed to be the owners of his actions. Definitely, a good part of his neurons were lost with the lighting of Thor hammer for sure. 

After a few minutes of waiting, the remorse for what he was doing could do more than him. He needed to get out of there, at least plan this better.

He went away.

                                                      — — — — —

«Friday, how are you dear? Tell me something that can enlighten this day, I really need good news to start working.» Tony was entering his lab with a cup of coffee in his hands. He was wondering about that idea around his head. Without a doubt, he needed to improve those bracelets, he thought. Although they worked out fine at that moment when Loki sent him flying out the tower, there should be a way to have those microchips always with him (even if that implied what he was actually thinking, and what would Pepper will do to him if she ever found out). 

«Sir, I am afraid I do not have the best of news today.» Friday interrupted his line of thoughts.

 «Please do not tell me there is some of my grandchildren still messing around? Vision told us he destroyed Ultron last robot» Tony asked. 

«No Sir, there is no notification of incidents involving any of the robots, but there is an archive of yesterday records of cameras around the neighborhood that you should see»

«Well let me say that is a relief...um...OK bring it up» said Tony without paying too much attention the screen, and focusing on the bracelets on his desk. On the record playing, it could be seen from a long distance a figure walking from side to side.

«Who am I looking at Friday? I could feel offended if you think my kind of fun for starting the day would be seeing the neighbors walking around the park» Tony said joking with the A.I.

«I am afraid it is not any of your neighbors Sir. It seems to be Steve Rogers, Sir»

«What did you say?» Tony said approaching the screen to see in more detail.

«I said...»

«No, I heard you the first time; amplify the image» Tony asked.

After seeing the video a few times, Tony should not say that he was perplexed by what he was looking at, but despite everything they had been through, seeing an odd «Steve Rogers» walking around his neighborhood made him feel extremely uncomfortable. What was he looking at? Who or what was this person, who looks like Rogers, but also seems...older? How could that be possible? Friday confirmed him Rogers was on the compound all day yesterday, and even right now he was doing some kind of training with the team, so that could not be him. Loki maybe? He vaguely remembered seeing Loki imitating Captain that time in the tower, but why come to this place? And why only to be walking around? Honestly, this was not the news he wanted for starting the day.

                                                                                                  — — — — — 

This was not a better plan. He would stay in the park nearby again, and then he would just wait until he sees him, at least for a second, and then he would be gone. God, what was he saying! He considered himself an optimistic, persevering, maybe even a stubborn person when trying to achieve what he wanted, but this was the craziest thing he had ever done, and now he did not know how to stop. Way to go Steve, way to go, he told himself. Talking about not messing with the future.

He was in a location where he could see the house. Always with a prudent distance it would be safe, he insisted in reassuring himself. It was early in the morning, and he saw Happy coming out the house, and that give him some hope Maybe he was still there, he wanted to believe. Suddenly, there it was that mechanic sound he was so used to hearing…

«I don't recall sending an invitation to Asgard for you to visit my neighborhood.»

Steve closed his eyes for a moment. Hearing his voice, alive, one more time was enough, was all he could have asked. Then the thought that also interrupted his mind about him dying right there, at the hands of the man he profoundly loved, was not such a terrible idea either.  He did what he thought was best, very, very slowly started to turn around with his hands up. When he turned completely, he could see the iron suit in front of him.

«Come on Rock of Ages, are you going to tell me why you are here?»

Steve knew he had to control his extremely fast beating heart, and the way he was trying to breath did not help in showing a peaceful and serene state. He also knew he would know. He must have scanned him already, so he tried to recover and replied with what he thought was a firm but also polite tone.

«I am not who you think» replied Steve trying to sound calm.

Sure it was obvious he would believe Steve was Loki. It was the most reasonable assessment, Steve thought. However, the crossroad was what to say and do now? He needed to think fast.

«That part can be proved» And Tony sent a blast over Steve.

Steve moved so fast that one could say he already knew he was going to be hit. He tried to hide behind a bench knowing the preposterous of doing that.

«You know, your reflexes are strangely as good as the old man's, I can give you that»

«Please, I can explain» said Steve trying to put his arms up again.

«I am really curious to hear an explanation, but my real dilemma is that I am not 100% sure if you have to be alive to tell it»

Steve could tell he was not talking seriously, but he needed to say something believable, and reasonable, that could convince him without at least not receiving a few more blasts. 

«Please...» And that was the last word he could say before being hit. Steve did not see where it came from this time. He only felt how his chest burned and hurt from the impact. He felt out of breath and thought for a moment that he was dreaming, because that mechanic sound was near him now, and from the distance the voice could be heard, his voice, could be heard without the suit. He wanted to call him; he wanted to say his name…

                          ...you mess with time, it tends to mess back...

                                                                                              — — — — — 

Although it sounded wrong, alright, he was just saying it to himself without anyone around, congratulates himself for having built that cell in his lab, now did not seem so paranoid or strange, since a "Steve Rogers / Loki" lays unconscious in it. He knew that the strength of that new weapon in his suit was quite powerful, but the true Captain could have handled it, perhaps he would have fallen, but lose consciousness? That is the piece of a puzzle that had no form for now.

«Friday, while the sleeping beauty is still in dreamland let's run some few test I am sending you right now»

«Yes Sir, do you want me to keep him sedated?»

«That it's intriguing, isn't it? He seems to be resting, like he needed that, but yes, keep him there until you have everything» Tony replied.

«Of course, Sir, do you want me to inform someone in the compound?»

«Mm, no. Let's keep this between us for now. I need to go with Pepper but call me as soon as he wakes up».

«I will inform you Sir».

«Thanks dear» And Tony locked the door.

                                                   — — — — —

Steve was starting to wake up. He felt dazed, but oddly enough his body seemed to have rested. He was lying in a bed he could not recognize and saw those white walls that he also didn't remember seeing before. Suddenly, he realized that he did not remember anything of what had happened or where he was. He felt bewildered, but at the same time the images came back to hit him with a new flow of emotions… the park, the iron suit, the blast... he was trying to say that he lo...

«Why are you here?» His voice once more put Steve´s heart on a desperate running. He tried to get up but still felt dizzy and only managed to sit down. The fatigue of days without rest was ravaging him right now. He could not look up from the floor, he vaguely was dealing with waking up, he could not see him yet. 

«Why are you here?» he repeated again.

Steve couldn't speak, he felt like his words get lost in his head when he heard the sound of his voice.

«OK, you must feel confused now, but in a few minutes, you will have to answer some of my questions. There are water and something to eat too.»

Steve looked around avoiding seeing him, and take into notice that he was in a cell. There was a counter with food and water, some furniture, but indeed, he seemed to be confined. He got up as best as he could and went to the counter to pour himself a glass of water. He tried not to spill it while his hands were shaking. He then realized he was thirsty and hungry, if he thought about it, he could not remember the last meal he had. His words echoed in his head again to bring him back to reality, why are you here? A question with an answer he wasn't knowing at that moment either. 

«I am not Loki» was all he could say while putting the glass over the counter.

«I know.»

                                                      — — — — —

[catsafarithewriter]

"You trusted me when no one else would, so now I will always return the favor" or however the prompt is written. Feel free to edit to fit, but make it Super Villain AU. Or, Film Noir Detective Baron AU. Wuv u

A/N: One Super Villain AU coming up! I know I usually default to Haru & Baron, but I couldn’t get this line to work in the AU yet (they don’t know each other well enough yet for this line to have any pathos) so I detoured off with a Toto-centric ficlet. Enjoy! 

(And wuv u too, Shelbs)

For all the other lovely prompts I received, I shall be working on them over the next week, and you should see them appearing once they’re done. But, for now, enjoy this ficlet!

Toto Morrigan, doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone, liked to consider himself a fine, upstanding member of society, except that fine, upstanding members of society didn’t usually cavort with super villains. 

Super was perhaps a bit rich though, even if Baron did have super agility and strength and other super skills that Toto had never asked about. Toto had known Baron long enough to remember the cape phase, and it was difficult to take anyone seriously after spending several afternoons untangling them from their cape. 

Most fine, upstanding members of society probably didn’t keep a freeze-ray in their top right kitchen cupboard either, but there were certain precautions needed when one was the go-to doctor of the city’s most-wanted super villain. 

As the sound of fine china clinking echoed along Toto’s otherwise silent house, the doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone gently removed the freeze-ray from the cupboard. It looked a lot like a hairdryer - possibly because that’s what it had started life as - and might have gone entirely without comment if it hadn’t been hiding away in a kitchen cabinet. He switched the safety off and stalked through into the lounge. 

When he saw the identity of the uninvited guest, the freeze-ray lowered, but not by much. 

“Humbert,” he greeted. 

The man seated in Toto’s favourite armchair looked like the type of person who would run a bookshop, or perhaps an artisan cafe. Since Humbert did actually run a tea shop, Toto had never quite been convinced that Humbert didn’t dress deliberately with such a fashion in mind. It was a casual outfit, comfy and non-threatening, with a woollen cardigan and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

Humbert smiled, and Toto had to make an active effort to remember that the super villain had just broken into his house. 

“Toto. My dear friend.”

“It’s Thursday,” Toto said. 

“Indeed it is.”

“Thursdays are my day off.”

“Well then, it’s just as well I’m just dropping by then, isn’t it?”

Toto scowled, but he could already feel the irritation draining away. He sighed and lowered the ray. “What are you doing here, Humbert?”

“Can’t a super villain make sure his favourite minion is recovering well after a near-death experience without suspicion?”

“Not a minion,” Toto amended, although the objection was more out of habit than anything else. “And, no, you can’t. Not without warning, and certainly not by letting yourself in.”

Humbert motioned to the table before him. “I made you tea.”

“With my best china set,” Toto noted, doing his best to sound disapproving. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the reluctant smile from rising to his lips though. He closed his eyes, partly to look pointedly frustrated, but mostly because it was easier to not be charmed if he wasn’t making direct eye contact, and sat down in his second-favourite seat. It sagged in the middle. “Humbert, you cannot just break into my house like this–”

“Do you see anything broken?” Humbert asked. 

“My trust.”

“You wound me.” 

“What if anyone had seen you?” Toto persisted. “How am I going to explain you picking the lock on my front door?”

“Do you really think I need to pick the lock anymore?”

“What other way would you–?” Toto sighed. “How long have you had a copy of my key?”

“Since you asked me to housesit your plants.” 

“That was–” Toto groaned. “Really? Have you been sneaking into my house for the past two years?”

There was a pause from Humbert. “I may owe you some tea and milk.” 

“You have your own house! With tea and milk! Why…?”

“Villain?” Humbert offered. He passed across a cup, which Toto reluctantly took. Admittedly, Humbert knew how to make a damn good cup of tea. 

“Don’t make me regret patching you up all these years,” Toto muttered, but it was mostly into the cup. He eyed the super villain. Humbert did indeed look unharmed, so he probably wasn’t here to request a new scar being sewn up or bandages applied. Toto lowered the tea. “So if you’re really not here on… business,” he eventually settled on, “then what are you doing here?”

“You were pretty seriously injured after the Scourge incident last month.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Toto said. “There were a dozen other people in that tram carriage. It just happened to be someone you knew who got shot.” Toto gave Humbert a meaningful look. “You’re not doing your villain reputation much good by worrying over civilians.” 

“Maybe not, but I can still worry over a friend.” 

“Hmm.” Toto took another sip. “No, there’s something else,” he decided. “Something you’re not telling me.” 

Humbert gave a light chuckle. “You know me far too well, Toto.” 

“Far better than any law-abiding doctor should,” Toto agreed. “So, what is it? What dark and terrible secret have you come to burden on me now?”

“When have I ever burdened you with a dark and terrible secret?”

“I could certainly do without being an accessory to super villainy.” 

“Ah, but you would miss me.” 

Toto snorted and deliberately avoided making eye contact. He mumbled something that might have been confirmation into his tea. “Just tell me, Humbert,” he eventually managed. “What have you done?”

“Such little trust, to have assumed I have done anything,” Humbert teased, but even as Toto watched, Humbert’s eyes turned serious. 

Humbert had strange eyes. Glittering, almost feline eyes, green in some lights and golden in others. Toto had always wondered if that was some side effect of his super powers, but had never quite steered the conversation in a direction where he could ask. He also didn’t want to admit just yet that his own eyes were drawn to Humbert’s at an alarming rate. 

“I don’t suppose you remember that week you took off, back in September?” Humbert asked slowly. 

“Unsurprisingly, I do remember my holiday to Spain,” Toto confirmed. “Would have been a rather disappointing holiday otherwise. Why?” His eyes narrowed as suspicion set in. “You said you were going to keep a low profile while I was gone.”

Humbert wet his lips as he considered his next confession. “I may… have had a building fall on top of me.” 

“Goddammit, Humbert!”

“My mistake, admittedly, I should have been quicker–”

“One week, Humbert. One week! I go away for one week and you nearly get yourself killed!”

“–but,” the super villain continued, “as you can see, I was not. So, I think that counts in my favour, something that you should consider when I tell you how I did not die.”

“And how did you not die?” Toto asked flatly. 

“I had help.”

“From…?” Toto prompted. “Tell me it wasn’t Muta. That butterball has the medical prowess of my little finger - less. At least my little finger has seen surgery.”

“It wasn’t Muta.” 

“It better not have been Louise. Your sister will get into so much trouble if she’s found harbouring a super villain under her roof.” 

“It wasn’t Louise,” Humbert confirmed. 

“Not Persephone. Please do not tell me you got the mayor’s wife to stitch you up. She doesn’t even know who you are!” 

“No… but that’s not a bad idea–”

“Humbert!”

“Right. Yes, back to the subject at hand.” He inhaled. “I did not die because I was helped by the president of the Baron Fan Club.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Au contraire, my little minion--”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“--for, behold!” Humbert triumphantly held up something small and round and with tiny shiny lettering surrounding a sparkly top hat.

Toto squinted. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Of course not. That, my dear friend, is official merchandise from the Baron Fan Club, provided by none other than the president of this distinguished society.”

Toto watched as a little of the glitter shedded. “Distinguished, huh?” he echoed, fighting to keep his voice neutral. “And, pray tell,” he said, somewhat mimicking Humbert’s cadence, “how many members does this distinguished society have?”

“Ah, now that would be telling.” 

Toto bit his tongue to keep himself from calling Humbert out. “Oh, I bet it would,” still slipped out, regardless. He overlooked the apparent existence of the questionable fan club long enough to register where Humbert had been going with this. “Hang on, when you said you were helped by the president...” Toto’s eyes narrowed, “does that include your usual penchant for breaking and entering, or did you forgo that particular foible that time around?”

Humbert’s eyes darted guiltily to one side. “She helped, and that is the important part here.”

“Oh god, tell me you did not break into this woman’s house.”

“She took it rather well, all things considering.” And he was considering it now; Toto could see the cold realisation running across those ridiculously curious eyes. “In hindsight,” he eventually admitted, “not one of my better ideas, but I was running out of options.” 

“Would’ve served you right if she’d called the police on you,” Toto muttered. “So, that’s it? You crashed on some poor woman’s sofa for a night and demanded she stitch you back together? I hope you paid to have the blood cleaned off.”

“She refused,” Humbert said in a small voice. “Said something about not wanting to raise questions by hiring out a cleaner, and knowing how to remove blood stains anyway.”

Toto took a long, patient breath and rose to his feet, his cup empty. “Well, as enlightening as this was, this is still my evening off. So unless you have anything else to confess--”

“I saw her again.”

Toto sat. Rather heavier than planned. “What?”

“It was when you were poisoned by Scourge’s gun. She was the scientist in charge of identifying the toxin and developing an antidote.”

If Toto concentrated, he could just about remember the woman. Admittedly, he had been slightly out of it following the poison, and the memory was mostly comprised of white overalls and the smell of apricot. “That was her?”

Somehow, he’d imaged the President of the Baron Fan Club would look... different.

Humbert nodded. 

“And you’re telling me because...?” Toto trailed off, unease quickly replacing bafflement. “She doesn’t know your real identity, does she?”

Humbert waved the worry away. “No. At least, I don’t think so.” He frowned. “I hope not. I’ve never seen her at the tea shop anyway...”

Toto waited for Humbert to get to the point. He usually did, eventually. 

“But, I’ve been considering dropping by her place again... intentionally, some time... when the situation isn’t quite so dire. As one would drop by a friend - like I’m doing now.”

Toto decided against reminding Humbert that he had stolen into this particular house with an illegally copied key. 

“You want to get to know her,” Toto translated. 

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Yes?!”

“I suppose I’m flattered,” Humbert continued, “that she formed a fan club devoted to me, even if she did admit it wasn’t done in all seriousness--”

At least that meant the woman had some common sense, Toto couldn’t help but think. 

“--but what harm could come out of seeing her again, perhaps just drop some flowers off to thank her for her help...?”

Toto leant a hand on Humbert’s arm and tried to ignore the way his thoughts scrambled at the contact. “Humbert,” he said gently, “do you trust me?”

Humbert looked up at him with those eyes that glimmered like gems. “You trusted me when no one else would, so now I will always return the favour.”

Dammit. How was Toto supposed to think when Humbert came out with unnecessarily heartfelt things like that?

“Good,” Toto eventually managed, when he felt he could speak without making a fool of himself. It still took him several more moments to follow it up. He patted Humbert’s arm and consciously leant back. “I mean, thank you.” Words. Form words, dammit. “Then please trust me when I say that is a bad idea. Look, if you were talking about a one-off thank you with this woman, that would be one thing. But you’re not, are you?”

Humbert met his gaze, and Toto saw he was hitting the mark. He continued. 

“Humbert, me, your sister, Muta... we’re all people who were already invested in you or involved with the underworld, but this woman... she isn’t. And she doesn’t have to be. She could still go on to have a relatively crime-free life, even with her rather strange hobbies. But if you keep muscling your way into her life, she’s going to lose that. Is that what you want?”

Humbert was silent for a good long moment, and then he finally nodded. He patted Toto’s arm in the same manner Toto had previously. “That’s why I came to yours. You always have such good advice.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Toto said dryly. 

“I probably should thank her for sewing me back together after the building incident, even so,” Humbert said. “An one-off, of course.” 

“Of course,” Toto echoed. 

“But what?”

“Well, there’s always the classics: chocolates, roses, promises you don’t intend to keep,” Toto rattled off. At Humbert’s disapproving look, he rolled his eyes. “I was kidding. Kidding. Just buy her flowers. She’ll love that.”

“You think?”

Toto stared for a long moment. “Seriously, why are you asking me for ladies’ advice? Go ask your sister, she’s the one with actual experience - and interest.”

“Good point. Thank you, Toto.”

Toto snorted. “Buy me flowers and then we’re even.” He watched as Humbert got to his feet - with feline grace, as always - and, with a defeated sigh, leant back to catch him as he went. “Hey, it might not be a great idea for this woman to get to know the Baron, the super villain, but... there’s no reason why she can’t get to know Humbert, your local tea shop owner.”

Humbert’s eyes lit up. God, he was obvious. “Duly noted. I owe you flowers for this.”

“And tea and milk!” Toto shouted as Humbert vanished out. “Pay me back for all the goddamn tea you’ve been stealing first, you skinflint cretin!” There was the slam of the front door, and Toto collapsed back into his seat. Only the cups left any sign that he hadn’t imagined the whole encounter. 

“He could at least have washed up.”

Toto Morrigan, doctor, birdwatcher, part-time baritone, liked to consider himself a fine, upstanding member of society, except that fine, upstanding members of society didn’t crush on their local super villain. 

Well, usually. 

[greyias]

FIC: By the Guidance of Stars - Chapter 7

Title: By the Guidance of Stars Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T (this chapter) Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Humor Synopsis: The Coalition tries to heal in the aftermath of the Battle of Yavin 4, but not every wound is physical. A series of missing scenes set during the end of Shadow of Revan. Warnings: See Chapter 1. Author’s Note: This is the chapter that I nicknamed “The Jakarro Sutra”. I am so, so sorry.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Crossposted to AO3

The crackle of the campfire provided a counterpoint to the distant buzz and chirp of the jungle nightlife. A soft murmur of conversation had gone up around camp as the coalition settled into what was likely the last evening meal before they all went their separate ways. The mood was decidedly less celebratory than earlier in the day, likely due to the fact that those they were breaking bread with today they might be exchanging blaster fire with the next time they met.

The Coalition’s two leaders were taking their evening meal over at the operations center, in clear view of the whole camp. A token contingency of troopers from both factions ringed the platforms, but Satele and Marr were seated close enough so they could talk in relative privacy. Making a show of solidarity for the troops, but probably discussing the difficult road that would lie ahead, both politically and otherwise.

Lana was not gathered around this campfire, but instead Theron had spotted her in a tent with several people that he could tell had once been with Imperial Intelligence. It had piqued his interest, but he hadn’t thought of an easy way to listen in without being caught and risking fracturing the Coalition’s trust. So he’d grudgingly marched on, and had wound up taking a seat next to Jakarro in the large group that had gathered together.

If nothing else, it was a clear indication that the intelligence community within the Empire would be experiencing a resurgence in the wake of the Revanite Crisis. They were going to need to get someone on the inside, which would be easier if the structure was being rebuilt from the ground up. Just another thing for Theron to add to the laundry list of discussion items with Marcus when he got back to Coruscant.

Apparently the somber mood of their gathering was too much for Doc, who had started to tell a ribald tale of some daring heist he’d pulled off with a lady Rattataki of a dubious nature. Something about the Rattataki’s description was familiar, but Theron really wasn’t in the mood to listen closely enough to whatever yarn was being spun to try and pinpoint exactly what. He pushed the rations around on his plate, trying to work up the will to force more of it down. He couldn’t tell if the fact that it had little to no taste was a good or a bad thing, and eventually he set it down having only consumed maybe half of it. 

“No wonder you’re so puny, Theron,” Jakarro rumbled next to him in Shyriiwook, “if you don’t even finish these measly rations.”

“Some of us just have more refined palates.”

“A Wookiee never leaves a plate unfinished.”

“If you’re still hungry help yourself.” He waved a hand at the half-finished plate. “I’ve had all I can stomach.”

Jakarro immediately scooped up the plate and began to shove large forkfuls in his mouth. Theron shook his head, but wasn’t surprised at this point. The large Wookie had a stomach of steel, and the only thing the spy had seen match his appetite was his capacity to put away drinks. He pitied the next person stupid enough to engage the smuggler in a drinking contest.

Meal finished, Theron let his gaze wander the camp and take in everyone gathered here near the mess. Doc was apparently getting to the particularly racy part of his tale if the raucous laughter indicated anything. He thought he spotted Rusk in the crowd, glaring at his crewmate with clear disdain for the improper decorum. Kira had settled in on the other side of Jakarro, and had struck up a conversation with a private about the same time Doc had decided to break the ice. She’d probably heard this story a few times before, if her exasperated eye roll was any indication. A smattering of both Imperial and Republic forces ringed the campfire, but the remaining three members of The Defender’s crew were absent, including its commander.

He pursed his lips, and tried to decide if he should stick around. He probably should have tried to tackle the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him, courtesy of his reinstatement. His eyes crossed at the mere thought of having to fill in the same information on the fifteen different forms just from the SIS alone. He was looking forward to getting back home, but he was pretty sure he was never going to miss the Republic’s endless bureaucracy and mind numbing busywork.

It was a long enough flight back to Coruscant, the forms could wait another day.

“Kira,” Jakarro growled, “your medic friend is far too boastful. He could use some humility.”

“Really?” Theron asked dubiously. “You’re going to tell someone else that?”

“The Mighty Jakarro only speak the truth!“

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Kira snickered, “he’s had a very trying day.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Theron corrected, “and a very loud day.”

“He’s probably just frustrated,” Jakarro said sagely, although those not versed in the Wookie tongue would have just thought the tone was more of a guttural sigh. “He and my little friend have had no time alone together.”

“I don’t need to spend any time alone with Deefour, thank you very much.”

“Theron, I do not believe my master was referring to me,” the droid corrected oh-so-helpfully, “I believe he was talking about Jedi Master—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Theron cut him off quickly before the droid shouted her name loud enough for the whole camp to hear. Kira burst into laughter, and he speared all three of them with a glare. “Okay, did you guys have a meeting or something about this when I wasn’t looking?”

“Why would we need a meeting?” Jakarro asked. “This is obviously a private matter.”

“Well, thank you, you’re the first to—“

“And as a matter between friends—“

“What is your definition of private?”

“—I know just what’s needed.”

“I really doubt that.”

“Fear not my friend!” Jakarro slung an arm around Theron’s shoulders. “The Mighty Jakarro is a master lover and can help you through this difficult time in your life!”

“Oh no. No, no, no, no!” Theron’s wails of agony were drowned out by Kira’s high-pitched giggles. “My life is fine, just dandy in fact, and for the love of the Force please don’t finish whatever you’re about to say!”

Jakarro, ever the good friend, promptly ignored him. “Now, I know that you are much punier than the Mighty Jakarro, and as such, you won’t be able to match my girth, but you can make up for what you lack in size with stamina!”

Theron could feel his soul trying to leave his body, but unfortunately he stayed tethered to his mortal coil. At the other half of the campfire, the epic tale of Doc and his Rattataki sidekick was still going strong and had the others so enraptured they didn’t notice the spy’s futile attempts to escape his plight. Jakarro still had him trapped in a giant, sweaty Wookie hug, that effectively prevented Theron from digging a hole to the other side of Yavin and avoiding hearing in graphic detail about the more risqué versions of Kashyyyk mating rituals. He’d never known there were so many inventive and lewd uses for trees. Or Kthysh for that matter. And how was that last one Jakarro describing even anatomically possible? And why could Theron not stop picturing it?

“Why are you laughing?” he demanded of Kira. “You’re a Jedi, save me.”

She managed to halt her honking laughter long enough to lay a hand on the Wookiee’s shoulder. “Thank you, Jakarro, that was enlightening. I never knew your people were so… creative.”

“They’re not! I invented half of the techniques I just described,” he clarified, finally releasing Theron so he could cross his arms in triumph.

“Of course,” Kira said.

“Theron,” Deefour chimed in, “I think I see Master Highwind and Lord Scourge over near the guard station. As you're a beginner and there's a lack of sturdy trees around, might I suggest you try The Mighty Jakarro Technique #4, the Motesta Driller—“

“Deefour,” Kira said the droid’s name almost a little too loudly, “you never did finish telling me  how Queen Lina of Onderon handled the negotiation of the Duke’s release after he was captured by the saboteurs.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful story!” Deefour exclaimed.

Jakarro’s eyebrows drew together in an exaggerated expression of pain, and Theron couldn’t help but also flash Kira a look of pure betrayal as well. She returned his look with a significant head tilt to the guard station that had been mentioned. He flicked a quick glance to see the silhouette of Scourge towering over the smaller Jedi Master, and pressed his lips together in a fine line. He gave Kira a quick nod of thanks before he silently slipped away from the campfire.

He wove a slightly circuitous path, taking a few extra moments to reach his quarry. As a whole, not a lot of people were fluent enough in Shyriiwook that anyone listening in had probably even understood half of what Jakarro had said (the lucky bastards), but he decided not to make his destination too obvious just as a matter of precaution. He didn’t really have a set plan in mind of what he was going to do when he got there, like most of his ideas he was more or less just winging it.

“I grow weary with this pointless self-pity you’ve been indulging in,” the Sith growled. “If you continue to wallow in your Jedi failings and tarry here, at this rate the galaxy will be consumed of all life before we even get off this miserable planet.”

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I think even incorporeal beings have to account for travel time. We can take a moment or two to recover.”

“Or wallow as the case may be.”

“As always, Scourge,” Grey ground out, patience audibly tested, “I will take your warnings under consideration.”

“I wouldn’t,” Theron called out, “then again, I’m just contrary like that.”

“Ah, one of our reasons to tarry.”

“Lord Scourge,” Theron greeted, exuding fake civility.

“Agent Shan,” the Sith returned, tone equally polite but somehow also dripping with menace.

Grey glanced between the two of them, eyebrows raised high. “Well, you two are certainly feeling very formal tonight.”

Scourge ignored her. “What brings you out this evening, Agent?”

“Felt like taking a walk,” Theron tossed back, “seeing as it’s so sweltering here in the jungle.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” He looked over at the Jedi, clearly directing the next statement at her. “I heard there’s a nice breeze on edge of the plateau at night. Figured it might be worth a look, and help to escape some of the smothering heat for a while.”

“That sounds nice,” she said, corners of her mouth quirking up in the hints of a smile. “I wouldn’t mind getting a bit of air — if you’re not opposed to having a little company.”

“Not at all. I might get bored if I go alone,” he quipped, “but I wouldn’t want to interrupt you two.”

Scourge made a sound of disbelief, and Grey shot him a stern look. Her next statement was definitely directed at the Sith. “You can’t interrupt a conversation that was already finished.”

“Oh, well in that case…” Theron motioned the winding path through camp that led up to the large platform he had visited earlier.

“Seeing as you’re busy,” Scourge’s voice dripped with disdain, “I’ll head back to the ship and help the droid finish his preflight check. If we’re having visitors this evening, I suppose we should also pick up any clutter.”

She gazed at him placidly. “There’s no clutter on the ship. Seetoo would have a fit if one thing was out of place.”

“Silly me, how could I forget that irritating metal monstrosity?” Scourge muttered as he began to stalk off.

“I would not let him hear you say that,” she warned, “unless you want bland meals for the rest of the month.”

“I wouldn’t know the difference anyway,” Scourge’s snarl was nearly lost to the distance, “seeing as I can’t taste anything.”

“Oh… right.”

She still had a deep set frown in place as she watched her crew mate stride away, although it was unclear if it was due to the Sith’s comments on the protocol droid or the entire conversation in general. If it had anything to do with what Theron had accidentally overheard up on the platform, he really couldn’t fault her for it. However, it was also clear from her conversation with Scourge that she was not in the mood to discuss what was bothering her. 

Perhaps the thing a good friend would do in this instance would be to change the subject, try and take her mind off of things. If their positions were reversed, he would have much preferred distraction to talking. And if the end result was that it chased away that brooding expression and brought back the hints of that sunny smile she’d sometime grace him with, then all the better.

“Cheery fellow,” Theron remarked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“He has a different outlook than most on the world.”

It was possible that mastering the understatement was a common Jedi trait, Theron mused to himself as he led the way down the path towards the platform. “And exactly how do you maintain being such an optimist when exposed to that sunny disposition of his day after day?”

“Optimist?”

“Come on,” he said lightly, “I’ve never met someone so willing to look on the bright side of things as you are.”

“I am just me,” she said with hints of a frown. “I don’t try to see anything but as they are.”

“Of course you don’t,” he shook his head with a wry laugh. “There is no try, huh?”

“Heard that one, have you?”

“Ngani Zho may have mentioned it… a lot.”

She cracked a smile. “Somehow I can see that.”

“Hey,” he said lightly, “some of us were a little more precocious as children.”

She arched a brow. “That statement implies you grew out of it.”

He mock glowered at her, exaggerating the expression so she could tell it was meant as a joke, and the hints of a smile blossomed into a quiet huff of laughter. Theron followed it up by lightly jostling her with his elbow, and the huff turned into a snort.

“Theron Shan! It is not polite to elbow others in the ribs.”

“Hm, I think Master Zho might have mentioned that once or twice too.”

“He sounds like a very wise man. You should listen to him.”

“He was,” Theron corrected gently, and her smile fell a little as she realized the implication. “And I probably should have done a little better job at listening.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly. “It’s been a while.”

“Time can heal many things,” she said with a little more understanding than he was prepared for, “but it doesn’t erase it all the hurt.”

“That’s true.” Theron said, scuffing the ground with his boot on the next few steps. “He was a good man. I try to remember that, do what would make him proud. Not sure I always get there.”

“Was he the one that raised you?”

Theron nodded. “I think you two would have gotten along. He wasn’t always the most traditional of Jedi, but he taught me a lot.”

“He did a good job,” she said warmly.

“How do you figure?”

“You helped the Republic from a conspiracy that would have torn it apart,” she said, “regardless of the personal cost. He would have been proud of you for all of this. I’m sure of it.”

He gave her a small smile. “Well, at least one of us is.”

She frowned at that. “You don’t agree?”

“You and I butted heads a lot over the course of all of this,” Theron pointed out, “and I’m pretty sure that were he here, he would have sided with you.”

“We may not see eye to eye on every decision, Theron,” she said softly, “but I don’t doubt that your heart is in the right place.”

“No?”

“Well, you did just save me from at least another ten minutes of lecturing, and I am very grateful for that.”

“I aim to please.”

“I feel like Scourge would not agree with that. He seemed quite displeased with your arrival.”

“Have you ever seen the man happy?” he asked dubiously.

“Not in the way most people are, no,” she said, “but there are reasons. He’s very… focused on his goal.”

“I noticed.”

“And he thinks I’m preoccupied.”

“People need to mind their own business,” Theron spat. “Hopefully you told him to take a walk.”

“I have. Several times. It’s been a recurring subject.”

“Sounds like my day,” Theron muttered.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” he said quickly.

“Has Scourge been bothering you?”

“Scourge? No.” Well, at least not today.

“But others have.” She pursed her lips. “About what?”

The many conversations over the course of the day surfaced in his mind. Doc. Satele. Kira. Hell, even Jakarro. The memory of the Wookiee’s vivid, salacious descriptions made Theron wince. “You don’t want to know. Trust me.”

A blond eyebrow arched quizzically. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

“You weren’t there,” he said lightly. “Feel lucky.”

“I would first have to know what you’re talking about to begin with.”

“Let’s just say I know more about Jakarro than I ever wanted to or asked for.”

“Then I will let the subject drop since it’s obviously so painful.” He was pretty sure that was her sarcastic tone.

“Your chivalry is noted.”

“Officially?”

“Unofficially. I decided to leave some of the finer details out of my reports. Professional discretion and all that.”

“I can appreciate the need for some…” she bit her lower lip as if she was trying to hold back a smile, “discretion.”

Theron decided to exercise some at that moment as a rush of heat washed over him. He tucked his hands into his pockets to keep them occupied, and kicked at the weathered pavers at their feet. As they left the main portion of the camp, the thick vegetation thinned as they approached the large landing platform and the crumbling ruins above. The light from the main part of the camp was dim here, and the path was lit with a few lanterns and several glowrods in the weathered torch holders. A few flickers of light from above indicated that the watchtowers posted at the edges of the camp were occupied, but they didn’t do much to illuminate the way.

Grey’s gaze wandered upward, taking in the unobstructed view of the night sky. Wisps of clouds streaked across the darkened sky, illuminated by the twinkling stars just visible around the dark looming red specter of the gas giant of Yavin Prime. The frown lines eased as she traced the visible constellations, and her shoulders relaxed. It almost seemed like a private moment, and Theron felt like he was intruding just by watching, but he couldn’t quite tear his gaze away. Her features looked just a little softer in the starlight, almost ethereal. As he tried to swallow the feeling bubbling up inside of him, she glanced back down at him with the same intensity she had directed to the skies above. Almost as if she were looking at one of her stars that had fallen from its proper place in the night.

It took a extra few moments for his breath to catch back up with him.

“They’re different on every planet, yet somehow still part of the same whole,” she said quietly.

He had to swallow a few times before he found his voice. “Is that so?”

“No matter where we go, they continue to watch us in their ever-changing patterns,” she added, still looking at him with that same starstruck expression. “They’re a bit like the Force in that way. You can use their light to guide you through the night. Or through the black of space.”

“I don’t usually slow down enough to stop and look,” Theron whispered.

“If you have time, you should try, Let the moment breathe into you.” Her face lit up in a bright smile. “It can be very grounding.”

“Says the woman who lives on a spaceship.”

“That’s why I stop to look.”

A few guards were stationed near the landing platform, even though no shuttles were running at this point. They wandered on the edges of the path, and carefully picked their ways up the dark steps leading to the overlook that Theron had found earlier. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, but he still had to be careful of the pits and cracks so he didn’t fall and embarrass himself.

The fabled breeze greeted them up on the platform, gently teasing its fingers through the Jedi’s ponytail. He resisted his urge to run his own hands through it, and continued to guide the way around the massive stone archway, until their view was nothing but the jungle and temple dotted junglescape below. The bright flickers of flame identified the locations of the Massasai villages, but the temples were dark, only illuminated by the stars and reflected light from the gas giant above.

The wind was a little stronger here, almost enough to break the oppressive swelter of the night. He heaved in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. It almost felt like the first real breath he had taken in a long time.

It was strange. He never had really wanted to make any one moment stretch out, but right now he felt the need to try and etch everything into memory. He didn’t want to forget the coolness of the breeze caressing his face, the twilit landscape stretching below, or the warm presence fitting comfortably at his side.

Theron didn’t know when she had gotten that close, how his arm had draped itself across her shoulders without him consciously thinking about it, or at what point her fingers had reached up to intertwine with those curling around her shoulder. Just as he started to look down to comment, he felt her other hand gently cup his chin and guide it upwards to the night sky.

The soft hair of her ponytail tickled his neck as she leaned into him, her head resting right over his heart. He felt a deep twinge in his chest, like a vibroblade being plunged past his ribcage and straight into the deepest part of him. Her weight pressed into him as he inhaled, and something hard and brittle inside of him broke.

He could have said something, but he was enjoying hearing the distant chirps of the nocturnal Ginx. He could have moved, but then he’d have to untangle the fingers barely holding on to his. He could have glanced around to see if there were any observers, but that would mean he would have to look away from the stars.

So instead of doing anything, he just leaned in further, and let the moment breathe into him.

Art by @lumielles (who you should definitely go commission)

[romancatholicreflections]

25th January >> Fr. Martin's Gospel Reflections / Homilies on  Mark 16:15-18 for the Feast of the conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle‘: Proclaim the good news to all creation.

Feast of the conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle  

Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Mark 16:15-18

Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News

Jesus showed himself to the Eleven and said to them:

‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation. He who believes and is baptised will be saved; he who does not believe will be condemned. These are the signs that will be associated with believers: in my name they will cast out devils; they will have the gift of tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands, and be unharmed should they drink deadly poison; they will lay their hands on the sick, who will recover.’

Gospel (USA)

Mark 16:15-18

Go out to all the world and tell the Good News.

Jesus appeared to the Eleven and said to them: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved; whoever does not believe will be condemned. These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will drive out demons, they will speak new languages. They will pick up serpents with their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them. They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”

Reflections (6)

(i)  Feast of the conversion of Saint Paul the Apostle

There was clearly a violent streak to Paul before he became a follower of the Lord. He says of himself in today’s first reading that he persecuted the followers of Jesus to the death, and sent women and men to prison in chains. When he left Jerusalem for Damascus, he said, it was with the intention of bringing believers in Jesus back to Jerusalem as prisoners for punishment. After he encountered Christ on the road to Damascus, the violent streak in Paul seems to have disappeared. He was just as zealous as an apostle of the Lord as he had been as a Pharisee. Yet, now, his zeal did not take a violent or destructive form. Indeed, he experienced the same suffering and persecution from the authorities as he himself had previously inflicted on others. He went from inflicting suffering on others in God’s name to enduring suffering from others in the service of the Lord. Paul had a profound experience of God’s love for him through Christ, on the road to Damascus. He came to appreciate that this love of God, revealed through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, embraced all of humanity, Jews and pagans. From now on, it was this love of God, revealed in Christ, which would shape his zeal. His destructive zeal became a loving zeal. He wrote once, in one of his letters, ‘the love of Christ urges us on’. He is not speaking there about his love for Christ but about Christ’s love for him. Christ’s love for him directs him to do what he does, shapes what he does and how he does it. Paul shows us in this way what is at the heart of our own baptismal calling. We are called to come to know with our heart and mind Christ’s love for us, and allow that love to shape what we do and how we do it. We are to give expression in our lives to Christ’s love for humanity. Paul was a religious person before his meeting with Christ. However, he was only a Christ-like person after that meeting. It is possible to be religious without being loving. Paul, the apostle, shows us that authentic religion, true spirituality, shows itself in a life that reveals the love of Christ for us.

And/Or

(ii) Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

We know more about Paul of Tarsus than about any other first generation Christian. This is the largely because of the many letters written by him that form part of our New Testament, and also because of Luke’s concentration on Paul in the Acts of the Apostles. Paul’s transformation from zealous Pharisee and opponent of the church to equally zealous preacher of the gospel and pastor of his churches had enormous implications for the fledgling Christian movement. It was Paul who was largely responsible for taking the gospel from the Jewish world of Palestine into the Greco-Roman world beyond. He founded churches throughout much of modern day Turkey and Greece, bringing the gospel further west than it had ever gone before. He was at one and the same time, a dynamic missionary, a caring pastor and a profound theologian. His letters continue to nurture the faith life of Christians today. Paul always attributed the transformation in his life not to his own efforts but solely to God’s grace, to God’s gracious initiative towards him. Writing to the Corinthians he says, ‘By the grace of God I am what I am’. Paul’s story reminds us that we can never underestimate the power of God’s grace in our own lives, the extent to which God power’s at work within us and among us can bring about real transformation, both personal and ecclesial.

And/Or

(iii) Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

The conversion of Paul was one of the momentous events of the early years of the church, perhaps the most momentous event after the death and resurrection of Jesus and the coming of the Holy Spirit. In his own words Paul went from ‘violently persecuting the church of God’ to becoming the church’s great apostle to the Gentiles. Paul went on to establish churches throughout modern day Turkey and Greece. Looking back on this transformation in his life, he always attributed it to God’s grace. ‘By the grace of God, I am what I am’, he says in his first letter to the Corinthians, ‘and his grace towards me has not been in vain’. As I was reading a book on the life of Pope Francis recently, it was clear to me that he underwent something of a conversion in his own life. Looking back over his time as provincial of the Jesuits in Argentina, he openly acknowledges that he made many mistakes. Some of those mistakes had serious consequences for others, particularly two Jesuits. He clearly has great remorse for those failures. Yet, it is clear from what he has said since becoming Pope that he has an even more powerful sense of God’s mercy. He knows himself to be a forgiven sinner and that gives him a great joy and a great freedom, and a great understanding for the failings of other people. He seems like a man who never judges people. The story of Paul and of Pope Francis reminds us that God’s mercy is available to all of us if only we keep asking for it. We are all forgiven sinners, and, as forgiven sinners, the Lord can work powerfully through all our lives, as powerfully as he worked through the life of Paul, and as powerfully as he is now working through the life of Pope Francis.

And/Or

(iv) Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

Today we celebrate that extraordinary moment in the life of Paul when he was transformed from a persecutor of the church to its great apostle to the Gentiles. Acting as a zealous Pharisee, Paul had done a lot of harm to the church. He was present at the stoning of Stephen, approving of what was happening. Because of his experience of the risen Lord as he approached Damascus, he went on to become someone who was a wonderful blessing for the church. He established churches, communities of believers, throughout modern day Turkey and Greece. It wouldn’t be true to say that Paul changed his religion as a result of what happened to him on the road to Damascus. After his encounter with the risen Lord, he continued to see himself as a Jew, but now he was Jew who believed that the God of Israel had been powerfully revealed in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus and that Jesus was the long-awaited Jewish Messiah who was God’s unique Son. It was as if his extraordinary energy as a Pharisee was redirected from opposing what God was doing through Jesus to proclaiming it as good news for Jews and pagans alike. Not only did Paul not change religion, he didn’t change from being a bad person to a good person. He was always a good person. As a Pharisee he was trying to serve God as best he could. Yet, looking back at this time in his life, he came to see that his zeal for God was not enlightened. His meeting with the risen Lord was a moment of enlightenment that allowed him to redirect his zeal in a way that was in keeping with God’s will for his life and for humanity. Religious zeal in itself does not always serve God well. It needs to be rooted in an experience and an understanding of God as God is, as God has been revealed in Jesus. The story of Paul teaches us that there is always room for us to grow in our understanding of God and God’s will for our lives, so that our own zeal for God is directed in a way that really does serve God’s purpose for our world.

And/Or

(v) Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

The story of the conversion of Saint Paul that we read in the first reading this morning from the Acts of the Apostles is one of those great biblical stories that has captured the imagination of artists and writers throughout the centuries. Here was a defining moment, not only in the life of Paul, but in the life of the early church,. One of the early church’s fiercest critics and opponents suddenly became one of its greatest missionaries and preachers of the gospel. What brought about this extraordinary transformation? Luke in the Acts of the Apostles and Paul in his letters are very clear about the answer to that question. It was the risen Lord himself who appeared to Paul, and in that extraordinary encounter a new Paul was born. The one who said of himself that he once persecuted the church and tried to destroy it became the one who could now say of himself, ‘It is no longer I, but Christ who lives in me’. The story of Paul tells us that, with God’s grace, extraordinary transformations for the better can happen in all of our lives. Christ’s transformation of Paul didn’t obliterate in any way the person Paul was, rather, it took all his great gifts and resources and pointed them in the right direction. The Lord’s transforming work in our lives will be of the same kind; it will channel all our gifts and resources into the service of God’s saving purpose. That transforming work of the Lord is ongoing in us all through our lives. If we can be as open as Paul was to the Lord’s transforming grace at work within us, we too will be able to say with Paul, ‘it is no longer I but Christ who lives in me’.

And/Or

(vi) Feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul

Today is the feast of the Conversion of Saint Paul. It concludes the week of prayer for Christian Unity. Reflecting on his experience on the Road to Damascus, Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, ‘I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace towards me has not been in vain’. Paul was very aware that the transformation in his life from persecutor of the church to apostle to the pagans was not the fruit of his own efforts. It was fundamentally God’s doing. God, through Christ, worked powerfully in his life. Paul’s experience reminds us that the Lord can work powerfully in all our lives, and often in surprising and unexpected ways. We can be greatly graced by the Lord’s transforming presence, even when we are least deserving of it, and least expecting it. The letter to the Ephesians puts it very strikingly, God’s power ‘at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine’. That realization gives us hope. In the struggles that seem to overwhelm us, we can entrust ourselves to the power of the Lord’s grace at work in our lives for our ultimate good.

Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland.

Email: sjtbclontarf@eircom.net or  frmartinhogan@gmail.com

Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie  Please join us via our webcam.

Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC.

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Interview with Indivar. Osho Darshan Diary. The Great Nothing. Monday 4.October 1976.

Maneesha: How did you come to hear about Osho?

Indivar: I can tell you about the actual event that happened, but really it seems as if all that has happened up to this time has been a preparation for coming here.  And looking back it seems that everything was necessary-even those things which were difficult or painful at the time.

But specifically I was having lunch with a woman-she’s a lecturer in psychology and she’d been to India and just returned. She said, “You should read this,” and put this book into my hand and I felt this current going up my  arm, and I said, “What’s this?”  That was “No Water, No   Moon‘.  And of course I was gone….that was it.  Anyway, I read the book-and that was the first explosion.  Prior to this it’s been quite a long story.

Maneesha: Can you briefly outline the things that you see as having been major points in bringing you here?  Did you have any spiritual inclinations or see your self  as a seeker? Your a psychiatrist  aren’t you?

Indivar: A clinical psychologist.

Well, it’s been there for as long as I can remember, even as a small boy.  

I trained as a clinical psychologist and after five years out of post-graduate school, I suddenly became aware that I knew nothing about what I was supposed to be doing. So I began to look into the nature of anxiety and discovered that there   are two different sorts: pathological anxiety-which is at once or at the same time, protective-and then the existential anxiety: the anxiety of death, the anxiety of feeling meaninglessness, the anxiety of guilt-that life demands something of you.

This led straight into existential philosophy, which led directly into Zen, because existential philosophy says that you must commit  yourself totally and do totally what you think and believe and then learn from the experience.  So it is total commitment to depression, anxiety and all these things.

Then it just exploded and took off from their.

Maneesha: So your coming here seemed to be just a  natural step in going deeper Into psychology, or were you also seeking something for yourself?

Indivar: Well, I never at any time wanted to be a psychologist. As long as I can remember it was always, “What is it all about?”  And this was just naturally the next move and the thing to do.  I just followed it.

Maneesha: So having become interested in Zen, what happened then?

Indivar: My first long service leave came up seven years with this particular employer, so I thought, well, theirs only one thing to do-three months in Zazen.

I did it and it was exhausting! I  stuck half an hours  Zazen, half an hour working or walking or chopping wood, and then back to Zazen-for three months.

Then I went back to work and this Indian appeared from nowhere through this woman, and he told what I’d been doing had been making too much effort, too much aggression, that I’d been making too much effort, trying to attack it.  He more or less became my teacher-Chaitanya  Nitya Yetti.  Whenever I came across any difficulty, I would write to him and he would know  the story. I’d never at any time thought of him as my guru, though I loved him very much.

Then I met Maharshi-such a beautiful man. His main thing was to ask “Who am I?”-which I simply became  aware was irrelevant. What you have to focus on is the feeling of what you call “I” or “me“. So I began to do that, and I was doing that until I came here.

I keep a picture of him in my room.  I keep meditating on that all the time, and it does exactly the same thing that Osho’s picture does-it goes blue, interestingly enough.  I always keep it above me in the room in the clinic where I work and whenever I’m in doubt, I stop and just sit and look at it, and people to start to cry and to roll on the floor and just do so many things.

Maneesha: Were you keeping up meditating regularly all this time?

Indivar: Yes, I was.  Every morning at five o’clock I’d get up, meditate for an hour and then go to the clinic.

Maneesha: Can you say something more about the changes in your work?  You were becoming more passive, less of a  doer?

Indivar: Yes.  When I went into the study of anxiety and then into existential approach, this led to a whole great outpouring of what I call ”therapy by repetition“.  What I would do was to take whatsoever  was presented and just get a person to repeat that.  Doing that would reinforce the thing they were trying to avoid.  A great explosion of emotions used to come out and it was miraculous.

Maneesha: Had you any experience of encounter groups and that approach?

Indivar: Well, any therapy you like to name I’d used. Eventually I reached the point where I did nothing, because more and more you realize that unless this whatever it is-this force of grace-is there, everything else is irrelevant.  So you simply allow the person to get in contact with this grace-what Perls calls the wisdom of the organism … simply allow that to take over-and that’s it.  It just all fall’s into place.

Maneesha: What were your impressions, your feelings, on reading Osho’s books, about the person who had written them?

Indivar: As if I’d known him for thousands of years. It was incredible.  I’ve fallen In love with four women in my life and really gone into this madness. Osho was the fifth!  [Laughter] It was incredible.  Just to read something: Ooohhh…too much!  Put it down!  It was like that.  It’s the only way I can describe it.  The same feeling exactly as falling in love.  It’s almost just too painful stay with.

Maneesha: So how did you finally make the decision to come here?  

Indivar: There was really no decision.  It was a question of when I could arrange it.  This long service leave came up and I made arrangements and got in a housekeeper to help my wife-which is interesting because Osho has been talking about the femininity in people and I am very much aware of the feminine me.

Maneesha: How have your family been reacting to your moving into meditation?  Have they been quite receptive?

Indivar: Well, of course my wife thinks I’m mad. She’s a  doctor, and being trained in the rational   mode of medicines he finds it difficult it to enter the  sphere, which of course has made quite a  rift. I’ve found meditation extremely helpful in dealing with the reactions that come. But the children surprisingly enough have been brought much closer to me.  In fact when I meditate they come and sit here [indicating  his lap].They stay there-not talking, just sitting,  particularly the younger one-she just sits….just sits.  The older ones not so much.  I was just thinking about that.  Perhaps they were too old to experience whatever it was. Maneesha: Can you describe your first feelings on seeing Osho?

Indivar: I just felt so….well, like coming home…as if I wasn’t  meeting him for the first time. It seemed quite normal: there he was and it was an “Oh, we meet again” sort of thing.

And when he asked whether I wanted to take sannyas I thought, “Well, that’s ridiculous!  Why is he playing this game?  Of course he knows I’m a sannyasin !I mean-how absurd! ”Because you know, it didn’t matter because he obviously knew what the score was and it just seemed to be a game really.

Then the groups started. That was an experience in itself.

Maneesha: They’ve been very powerful for you?

Indivar: I only lasted twelve hours in the Enlightenment Intensive. I became aware of just what a full vessel I’d brought with me.

Maneesha: What do you mean by a full vessel?

Indivar: Well, full of ideas, expectations, and also the realization that I’d been very much of a monk in the world, been strenuously striving not to strive. I could hardly speak or move or do anything, and I was completely devastated.  I spent about three days recovering before I went into the Tao group.  It was like recovering from a long illness.

Maneesha: And how was Tao?

Indivar: Well, for the first two days I found myself reacting almost automatically-doing the things I’ve been doing for the past twenty years without thinking about it.  Then on the third day Prasad became filled by this energy-I didn’t know  at the time. He was saying, “Indivar!  Indivar!  Touch my foot!  Touch my foot!”  And I thought, “Well, that’s a funny thing to say.  Why does he want me to touch Is foot!  Well, I’ll touch his foot If he wants me to.“ So I touched his foot with my hand and aaahhhh!!!  This great scream came out of my body…as if it wasn’t me.  I knew that something  was making it, and it just came-a great scream.  So I sank to the floor  and fell back. It was so beautiful.  I didn’t know where I was.  I was just nailed to  the floor.

They tell me people were coming and touching the body and having abreactions….screaming.  There was one  girl on the foot, weeping.  I was  spaced out completely. And that was the end!  I’ve never been the same since.  That was another explosion.  There have been many more since, but that perhaps was the one thing which just went beyond reason because here was something unbelievable, but it happened and what it was I haven’t the faintest idea. It happened and I experienced it.  And it happened three times in the same group.

Maneesha: Do you have any sort of energy experiences when you’re near Osho?

Indivar: Only in Darshan-Not in the lecture. I do in my room-when I’m doing Zazen, or when I’m running: running is beautiful. In fact that was the first way I discovered what centering was.

For many years I’ve been running about six miles every day.  One day, going beyond the point of exhaustion, I suddenly began to float and I thought, ”This is strange.  What is it?”  I started weeping.  I wasn’t running-I was floating and tears streaming down my face! I thought, “I’m going mad!” It only happens when you’re absolutely exhausted and just pushed beyond that exhaustion. It only lasted about two hundred yards and then I collapsed; that was it. It wasn’t until I read “The Book Of The Secrets” that I found out what it was: Your thrown to the center.

Maneesha: Of what about Tathata.

Indivar: What became apparent in Tathata was the reconciliation of the opposites. I would be directed to a passage in a book and it would open up on the opposites and about having to experience  everything from one end to another. So taking these and reconciling them was the key thing that came up in Tathata.

Osho told me to read Lao Tzu.  I couldn’t get a copy of him so I got Chuang Tzu instead. So I go fishing with Chuang Tzu. He’s crazy!  He doesn’t even have a rod. Going fishing without a rod!  What fisherman goes fishing without a rod? I ask you.

And you know what he does? He just sits on the river and looks at the river and he doesn’t do anything.  So I sat there and then I said, “Listen mate, your enlightened and all this stuff, but tell me, what about these fish?”

He said, “You want fish?  You sit there and watch!”  And suddenly all these fish start jumping out at me-big ones, small ones, pink ones, thin ones saying, ”Take me!  Take me!” I thought, “This is fantastic!  I have to try this!”

The next morning I get up really early and I sneak off to the river leaving Chuang Tzu behind. I go and sit on the river and I sit in his seat the way he was sitting.  I sit there and become very still and then what happens?  The whole river falls in on me and everything else disappears…just falling.  It was incredible. I don’t know how long it lasted.

I wrote a letter to Osho telling him about this, I put it in my pocket and of I marched, and you know what happened?  The first thing he said when he came in the lecture was, “Do not  hang on to any spiritual experience, no matter how ecstatic or blissful. ”So how about that?

But then of course the principle of  non striving, which has been perhaps the greatest single thing coming here, came up in the hypno- therapy.  If I was running and everybody else had stopped running, I’ve always been the last to give in, which of course has its positive side.  And this non-effort-which is not of course, not doing anything, but dealing with what comes along….And its most strange because what you seem to need comes along without your doing anything. And I find that in a way I’m back to where I started but the difference is that now I can do  Zazen without  effort.  

One of the single greatest experience is also came in Hypnotherapy, when under hypnosis. Santosh said that I would only have an hour to live. It was almost as if it was true-I believed this.  So I went up on top of Krishna House on the roof and began to write in a notebook what I would have to clear away and then suddenly, ”This is ridiculous!  What does it matter?  In fifteen minutes I’m going to be a dead man! Nothing matters!!”  Suddenly the heavens sort of opened up.  It was impossible to do anything.

Then I said, “Well, I’d like to say goodbye to Prasad. We said goodbye. Then I thought “Well, what will I do now?  “I said, “Where’s the best place to wait?  Of course,  at the gate! ”[of Osho’s residents.]

So I just went and sat by the gate. I sat there and there was no future because I was going to die and the past didn’t matter. Suddenly I was just being in the here and now. And I knew what he meant-just to be there….the sun shining, the birds, the trees, the ground. It was all so beautiful….so beautiful and peaceful and still, I could have died then it was so beautiful.

So there was this awareness of no effort, no future, no past-only now, If you’re there, there’s no striving, no striving for the future.

Maneesha: And the quality of your Zazen is of less effort now?

Indivar: Yes, well, it’s not really Zazen anymore.  It is watching these thoughts coming up.  It’s like going to the pictures: I’m just sitting there and watching all these things coming.

And also I’m getting these feelings or commands or whatever they are-being told to go to such and such place, to be here, to do this and to do that; so I just do them. Simple things-I sit in my room alone and the voice says, “Put on your best gown and go down to the coffee shop.”  I think, “All right-I’ll do that.”  Then someone comes up to me and says, “I want to talk about Rajneesh,” so I sit and talk about Osho with them.

 Yesterday someone came up-a movie maker from Australia who wants to make a movie about Osho-so I brought him to the lecture this morning. The day before that, it was an industrialist from Bombay who has this world interest in advertising-I brought him along to the lecture.  And all the waiters in the Blue Diamond, and the housekeeper, they stop me and say, ”What about this Osho?”  So I stop and talk to them about him, and they ask for books….Very strange.  

Maneesha: So this having  directives from inside is something that’s quite new?

Indivar: Yes!

Maneesha: And the lectures…. Are they an intellectual stimulus for you or do you find you go into a meditative space during them?

Indivar: I just go into some kind of space. But always if there’s a question to be answered, the answer always comes up in the lecture-like the letter I told you about. Just comes.

Maneesha: You described how you got here as being a natural evolution of your work. Do you see that it must be everybody’s next-everybody who is involved in therapy, in psychology, psychiatry, the human potential movement?  Do you see this realm as being a  natural follow On?

Indivar: I think that which therapy has done is all right up to a point, but once you’ve reach that point you then have to jump into the abyss.

Their are two quite different journeys as you probably know.  There’s the outward journey-you have to acquire an ego-there’s no other way.  Like Osho says, if God didn’t want man to have knowledge he wouldn’t tell him about the tree; Man would still be wandering around in nowhere, not even aware of the tree of knowledge.

So there’s this outward journey-there’s this acquiring of the ego-and all these so-called humanistic therapies are concerned with ego fulfillment-which is more or less conventional psychotherapeutic treatment.  You know-”OK will fix you up,” and so on and so forth.  Its okay, but it’s only the outward journey. Then we must return back to the source

When I see that a person needs prompting or pushing on the outward journey…always with people now it’s trying to see whether that point of readiness is there, to begin the return journey.  And my own journey into myself has shown me that the more open we are, the more open we become-that openness is your gift to others.  So I’m not concerned with all this psychology and everything.

Maneesha: So you could say that these therapies bring you’re ego to a crystallization; to a point where it’s fulfilled and so naturally starts to rebound?

Indivar: Well, you reach a point where you think, “What the hell?  Here I am and I’ve got all these things of life, but it’s still meaningless.  I’ve achieved everything-but so what?  I’m still exactly the same.  “You have to reach the point of seeing the nonsense, the emptiness of all achievement.  But it depends…Some people become much more ready even before this.

And that’s interesting because for some of the most seriously disturbed people I’ve worked with-even some schizophrenics-this in itself has been sufficient. They have become very spiritual. It’s quite extraordinary One alcoholic, for example, who had been an alcoholic of very long-standing and had thrown himself of a seven-story building to commit suicide and had crippled himself -he came along.  He just went straight into self-observation or the self remembering of Gurdjieff, just like a duck takes to  water. He was just ready for it, and all I did was to be a catalyst.  This has been happening more and more.

Maneesha: What were your first impressions of the ashram?

Indivar: Well I came with conceptions or ideas of what it would be and was rudely shattered when I found it was nothing like that at all.  The thing which was most noticeable was the indifference of people. I was surprised about that. I thought, “stone the crows!” [Australian for, “Good heavens!] What’s the matter?-so serious. Not interested in each other. I couldn’t care less, you know, it doesn’t make any difference to me, but I could see that it would for someone else.  Since I’ve been here so many people have come to me and I just sit and listen and I wonder that perhaps there is a need for this-for a person to whom people can go because  their are always people in a crisis or with problems. Maybe this happens-I don’t know.  But it was just a thought today that this could be quite valuable.

But I see this indifference as a kind of selective device. Particularly for people with expectations or any ideas that they’re special-which we all feel sometimes. As long as there is an ego, one thinks one is special.  So I see it as the first hurdle-a selective device.

Maneesha: what does Osho mean to you?  Do you experience him as a personality or as an energy force.?

Indivar: It’s almost as if he’s throwing me back on myself.  He sort of took hold of me and gave me one hell of a shake and then he said, “All right mate!  Back you go now.”  And I know what you need is within your self. I still have a tremendous feeling for him but if I were to leave now, it would be quite all right.

Maneesha: So he’s more of a reflection for you rather than an entity in himself?

Indivar: Yes.  What he is, is within me, and wherever I go, whatever I do, there is no separation.  What ever he is-that energy-is always there, always has been.  But coming here was absolutely necessary

                                              