#veritas vos liberabit

[codigodocavalheirismo]

[cowboy-interstellar]

[hazyange1s]

Just when Sebastian had gotten his breath back, it was stolen again. Raegan threw her her arms around him without any sort of warning, and he became all too aware of every place their bodies touched — her thigh pressed to his, the softness of her chest through which he could count every beat of her heart, her hand winding its way through his hair.

Such was his surprise that Sebastian merely blinked before remembering that he actually needed to hug her back, and quickly wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Er…has someone taken a Polyjuice Potion to impersonate you?” He teased roughly, burying his wet face in her curtain of red hair without caring about getting snot on her blouse. “Quick, tell me something only you would know.”

Even if it was some sort of trick, Sebastian realized he would gladly play gullible.

Raegan’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter before she replied, “Last year, I accidentally grazed you with a Confringo blast while fighting goblins, and it burned off the seat of your trousers.”

“Alright.” He was grateful she couldn’t see him blush. “Yes, it’s definitely you; bloody menace.”

- Incendiary, chapter fourteen “veritas vos liberabit” (aka “Sebastian Finally Gets the Hug He Desperately Needs”)

[elkonigin]

Supersum - Chapter 118 is up!

CHAPTER UPDATE!

It’s available to read on AO3 and FFN.  

Chapter Title: Veritas vos liberabit | “Truth will liberate you all”

Summary:  Kaede finds out the truth

Taglist after the cut!  (If you would like to be added reply to this post, and I’ll add you to the list!)

@cookiethewriter​ @ruddcatha​ @shiyshy2004​ @anisaanisa​ @writemydaydreams​ @born-for-eachother​ @lordofthechips​ @themusicalshoo​​ @scaponigifs​​ @zelink-inukag​​  @liz8080​ @shikonstar​​​ @swimgirlz-200

[reggies-fake-horcrux]

marauders as famous Latin quotes:

james- dum spiro, spero (while i breathe, I hope)

sirius- ad astra per aspera (to the stars through difficulties)

remus- lupus non timet canem latrantem (a wolf is not afraid of a barking dog)

peter- qui totem volt totem perdit (he who wants everything, loses everything)

regulus- fluctuat nec mergitur (it is tossed by the waves but does not sink)

marlene- ex nihilo nihil fit (from nothing comes nothing)

mary- alis propriis volat (she flies with her own wings)

lily- struit incidias lacrimis cum feminina plurit (when a woman weeps, she is setting traps with her tears)

dorcas- si vis pacem, para bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war )

evan- veritas vos liberabit (the truth will set you free)

barty- vivamus moriendum est. (let us live, since we must die.)

pandora- si vis amari, ama (if you wish to be loved, love)

[heylorrain]

Serpent's Innocence

[ 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐦𝐲 🐍 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 ]

Previous Part 10 Next

You can read it here or just expand and enjoy!

"They found evidence of all three Unforgivable curses on the wand they confiscated from you, Mrs Morgana. But that wand you gave them... it's not yours."

Lorra's heart raced as she was escorted through the imposing entrance of the Ministry of Magic, her wand taken from her and secured by Arthur Sallow.

Even the time being, the building itself exuded an aura of power and secrecy, with its hulking walls adorned with front pages of the Daily Prophet, bearing headlines of every kind that showcased the vast range of wizarding news. From famous Aurors capturing criminals to the most mundane topics, like the top 10 best-dressed wizards and witches. 

Along the sides of the cold, black marble halls were rows of black chimneys, a telltale sign of wizarding transportation known as floo powder. Lorra watched in awe as witches and wizards appeared and disappeared in flashes of green flames.

Their journey led them to a set of ornate elevator gates. Lorra followed nervously as they descended what felt like an eternity before finally arriving at a door marked with an ominous phrase: Veritas vos liberabit - "The truth will set you free." 

What a wonderful way to spend Christmas Eve…

They cautiously stepped into the small room, its thick gray walls seeming to close in around them. The only source of light came from a dimly glowing floo flame chimney at the far end of the room, casting eerie shadows across the space. In the center of the room sat a worn and uncomfortable looking emerald sofa, serving as a waiting space for visitors.

“Wait here,” one of the stern-faced aurors instructed Lorra as he disappeared through the black metallic door on the other side of the room. She nervously took a seat on the sofa, her mind racing to make sense of what was happening. The rough texture of the furniture only added to her discomfort.

After a few tense minutes, the green flames in the chimney sprang to life, signaling the arrival of Matilda Weasley, Ominis, and Sebastian. Lorra's heart leapt as she rushed towards Ominis, nearly tripping over herself in her haste. They embraced each other tightly, their reunion filled with both joy and pain.

Lorra's shoulders shook as she fought back tears while Ominis wrapped his arms around her, trying to calm her down. 

-"Why would they take my wand? What is happening?" she asked Ominis trying to imagine any possible answer.

-"I don't know, dear," Ominis said, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. "But I promise I will do everything in my power to get you out of this misunderstanding"

-"Don't make promises you can't keep," Arthur sneered, strutting towards them with an air of self-importance.

-"Arthur, please," Professor Weasley interjected sternly. "This is a serious matter and we need to handle it calmly and professionally"

Sebastian rolled his eyes 

-"Always so professional and well-centered, aren't you Arthur? Our family and your colleagues must be very proud." His words dripping with sarcasm and rage.

Professor Matilda let out a frustrated sigh. 

-"Enough! I brought you both here because you insisted on accompanying Lorrain...and because the Ministry allows two witnesses in cases like this."

Witnesses… Witnesses for what?

She glanced at Lorra and gave her a reassuring smile.

- "I'll make sure the paperwork for your wand is ready as soon as possible, Miss Morgana, and with it, your release. Then you can see for yourself that she is innocent, Arthur." 

With that, she turned and left the room with the rest of the aurors.

-“Your wand is currently undergoing thorough examination in the Department of Wand Control, Miss Morgana,” Arthur Sallow began to explain in a stern yet cordial tone. He attempted to soften his approach by casually adding, “Without so many formalities, do you mind if I refer to you as Lorra?” 

She remained silent, her eyes devoid of any respect for him standing in front of her.

However, before she could respond, Ominis interjected with a sardonic and cruel tone. The true Gaunt attitude seemed to seep through his pores as he sneered at the auror's attempt at civility.

-"I'm sure she does mind, especially after being abducted without any explanation from our school. But I suppose you understand that." 

- "I'm not here to argue or entertain petty insults. I want answers, just like I'm sure you all do".

-“Of course you do…” Lorrain whispered.

-“Look, miss Sweety Pie, you’re not going to start giving me lip here. You need to remember your place, and watch it. I’ll give you whatever explanation when I see fit to do so.”

Fury burned in Sebastian and Ominis as they listened to Arthur's patronizing words towards Lorra. Their fists clenched tightly, itching to punch some sense into the arrogant man before them.

"Don't you dare talk down to her like that," Sebastian growled, his voice laced with anger. "She’s not a criminal!"

Ominis stepped forward, his wand at the ready. "We demand answers now, Arthur. Ignoring us will only make things worse for you."

Arthur sneered, his smug expression infuriating. "I couldn't care less about your political and social advantages, young Gaunt. I am here to protect the Wizarding World, and that includes keeping secrets from nosy students like yourself. You’re only here because Matilda Weasley’s stupid connections to the Ministry of Magic proceed her long before your births."

Sebastian's hands trembled with fury as he resisted the overwhelming urge to lunge at his cousin and unleash his pent-up hatred. He could still vividly remember meeting Arthur for the first time at a family reunion, and the disgust had only grown since then. In that moment, he despised his uncle just as much for raising such an arrogant and useless man.

- “Your audacity to accuse innocent people in the name of protecting society makes me sick”. 

-"ALLEGEDLY innocent, dear cousin, allegedly…" Arthur spat back. A flash of rage flickered in Sebastian's eyes as he clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to retaliate. 

-"...And I'll thank you both if you’d let me do my damn job now!" 

With a sudden burst of rage, Arthur slammed his fist down on the wooden table with enough force to make it shake. 

A heavy silence filled the room, punctuated only by the faint sound of shallow breathing and the distant ticking of a clock. The auror's face contorted in anger, his lip curling to reveal two sharp fangs as he glared at the three slytherin students before him.

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he motioned for Lorra to enter through the ominous black door. As it closed behind them with a heavy thud, they were enveloped in an eerie silence, unable to hear anything from the other side. 

-"Arthur is the true living image of Uncle Solomon. They are so alike they can't even tolerate each other. That's one of the reasons he left Feldcroft, they are just like two drops of water, him and his dad " As they stood outside the door, Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle grimly at the irony. 

-“I didn't even know you had a cousin, Sebastian. Charming he is…”

-“Something changed in him ever since he returned from Paris, where he was mentored by Professor Bertrand Caillet. He was already moody and insufferable, but after his return, everything went downhill…

Their chat was interrupted by the sound of muffled voices and screams coming from inside. Panic crept into their minds - could they possibly be torturing her?

Sebastian grabbed Ominis’ hand, in which he had his wand pointing at the door trying to catch a better glimpse of what was- or could- be happening. Sebastian slowly pulled it in another direction. He wanted to prevent his friend from the possible scenarios coming to his mind. 

"Don't torture yourself with unnecessary thoughts, Ominis. If anything happens to her, I'll make sure Arthur pays for it with every last tooth." 

His comment barely registered, and Ominis just nodded silently, feeling frozen in place. 

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there was something else lurking just beneath the surface. An urgent need to share something important with Ominis, caused Sebastian to speak up despite the difficult circumstances. 

-"I know this is not a good time," he began hesitantly, "but I need to tell you something important." 

The blonde's attention now fully shifted to his friend

-"Anne has been-"

The creaking of the door interrupted Sebastian and jolted Ominis out of his trance-like state. Sebastian's sharp gasp and urgent movements snapped him to attention. Something was clearly wrong. Ominis’ eyes immediately shut to concentrate on what his wand was showing him was happening”.

Lorrain was being carried out of the room by Arthur and the other auror. 

She looked drained and pale, her normally vibrant features now marred by tear streaks and bloodshot eyes. She appeared exhausted and on the brink of collapse.

Arthur attempted to lay her gently on the sofa, but was quickly pushed aside by Sebastian and Ominis, whom took over the task of carefully placing her down on the stiff old cushions. The other auror hovered nearby, holding a small bottle of Withering potion to aid in her recovery. 

“We are not the monsters here, you know” the older Sallow said with full regret on his face. 

“Well you’ve certainly been behaving like one!” Ominis yelled at him, losing his grip as he could feel Lorra’s cold cheeks. 

Ominis had never felt the urgency to try to heal someone as hard as he wished he could at that moment. His hands traveled from her cold and sweaty forehead to her chest, that was beating so fast she could barely breath.

-“Sebastian, what did your cousin do to her?”

- “She’s just tired. Unharmed. She’ll be alright”

- “Does she look alright to you?!” Ominis yelled at Arthur but was quickly interrupted by the sound of the main door opening.

The -not so- imposing figure of Hogwarts' Headmaster, Phineas Black, strode into the room, his leather vest stretched taut over his chest and his long black coat billowing behind him. His presence craved attention, and it was clear he expected an answer or verdict from the other aurors in tow. 

-"W-What are you two doing here? Ugh, matter of no importance. Well, Arthur?" he demanded carelessly to the auror. The students just listened intently as Black continued his questioning. 

-"Have you determined her guilt or was this all just a waste of my time?" the Professor asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. The auror took a deep breath before responding. 

-“Despite administering Veritaserum at twice the legal dose and attempting Legilimency, we were unable to extract any useful information from her. Her early memories seem completely blank. As a result, we do not have enough evidence to move forward with a trial, Phineas. We are also waiting for the results of the Wand Weigher, but I’m afraid it’s a dead end”.

As if the words had fallen on deaf ears, Professor Black turned to face the blonde wizard next to him.

-"Young Gaunt, a word with you?" His stupid silly voice punched Ominis right in his brain.

Ominis rose from his seat, leaving Lorra in Sebastian's protective embrace, her now caretaker, making sure she drank all of the potion.

-"Do you understand, young Gaunt, that your family will not be pleased to see their youngest son associating with a criminal and a... stubborn farmer?" He gestured towards Lorrain and Sebastian with a dismissive wave of his hand.

-“I know... my father has made it clear... to some extent.” Ominis stumbled over his words, trying to translate them into something comprehensible from the ridiculous perspective of Black. 

Then it slowly dawned on him what was truly going on. This was no coincidence. This was perfect timing. 

How convenient…

-"Let me give you a piece of advice young man, from one pureblood to another: Stay away from them, until everything is sorted out and we know exactly what we're dealing with. I'm sure you understand what I’m trying to say." Professor Black spoke with a mix of pride and greed.

-"I do understand, Professor. Thank you for your wise words," Ominis forced himself to sound grateful and appreciative towards the headmaster, even though he was really just putting on a facade in an attempt to finish the conversation as soon as possible so he could return to Hogwarts. 

-"I'm so glad you understand... everything is for the greater good, isn't it? To maintain our pureblood status and connections." Professor Black finished with a smug smile as he patted Ominis' shoulder. 

Gaunt forced a polite smile in return, masking his true feelings towards the snobbish headmaster. He didn't even need his wand to see right through the facade of elitism and manipulation, all in the name of preserving their privileged standing. 

Ominis was smart. Extremely. He knew not playing along with the headmaster's game would only bring danger to him and his loved ones, but he had no choice. He had to maintain the facade of the well-behaved lamb, like he had always done. 

-"May I excuse myself? I believe I have more important matters to attend to." Ominis declared abruptly, feigning indifference to the tense situation.

-"There’s the young Gaunt I know! Of course, good boy. Get going and focus on your studies" Black replied with a sinister grin audible enough for others to hear. Ominis nodded in response.

As he walked away to the only chimney in the room, he slyly slipped his wand behind his left ear and whistled a tune. 

He hated whistling. 

But that was a signal to Sebastian, who caught the subtle motion and understood it immediately. They had devised this secret code years ago when they first met, and only they knew about it. Not even Anne, nor Lorra were aware of its existence. 

With a sneer on his face, Arthur scoffed as he watched the blonde wizard disappear into the green flames.

- "Well, well, isn't he just a quick changer?" he said mockingly, his contempt bubbling to the surface.

The headmaster only smiled proudly, convinced that he had managed to manipulate and control the situation to his advantage. But just as they began to bask in their self-righteousness, Matilda Weasley entered the room with two burly ministry officers, holding two chubby folders between her hands. 

-"Gentlemen," she announced with a smug smile, "I am pleased to inform you that this young witch is innocent of all charges you have falsely accused her of. And her wand has been thoroughly inspected by the Ministry. Not a trace of any Unforgivable Curses was found within its core." 

With a triumphant flourish, she handed over the sealed folders to Arthur Sallow for him to see for himself.

As he flipped through the pages, his eyes widened in shock. Every spell cast with her wand had been documented with meticulous detail. The evidence against her accusations of murdering Lady Igraine and Lord Gorlois were irrefutable.

-“Are you certain about this, Professor Weasley?” Professor Black's voice filled with disbelief and disdain as he stared at the green envelope with the results. His eyes were like daggers, willing her to be guilty of the false charges.

-“I made sure the officers followed all the proper protocol, Phineas. Prior Initio Incantato . It never fails,” Mrs. Weasley bit out through gritted teeth, her impatience evident. “Now, if I may, please take my students back to the school. This has been enough for today, don't you think?” She turned to face the Headmaster, a steely determination in her gaze.

-"Of course, of course, Mrs. Weasley," the Headmaster stuttered, clearly intimidated by her sharp tone. "Please, take them and be gone now. And umm...in the spirit of cooperation and convenience, I'll award 50 house points to Slytherin for your services to the school. Also, Merry Christmas!”

Mrs. Weasley scoffed at his pathetic attempt to silence his own students with mere house points. She couldn't help but feel disgusted by such a cheap attempt at manipulation. 

The deputy headmistress frantically pulled her two students close under her protective wing as they left the room threatening to consume them if they lingered any longer.

As they ascended in the elevator, Sebastian and Lorra stood silently at their professors' sides. She remained stoic, eyes scanning the elevator walls for any signs of danger.

-"Professor, how did y-" Sebastian began, but was cut off by a fierce look from her. 

-"You seem to have forgotten my past life as a curse breaker at the Ministry of Magic," she snapped, her voice laced with impatience. "I know how to navigate these treacherous waters, and there are some who still owe me favors, Mr. Sallow."

With a swift movement, they exited the golden elevator and she led them through twisting hallways, her pace almost frantic. In this moment, it didn't matter that she was their teacher - she was their protector. 

Lorra's breath caught in her throat as she whispered, finally regaining her voice. "You lied to them, professor, didn't you?" Her words hung heavy in the air, punctuated by the start of crackling sparks around them. 

"I did." She admitted. "They found evidence of all three Unforgivable curses on the wand they confiscated from you, Mrs Morgana. But that wand you gave them... it's not yours."

Without another word, the professor grabbed her students from the back and they disappeared into the closest chimney, leaving behind only a trail of green sparkles and swirling ash.

Notes

👉 Sebastian understood the assignment - protect your best friend's girl at all costs.

👉 Also I love the idea of Matilda Weasley being a badass

[auroras-patch]

Veritas vos liberabit

If you liked it, reblog!

[elvirable]

Heart to Heart

[ Simon Riley x f!Reader ] | ao3 link

rating: explicit | word count:4.4k | status: work in progress themes/tags: mental health, protective Simon, smut, kind of slow build, violence, y'all are stuck in an abandoned safety unit and well… ———————————————————————-

There is a saying, one as old as time: the truth will set you free.

Such a simple phrase turned convoluted since the days it left your mouth — his therapist.

In other words: You’re the mandated therapist for Task Force 141. Simon doesn’t know why he keeps seeing you even though he doesn’t say much. Things take a twist when an evacuation is required, all outside communication is lost. Lost to the world, you begin to really know the real Simon Riley.

--

Chapters 1 & 2

There is a saying, one as old as time:

The truth will set you free .

It was torturous each time it echoed throughout Simon’s thoughts. Such a simple phrase became convoluted since the days it left your lips  — his therapist.

Well, you were the task force’s therapist  — an immediate result of a new HR policy attempting to ensure the team’s productivity through mental health initiatives. Many people were hesitant, fostering opinions already myopic; who could blame them? The last thing they needed was for the organization to have records of their authentic thoughts and emotions. The less they knew the better .

Despite his natural judgment, Simon had scheduled that first appointment. There wasn’t much to preoccupy him on base between operations and it was mandatory for the team to have at least one briefing. He was unsure what to expect; perhaps a pair of cold eyes, analyzing each breath he took, proactive to prescribe. A slight trepidation stiffened his nerves as the minutes neared his appointment before being overridden by apathy. Simon didn’t need to be honest, rather simply cruise through the entire appointment to negate the need for another one. 

“Come in,” chimed a demure tone from behind a wooden door, one he didn’t expect to be so seraphic .

With the click of the door shutting after him, Simon’s eyes quickly brushed through the setting before him. Tired sunbeams warmed the documents shortly stacked across a desk, and a small orchid sat alone on the auburn coffee table dividing two worn-in couches. His brooding stance from the doorway, tall and exuding aloofness, was enough to deter most people. However, you smiled at him warmly as you finished realigning a framed painting on the wall.

“Please have a seat,” you gestured. Simon complied while you sat across from him, turning a page in your notebook. 

The first session was very brief. You were met with silence after asking him to talk about himself. Dull were the answers you received when you continued, imploring about his interests, relationships, and current symptoms or struggles. When you inquired about his childhood, the only word Simon breathed was “shitty.”

You were merely defeated at his stone composure, until you trailed his glance to the small orchid. Engraved in the ceramic pot were the words: veritas vos liberabit.

“Veritas vos liberabit,” Simon read, plain tone unwavering. 

“Yes,” you watched him as he stared. “It’s latin for ‘the truth will set you free’.”

Simon’s gaze did not leave from the inscription, silent at your response. You found some humor in his demeanor accompanied with the phrase.

“Maybe a mantra that you can consider,” you smiled. His sharp eyes snapped to meet yours, without a hint betraying the thoughts churning behind them. 

You quickly added, “If you choose to do so.”

Simon rose from the couch while you thanked him for his time, the door soon clicking quietly behind him. You were left perplexed. Whereas the other team members answered your questions briefly and directly, this Simon muttered at most ten words. 

You were surprised when, two days later, his name was scribbled onto your appointment sheet.

-- Chapter 2 --

“Who is Simon Riley?”

The click of your pen and a soft shift of fabric fell into the silence as you crossed your legs, staring at the man seated before you: Simon Riley, himself. 

“You have all the files and whatnot,” came his curt reply. His burly arms were crossed across his chest, posture rigid.

“Yes,” you breathed. “All this paperwork lists your achievements, skills, experience. I want to know what isn’t on your military records, Mr. Riley.”

“Simon,” he corrected.

“ Simon. ”

His gaze moved back to that damned orchid and the inscription adorned on its ornate pot: veritas vos liberabit.

Who was he?

What an egregious question — he was a soldier, a mere number continuously onto the next mission. Dispensable, still breathing because he was efficient at his duty. That was the truth, but it sure as hell didn’t ‘set him free’ or whatever that means. 

“Simon?”

The sound of your voice lulled him from his short rumination, his steadfast eyes drawing back to your warm ones. He traced the curve of your cheeks with his gaze, studying the slight furrow in your brows. How the sunbeams embellished their color, detailed and as full of life as the person he could see through them. Every emotion was transparent on your face, incapable of concealing it even if you wanted to; that was the first thing he noticed about you. Simon wasn’t necessarily jealous of that, instead it reminded him how much emotions and expression were foreign to him. Such an openness commanded an admirable authority, the one thing that he wasn't capable of.

He cleared his throat, “I’ve been thinking about that phrase.”

“The one on the orchid?” You piqued, tone immediately inflected with a subtle relief. He had finally said something . 

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s true.” 

“Why not?”

“I’m a lieutenant. I’m good at my job.” His words were steady with candor. “That is who I am. It’s not exactly ‘freeing’.”

“Well, the meaning isn’t so concrete. That’s what you do, correct, but how do you feel about the line of work you do?”

The second his brain processed your question, the only emotion he could identify was numb.  There was a strange adrenaline that followed it, that sensation urging him to run . He joined the military to get away, to run from the cobblestone streets and memories which infringed on his every nerve. There was a trail of tombstones behind him, a damn whole graveyard, as he moved up the ranks throughout the years. And he had no choice to not look back. Everything was rancid with bitterness, so why in the world would he want to?

“It keeps me busy,” whirring thoughts came to a hush as he pushed the words from his mouth.

“Do you like staying busy?”

“Nothing worse than being bored.”

“Mm,” you hummed in moderate agreement. “And what do you get up to when on mandated leave?”

Your voice was sweet on his ears, like honey  — but nothing compared to your eyes. For some reason he couldn’t quite place, he could easily become enraptured like a siren beckoning him to find shelter there. There was a pleasant, beckoning promise of safety in those irises. The concept of residing there felt like an embrace, one that ensured comfort if he completely unraveled. One that promised to put him back together again as your eyes searched his own.

Maybe he hadn’t had much eye contact with a person, let alone even dedicate time to just talk with another. However, the hesitation sprung up those icy walls. Despite that hint of yearning that tugged at his heartstrings, he wouldn’t.. he couldn’t. He wouldn’t know how to crack open his mind. Besides, it wasn’t like it would be worth it anyway. 

Simon let a brief silence linger before he answered.

“That’s not often.”

“I know, but I’m sure you have some hobbies.”

“If you call waiting for the time to pass a hobby.”

You paused for a moment, taking a second to loom over the details of his mask and those stubbornly forward eyes. How they stared with a quiet brutality, a thousand-yard stare capable of moving a cold front right through you. Simon’s taciturn presence was a heavy one, inured by the horrors life had thrown at him. You were attempting to wage a battle to find the cracks in his facade. You were confident he was already doing so on his own volition from the brief twitch in his brows from under his mask; the two of you were stranded outside the towering walls of his mind, but it was evident he didn’t want your help finding a way back in. 

“Let’s change the subject,” you breathed. “You said your childhood was ‘shitty’. We don’t have to talk about that, but was there anything you enjoyed as a child?”

Faces began to blur in Simon’s memory. His father’s, his brother’s. Holidays, gleaming shorefronts, the eagerness of youth. The brief summer of childhood, where laughter and roaming the streets until the sky melted into pink and lilac, was cut short by an unforgiving winter of pain. One that has lasted ever since. Memories became saturated in darkness, enveloped in terror and agony. Everything good boiled away, long gone with a fleeting trace.

But that’s the way life goes , that was the hand he was dealt  — it was all downhill from very early on.

His body stiffened somewhat, shoving away the internal onslaught of memories threatening to return. He could feel his heartbeat begin to race, the pressure swelling to his chest. 

“I think our time is up.” Simon rose swiftly from the couch, his weight leaving an indent behind. 

“Ah — thank you for your time, Simon.” You started, checking your watch to see that there was still fifteen minutes remaining. 

By the time you looked up, he had already disappeared. All you could do was blink, reeling in order to process what felt like whiplash. 

..

In the brief walk from your office to his quarters, every blaring memory was soon dissolved by waves of numbness.

His muscles began to ease in the solitude of his room, vitriolic thoughts fading to a deafening silence. That rush of feelings he just felt — his body became repulsed. Sweat dampened his balaclava as it stuck to his skin, prompting the urge to wash every sensation away.

Simon entered the small bathroom attached to his unit, the dim light almost a comforting sight. Cold water roared from the shower-head with a turn of the knob, and he peeled the mask from his face.

He paused, staring his own reflection.The very sight was enough to drag his consciousness in like a rip tide as he thought back to his younger years.

He almost couldn't recognize his own face.

[restlessmaknae]

veritas vos liberabit // kim junseo

enemies to friends to lovers high school au with a murder mystery + “as far as i’m concerned, that never happened” + wei’s junseo

➳ Characters: high school student!Junseo x high school student!female reader/you

➳ Genre: enemies to friends to implied lovers, dark academia au, boarding school au, murder mystery

➳ Words: 1.8k

➳ Warning: mentions of murder, suicide, cheating (not on the main characters' part), money laundering, bullying

➳ A/N: This story was requested by the lovely @ishuayou for my request event. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

➳ Masterlist for the request event

➳ WEi taglist: @dat-town, @hyu-won, @littlestartonightsposts, @ishuayou, @squiishymeow, @s00buwu

Non scholae sed vitae discimus

This was the motto of the boarding school you attended which means ‘we do not learn for school, but for life’, and more often than not, it proved to be true. In the treacherous hallways of the school, everyone was on their own. Even if certain students formed cliques, they were short-lived forms of alliance until one or more of them were accused of something scandalous. That’s how you had fallen out with two girls after your father - a politician in your home country - was rumoured to be cheating on your mother. You had ‘cheater’s daughter’ written all over your locker in permanent marker the day after the news had gotten out, and students had given you suspicious glances everywhere you had gone as if you had been the one cheating on someone.

Sadly though, you weren’t the only case of castaway isolation. It seemed as if it was a game by now, the target falling on a different pupil every other day. Since everyone came from a wealthy family, each and every one of you could be a target for something. Your father might have cheated on your mother, but one student’s cousin committed suicide and they started asking him if he was next; one student had a CEO as their father who was accused of money laundering; one student’s sister ended up in jail after breaking into a stranger’s house at midnight, drunk and high, and the list went on and on.

You did learn for life, after all. You learned that there were multiple ways one could humiliate another human being, and that you could never trust someone because they only had you in their favour until your picture perfect facade didn’t waver. Once it did, you were as easily disposable as a piece of trash.

That’s why you were wary to let Junseo in when he had first shown signs that he was different. When you had started attending the same school together, you had firmly told him that he shouldn’t speak to you because your families were rivals, so were you. They had both worked in the fashion industry, always coming in the worldwide sales neck-to-neck, and the Kims tried to uphold a perfect family image just like your family did so. You hated every second you had needed to work with him on an assignment, talk to him during Latin classes or sit beside him during modern literature classes.

However, he had been the one who had tried to clean the permanent marker off your locker that one time, and since you had told him to stay away from you, he had to do it out of the goodness of his heart. He had also been the one who had stood up for you when you had needed to go back home for a funeral, and some girls had accused you of going on a vacation during term time. He had been the one to buy you peppermint tea when you had been on your period and hadn’t been able to leave your room due to your cramps.

Little by little, the boy had managed to break down your walls, and if there was someone you would consider as your friend, it would be Kim Junseo himself.

Timendi causa nescire est

Ignorance is the cause of fear, that’s what Junseo told you when a dead body was found on school grounds, and the school committee presumed that it was due to suicide since it happened after midterms. Since the school was in the highlands, and had its own campus with a nursery, two grocery shops, one post office, a stationery shop and a special affairs office (which was supposed to be the closest thing to a disciplinary office), they never notified the police because the school said that it would handle everything by itself.

Besides, your boarding school was said to be an exemplary one, one of the best ones in the world, why would anyone assume anything other than suicide? The deceased student’s parents would most likely want to sweep the news under the rug anyway because suicide was seen as a sign of weakness, especially among your social circle. No one would dare to question what happened.

No one, but you and Junseo.

It’s because Hamin’s - the deceased student’s - locker was above Junseo’s, and on the day the news of his death came to light, Junseo slipped a piece of paper in front of you in a secluded corner of the school library. It read:

“As far as I’m concerned, that never happened.”

“It was tucked into the bottom of his locker, so when I opened mine, it fell out,” the boy explained, and you furrowed your eyebrows in question upon his words.

“Do you think someone had something on him?”

“Or he had something on someone else, and maybe they cornered him on the rooftop. I rather doubt Hamin would have jumped off himself,” he added contemplatively, and you had to give it to him that he was right. If there was anyone in your whole year who didn’t seem affected by the budding ground of hatred and humiliation that the whole school was about, it would be Hamin himself. He was always so carefree and chatty, and he hadn’t been the target of any bullying (a rare case), so he didn’t seem to have a reason to end his own life.

“Maybe you’re right. Hamin is a kind-hearted student,” you started, then corrected yourself after clearing your throat. “He was a kind-hearted student, but he had a loose mouth. Maybe he saw something that he shouldn’t have or knew too much, and it backfired,” you mused out loud, trying to keep your voice quiet in case there were other students around who could eavesdrop on your conversation. After all, you could never know at this school.

You exchanged a glance with Junseo, and you could immediately tell that he was thinking the same: you needed to investigate it or else, no one would do it. So you went up to check on the rooftop, but they closed down the entrance to the rooftop, so you could only peek above the tapes and fences, trying to see if anything was off about the place. Nothing seemed out of ordinary, but it didn’t mean that that was all that was to it.

So you kept up your suspicions, listening in on conversations that seemed relevant, examining students’ body language when Hamin’s death was brought up, and Junseo even tried matching the handwriting on the piece of paper he found to the ones he saw in the teachers’ office when he helped the English teacher correct some tests. At first, nothing seemed to work out, but then, the rooftop was open to the public again, and you found a lighter with ‘CY’ engraved into it.

Even though smoking was strictly prohibited on school grounds, everyone knew that there were students who smoked, and the teachers probably knew about it too, yet let it slide because you all came from wealthy families, and they were paid to teach you, paid a hefty amount on top of them. So they turned a blind eye to most, if not all, breaches.

“Choi Yoonsung?” You quirked an eyebrow in question, pondering whether there was anyone else with the same initials in your year. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he smoked. His family owns a tobacco company after all,” you noted, and even though you had not seen the said boy smoking, anything could happen here. Even a murder.

“I feel like we’re missing something here. Yoonsung couldn’t just throw Hamin over the edge because of his lighter,” Junseo mused out loud while turning the lighter in his hands as if it could help him put the pieces together. It didn’t, but it lit a spark that turned into a full-blown fire.

A wildfire that couldn’t be contained.

Veritas vitæ magistra

You never really believed in the saying that truth was the teacher of life because there were too many two-faced people in your social circle, too many lies and facades, and you could never know when someone was being genuine or they were merely playing their part in the grand charade of boarding school society.

Well, not until you had to discover the truth behind Hamin’s death yourself. It wasn’t easy, and it took you two almost a month to figure out, but when the truth came to light - all your proof put together into a folder and sent to both Hamin’s parents and the special affairs official -, there was no way to cover up anymore what happened.

What happened was that Yoonsung and Soomin had been going out together, but kept it a secret because Soomin had been forced to date a different boy (and keep it long distance while she was at the boarding school) for her family’s sake. Hamin had walked in on them kissing once but said nothing. Then, he had bumped into them on the rooftop that night, and made a joke about them being a power couple at school. Yoonsung had started threatening the boy while the cigarette was still hanging out of his mouth. When the cigarette’s light had gone out while they had been arguing, Yoonsung had tried to light it up again, but Hamin had tried to hold him back. That’s when the boy had pushed him so forcefully that he had managed to push Hamin over the edge of the rooftop. It had always been too short for someone as tall as Hamin, but it had never caused such a calamity before. However, it had been dark, Yoonsung and Soomin had been frustrated already, and the ground had been slippery because of the day’s rain accumulating on the rooftop and along its rails.

How did you come to the conclusion of all these? You had found the note Soomin had left in Hamin’s locker, identified that it belonged to her based on her handwriting, had found Yoonsung’s lighter on the rooftop, had overheard one of Soomin’s friends talking about the girl’s supposedly fake relationship with a foreigner boy outside of school, had stumbled upon a half-burnt picture of the two of them one day on the rooftop, and many more hints like that. It had not been easy, Yoonsung and Soomin had guarded their secret as if it had been their own child, but the truth always came to light.

Veritas vos liberabit was written over the door of the special affairs office that you walked out of with Junseo by your side, and when you looked at each other, you felt your shoulders drop in ease and your heart beating somewhat lighter. Maybe that’s why you let Junseo reach out to you and pull you towards himself, so you could rest your head on his shoulder while you were walking.

The truth will liberate you all.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think.

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for WEi or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[mercair]

"(Sniff) … So this is it…

It's over, isn't it? (sniff)

Everything… is gone now…

… But… (Sniff)

Kris… I know you…

You're not a bad kid. I know you're not.

I know that you cared.

Even if i can't fully understand you…

I know you'll try to do the right thing…

And i will hold on to that truth until the very end…

Veritas Vos Liberabit, Kris.

Kris, i know… That someday, you'll be FREE.

… So please… Allow me to see you perform next time."

…

You got the ShadowCrystal.

You got the SheetRibbon/LunarSword.

[teatro-magico-solo-para-locos]

Et cognoscetis veritatem, et veritas liberabit vos....

@teatro-magico-solo-para-locos

Católico

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Veritas Vos Liberabit [Part 1/3]

The truth will set you free.

F!Builder/Grace; pre-slash

Warnings: Spoilers for the main quest starting from "The Goat", INCLUDING some early Act 3 content.

Also on AO3

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[Summary contains spoilers, so it's below the cut]

Summary: Mission's over. Time to leave.

But maybe there's still some time for one last talk.

One last truth.

---

A/N: I normally write for a nameless builder, so most of you are probably not acquainted with my builder character, Wisteria. There's not much you need to know about her backstory and such for this fic. Just know that she likes being a bit silly when she can be. I typically pair her with Qi, but this idea with Grace just took a grip on my brain and would not go away. Enjoy!

-------------

6:30 AM.

Still an hour before departure.

Grace shivered and rubbed her bare arms. It was cold. This was her favorite outfit. The only one she could keep. The rest were burned last night. Shame it didn’t do well for anything but the desert high noon.

She kicked idly at a stray strand of sand grass on the otherwise spotless platform. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do. No one to talk to except Jensen, and she’d already made enough small talk with him. Nothing to read. She had no books. She had nothing at all, in fact. The bag next to her was empty. Personal effects of any kind outside of HQ had to be destroyed whenever leaving a mission site. Couldn’t risk any fingerprints or DNA traces. The bag was just a prop to make it look like she was just your average traveler. One that traveled light.

From somewhere in the distance, a door opened and closed. Then came a yawn. It was only because the morning was so quiet that Grace could hear it at all. She knew right away where it came from.

She looked up towards Fresh Pines across the tracks, and Wisteria stretching luxuriously outside her door. She finished with a satisfied grunt and looked up at Grace, giving her a wave. Grace waved back. Wis and Jensen were the only ones who knew when she was really leaving. Grace had given everyone else a different time. Luckily Jensen was a man of honor, and kept his lips sealed. And for everything she’d been dragged into, Wis at least deserved one last truth from Grace. That, and Wis was the one she’d wanted to say good-bye to the most.

Wis crossed the tracks with an easygoing gait. She was in no hurry. She knew Grace wouldn’t try to bolt.

“So,” she said as she stepped onto the platform. “It’s really happening.”

“Yep. Feels…weird.”

“Feelin’ that a lot lately,” Wis muttered, the corner of her lips quirking up. She took a seat next to Grace. “About 50 different types of weird, honestly.”

“Hopefully you can start feeling a little more not-weird now.”

“Maybe,” Wis nodded thoughtlessly, staring into the distance. “Maybe.”

Grace hadn’t seen Wis like this in a while. The ease. Shoulders relaxed without the weight of work or battle. A wistful smile. Wis had several “modes” of sorts, Grace learned. This was her “off” mode, the one for relaxing and hanging out. For getting a drink at the saloon and chatting about this and that. For taking meandering walks about town and chittering about other townsfolk.

Made sense why Grace hadn’t seen it in a while. With the whole Duvos situation, she basically had to stick to her “on” or “battle” modes at all times (and one Yan-flavored occasion where she seemed to flip to “murderous intent” mode, but that was only hearsay as far as Grace knew).

When she wasn’t fighting for her life, she was cranking away at her workshop with the same zeal she always had whenever she got her hands on something new to build, only amplified with the new sense of purpose (Trudy had almost made the mistake of leaving Wis and Qi unsupervised. Not even the Light could save you if that happened.).

“Are you…doing okay?” Wis’s voice knocked Grace out of her thoughts. “Everyone’s been asking me nonstop, but I think someone’s gotta ask you. Y’know, knowing…everything about you.”

“Huh,” Grace said, raising an eyebrow. She was trying to bide a little time by filling the silence. Because truth be told, she didn’t know how to answer. She could try to brush it off with a definitive yes, or try to deflect it with a quip. But Wis wasn’t stupid. She could see through that kind of tactic. But at the same time, if she answered no, Wis would immediately get worried and try to get to the heart of the issue, whatever it was. And Grace didn’t know if she had the headspace right now to sort all that out. Maybe she should—

“Grace?”

Shit. Took too long.

Wis was looking at Grace now, a faint look of concern on her face. “It’s okay if the answer’s no…or if you don’t wanna talk about it too much.”

“Uh…yeah.”

Wis nodded without another word, turning back to look out at the desert landscape.

Meanwhile, Grace’s mind was reeling. She’d been caught off-guard. By such an innocuous question. By Wisteria. Pun-loving-laughy-taffy-ever-so-slightly-naïve Wisteria.

How…?

Every fiber of her body was screaming not to ask, but she just had to. “Did…did you know?”

“About what?”

“Me.”

Wis had the gall to look confused. She umm’d and ah’d a bit. “Nooo…?” she said finally, with the most exaggerated shrug she could make.

“…With a question mark?” A twinge of annoyance twisted Grace’s stomach.

“Uh, yeah, with a question mark. It’s like…” She frowned and held up a finger. Her way of asking for a few moments to puzzle-piece the words together in her head. “Okay, it’s like this: no, I didn’t know about who you really were. But I had a gut feeling that kinda…pointed in that direction.”

“Really?” Grace raised an eyebrow. “What kind of gut feeling?”

“Well, it’s just…” Wis’s fingers clenched like they did when she was nervous. “It’s…ugh.” She huffed. “It’s hard to explain a gut feel, y’know?”

Grace just waited patiently. She’d talk. Her eyes were glimmering like they did when she was pursuing a truth she knew she could find. A look Grace had gotten to know all too well in the past several months.

The crease in Wis’s brow eased. “It’s…it’s like you’ve tried so hard to hide something that it’s obvious that something’s there. You try to dig a hole to bury something and dig so deep and wide that everyone can see the loose dirt.” She met Grace’s eyes, her gaze devoid of pity or disdain. Just…a look. “I could never guess you were a secret agent and all that, but…as we hung out more, I started to feel that something was up. Couldn’t tell what it was, though.”

And with a shift in her stomach, Grace suddenly realized that Wisteria was far better at this job than Grace could ever be.

Grace was skilled, undoubtedly. Years of training from the Alliance’s best made her that way. Forced her to be that way. At the drop of a hat, she could put on a new mask, play a different part, advocate for another devil. She could anticipate what someone would say 5 minutes from now, or steer them to say it 5 seconds from now.

She could always extract what she wanted, be it the truth, a lie, blackmail, or a bribe, as long as she built the right front.

But Wisteria…silly, happy, witty Wisty… She didn’t even need the front. All she had to be was her, and everything and everyone would open up to her eventually. Whatever she wanted would find her sooner or later.

She didn’t need to chase the truth she needed, not as relentlessly as she probably thought she did. All she had to do was exist, here and now. The truth behind Duvos came to her because of who she was. The truth about Grace came to her because of who she was.

So optimistic. So determined. So genuine. So clever. So kind. So warm. So…

…

Wis let out a light sigh, the tiniest curve of a smile on the edge of her lips. Grace only then realized that she was just staring at her.

“I won’t pry, I promise. You’ve still got your secrets to keep. You’ve got a right to that. State-protected or not.” Wis said, stretching out her wrists as she always did when her hands were too still for too long.

Grace quickly got her bearings back, letting out a snort. “Heh. Who’s to say which ones are the ones the government keeps?”

Wis chuckled. “Gotta get a big ‘Top Secret’ stamp right on your forehead.”

“Don’t think I can get you clearance on it then, unfortunately.” Grace smirked.

“Well hey, ask your boss while you’re over there!”

“Oh yeah, and make him extra mad.” Grace rolled her eyes, but her tone was light.

Wis just laughed that bright and genuine laugh. Her purest one, not a sarcastic snort or the stupid guffaws she made after her equally stupid puns.

Grace felt a smile slide up her face. A real one, not a calculated reaction.

So silly.

A rumbling grew under their feet. They turned to see the train from Highwind pulling in.

“Atara-Highwind express, bound for Atara!” Jensen bellowed from the other end of the platform. “Passengers for Atara, tickets ready, please!”

Grace looked back at Wis. There was a look in her eyes that she’d never seen before. Strangely sad. Facing the inevitable.

An impulsive thought suddenly shot through Grace’s head.

Come with me.

Wis would make a great agent. She had the natural talent for it. She was just so naturally disarming.

The train slowed to a halt with a hiss.

They both stood up from the bench. Wis turned to Grace with a warm smile.

Come with me.

Grace could vouch for her. Put in a recommendation. Get her the best training instructors at HQ. She could probably start in the field in less than a year.

“This is it, huh?” Wis muttered.

“Yep.”

Come with me.

Wis opened up her arms, raising an eyebrow. Grace stared blankly. Physical affection was discouraged for agents unless used for manipulative purposes. But Wis…

Grace wrapped her arms around Wis’s waist, somehow managing to ignore the urge to just…fall into her. Wis’s arms closed so warm and securely around her.

Stay with me.

“Stay safe, okay?” Wis murmured, her low voice rumbling through Grace’s chest.

All Grace could muster as a reply was a hum.

After what felt like forever and yet still too soon, Wis let go. Grace swore the morning air was even colder than before.

“You got this,” Wis said. “You’ll do great—no, no…” She held up a finger with a familiar glint in her eye. “You’ll do Grace.” And there was that shit-eating grin.

“Shut up!” Grace laughed as she lightly smacked Wis’s arm. Wis just cackled. Like always.

“Allll aboarrrrd!”

Their laughter petered out. Grace’s feet still weren’t moving.

Wis gave her a nod, the smile never fading from her face.

She took a step towards the open train door. And then another.

She could feel Wis’s dark eyes on the back of her head. She had a heightened sense for when people were staring at her, but Wis’s gaze burned especially hot.

She was on the train now. She set her empty bag down a seat and opened a window facing the platform. There was a jolt as the train started to move.

Wis was still on the platform, moving with the train.

“Your boss sucks!” Wis called with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll be sure to tell him!” Grace called back.

“Good! Tell him to give you a raise, too!”

“He’ll raise the bounty on my head, sure!”

Wis doubled over with laughter. She was at the end of the platform now.

“Graaaaace!”

Grace’s head snapped away from Wis. Logan, Haru, Andy, and Owen were all running down Main Street towards the train, waving their arms. How did they…?

“G’luck out there, Grace!” Logan hollered. “Knock ‘em dead!”

“You’re gonna do great things out there, Grace!” Haru called.

“You’re still part’a the gaaaang!” Andy yelled.

“You were the best co-chef I’ve ever had, Grace!” Owen shouted. “We’ll miss your sandy omelets!”

Grace couldn’t help it. Bubbly laughter rose up from her chest. She leaned out the window and waved back, wind whipping her hair as the train sped up.

“I’ll miss you! I promise I’ll come back and visit!” she hollered.

She was too far away now to hear whatever they yelled back. As the train passed the oasis, she looked back one last time at the station.

Wis was still there. Still waving. Still beaming.

Grace found her eyes locked on hers, never looking away until Wis disappeared behind the train as it curved around the bend.

She ducked back inside before she could lop her own head off on the rocks surrounding town, still gazing out the window.

The city’s skyline flashed in and out between the beams of the Shonash Bridge. Grace watched as it disappeared behind Gecko Station, leaving only the giant ruined tower far above the rest of town visible.

Grace still couldn’t peel her eyes away, staring as it too shrank into the distance, before disappearing behind the edge of the tunnel into the mountains.

Sandrock was out of her sights now, but still it stood, stubborn and proud and vibrant as ever.

She sighed and finally took a seat, leaning her head back and staring idly at the train car’s ceiling. The rumble and sway of the train was making her eyes heavy. Normally, Grace knew that napping in a public place was a death sentence. In this line of work, it was full awareness or the business end of a weapon. But in the aftermath of everything, alone in this quiet car, Grace let herself drift off into the most restful sleep she’d had in years.

Though maybe it wasn’t just the relief of the whole situation that made it so peaceful. Maybe it was her dreams. Dreams filled with infectious laughter and familiar quirks and stupid jokes and a safe embrace.

And dreams of a beacon, shining bright with that same laughter and Sandrock’s newfound light.

Calling her home.

------------

A/N: I don't plan to do a longfic for Wisty on the scale of Builder, Researcher, Rooftop, but I do have ideas for some goofy little side adventures for her. Hopefully I can get around to those in the near-future. Thanks for reading!

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[epzen]

Veritas vos liberabit

[robcarpenter3]

Veritas vos Liberabit! John 8:32 (Latín)

#WisdomWednesday #truth #freedom

[heartthatwontquit]

Veritas vos liberabit

[ruwolf]

World Economic Forum (WEF), Genocide en Voedsel. Veritas Vos Liberabit #236