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dracolilhoe · 2 months ago

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To Love Again (Severus Snape x Y/N)

Severs Snape x fem!reader

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Warnings: Starts off a little dark but becomes more light hearted, soft/out of character Snape, mostly fluff, female reader, use of Y/n

Words: +7.5k

Summary: (Based off a request <3)

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

A/N: So this took a lot longer to write and was wayyyy longer than I expected it was gonna be lol but I really enjoyed how this turned out (other than the fact that I kind of gave up toward the end. my birthday is on the 4th bro I was js trying to get this shit completed 😭) and this was a my first request so tyms!! (Im really sorry if this didn't turn out how you envisioned i tried my best! <3) -> Request

1995

As I stir awake, a sliver of sunlight slips through the dark curtains and lands right in my eye. Somehow, this is the best sleep I’ve had in months—and I’m not even in my own bed. With the news of Voldemort’s return and the Ministry scrambling to cover it up, Dumbledore decided it was time to bring the Order back together. He even added a few new members. Myself included.

The house is quiet, which is strange considering how many people are packed into it now. I hear faint movement downstairs—probably Molly making breakfast or Moody pacing like he always does, paranoid that the place will be ambushed any second.

Joining the Order wasn’t something I planned, especially so close to Christmas. But when you see what I’ve seen—what he’s capable of—you don’t stay on the sidelines. You pick a side. And I’ve picked mine, even if that means being a double agent with my husband and putting our lives at risk. I sit up slowly, removing Severus' arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the old bed creaking under me.

I ease out from under the blankets, careful not to wake him. He rarely sleeps this soundly, and I know better than to steal that from him. War has carved deep lines into all of us, but with Severus, it’s in the way his jaw never unclenches, the way he listens to silence like it’s saying something. Right now, though, he looks almost peaceful. Almost.

My feet touch the cold wooden floor, and I shiver. This house, Black’s ancestral home, feels like it’s holding its breath. Grimmauld Place is nothing short of oppressive, but it’s the safest place we’ve got.

I pull on my sweater and head for the hallway, avoiding the floorboard near the door that always groans. The air smells like dust and old wood. Downstairs, I hear a pan clatter, followed by Molly’s low murmur.

There’s a tightness in my chest I haven’t shaken since Dumbledore brought us in. Every morning feels like a countdown. To what, I’m not sure yet. A raid? A betrayal? A message that someone didn’t make it through the night?

I reach the landing and glance back at the room, at Severus. He’d never admit it, but he’s scared. We both are. But fear doesn’t mean you back down. It means you move forward anyway, and I’m already halfway down the stairs.

The stairs creak beneath me, old wood groaning like it resents being walked on. Every sound in this house feels amplified like the place itself is watching, listening. I pass the umbrella stand with the decapitated troll leg and the row of portraits that used to scream every time someone so much as coughed. Someone, probably Tonks, finally found a silencing charm that sticks. Small victories yay!

In the kitchen, the air is warmer. Molly’s at the stove, wand in one hand, spatula in the other, humming something soft and familiar. Her shoulders are tense, though, and she keeps glancing at the clock with all the moving hands, none of which point to “Safe.” She brings it with her everywhere and it's starting to freak some of us out.

She turns when she hears me, a tight smile already on her face. “Morning, dear. Hope we didn’t wake you.” “You didn’t,” I lie. “I slept fine." She studies me for a beat too long, like she knows exactly how heavy sleep has been lately. But she lets it go. “Tea?”

“Please.” I slide into one of the worn chairs at the table, the wood cool under my fingers. There’s a plate of toast already laid out, and I realize just how hungry I am, not just for food, but for something normal.

Voices echo from upstairs, Remus and Arthur, maybe. Something about a meeting. Another day, another strategy session, another list of things we can’t control.

Molly sets a chipped mug in front of me. “Are you managing all right?” It’s not just small talk. It’s the kind of question people ask in war when they want to know if they need to start preparing for grief. I give her a nod and take a sip of tea that’s too hot. "Yeah. I'm managing.”

She pats my hand once, gently, like she knows better. The door creaks open behind me, and I hear the heavy, uneven footsteps of Moody. “Meeting in fifteen,” he growls without looking up. His magical eye swivels toward the corner, “Dumbledore wants everyone.”

Molly sighs and starts clearing the stove. I drain my tea and stand, feeling the weight settle back onto my shoulders. This is what it means to be part of the Order, quiet mornings laced with tension, polite conversation sitting beside secrets, and always, always the knowledge that we’re just one step ahead of darkness.

"I'll fetch Severus."

I head back upstairs, hoping to grab my wand and maybe splash some cold water on my face (and to wake Severus). I pause at the top of the stairs. The hallway is dim, lit only by the pale morning light leaking in through dusty windows.

Our bedroom door is still cracked open. I step inside quietly. Severus hasn’t moved much. One arm still rests where I left it, the other now tucked under his head. His brows twitch like he’s already halfway back in a fight. I get it. Sleep doesn’t come easy when you're always watching for betrayal, even in your dreams. I watch him for a second longer, then turn to the dresser and grab my wand.

The silver handle feels cold in my hand. Familiar. Steady. I tuck it into my sleeve and catch my reflection in the mirror: circles under my eyes, hair pulled back in a lazy knot, an expression I don’t fully recognize anymore. There’s a version of me before all this before the meetings and the lying and the long, quiet looks exchanged over war maps, but she feels like someone I used to know, not someone I still am.

I walk over to the bed shaking Severus awake. "Sev. Sev!" He groans rolling over his eyes opening slightly. "Moody needs us for a meeting in fifteen." "At this bloody hour?" He groans sitting up, a bit of his hair falling into his face.

"Yes, unfortunately. It must have something to do with the children coming for Christmas." I walk over to the dresser grabbing a pair of jeans and a sweater. I jump as a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"We could just stay a bit longer up here darling, they wouldn't even notice we're gone." I chuckle as he plants a few kisses along my neck. "Put your damn clothes on we are here because they need us Sev."

The kitchen is louder now, more voices, chairs scraping, the familiar hum of wizards and witches trying to sound normal in a house built on bloodlines and curses. Sirius leans against the fireplace, arms crossed, jaw tight. He barely acknowledges me. Not out of rudeness, he’s just locked in his own storm.

Remus nods at me as I slip into a seat. “We’re just waiting on Alastor and Snape.” I give a short nod. “He’s coming.” The door opens again, and Moody limps in, muttering to himself. “Too quiet out there. I don’t trust it.”

“When do you ever trust it?” Sirius says dryly. “Exactly.”

I glance toward the door just as Severus walks in, silent and unreadable, cloak billowing slightly as he takes the last empty seat beside me. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, no smile, no nod, just a flicker of shared understanding.

There’s a soft pop, and Dumbledore appears near the hearth, robes trailing, eyes sharper than usual. The chatter dies instantly. “Good morning,” he says, voice calm but firm. “We have a lot to cover.”

And just like that, we’re back in it, talking names, safe houses, coded messages, wand movements, Ministry leaks. Everyone contributes, and everyone listens, but the air hums with the knowledge that everything we’re planning could fall apart by nightfall.

Kingsley runs a hand down his face, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. “We’ve confirmed sightings near Ottery St. Catchpole. Three Death Eaters, possibly more. No casualties, but they’re testing the perimeter spells now.”

Murmurs ripple around the table. Molly stiffens at the mention of her village. Arthur reaches out, touching her arm just briefly. Dumbledore raises a hand. The room stills again. “We’ll need to rotate guard shifts more frequently,” he continues. “We can’t afford to let our protections go stale. Severus," his gaze shifts, “any updates from your end?”

Severus leans forward, elbows on the table, voice low. “They’re looking for something. He hasn’t said what. But there’s movement in the Inner Circle. Lucius is growing reckless. Bellatrix… worse.”

I feel his words like a draft through a crack in the walls. Everyone does. No one asks what “worse” means. No one wants to know. Sirius snorts from the fireplace. “So we’re still dancing blind while they’re planning gods-know-what?” Remus shoots him a warning look. “We’re doing what we can. That’s more than most.”

Dumbledore’s expression doesn’t waver. “We’ll hold ground where we must. But we have another matter to discuss.” A rustle of parchment. A name appears in glowing ink on the air, suspended like a ghost: Draco Malfoy. My stomach knots. Not out of surprise—but because I’ve been waiting for this.

Severus doesn’t move, but I see the way his jaw tightens beside me.

“He’s being watched closely,” Dumbledore says. “Lucius is desperate to keep him protected, but Voldemort has begun to take interest in the boy. If Draco is drawn in, we risk losing whatever leverage we have left with the Malfoy family.”

“And what exactly are we supposed to do about it?” Moody growls. “We’re not babysitters.” “No,” Dumbledore agrees. “But we need eyes on him. Discreet ones.” There’s a silence heavy enough to choke on. I speak before I even know I’m going to. “I can help.”

All eyes turn to me. “Lucius knows me. He trusts me or did. Enough to talk. I can get close to Narcissa.” Severus turns to me, his expression unreadable but something behind his eyes flashes sharp, alarm, maybe. Or something closer to fear.

“I’ll be careful,” I add. “I know how far I can go.” “You’re already too close,” he says under his breath, barely audible. But Dumbledore catches it. He watches us both, eyes thoughtful. “You wouldn’t be alone,” he says gently. “And I trust you to know the difference between risk and recklessness.”

That’s the thing about trust in this house, it’s not a gift. It’s a burden. You carry it like a second skin. The meeting drags on, plans stacking atop each other like unstable towers. Assignments are given. Timelines drawn. When it ends, it does so abruptly, and we’re all left trying to remember how to breathe again.

"Oh and one last thing," Dumbledore says as all eyes turn to him, "Severus, Y/n, Remus, and Sirius when the children come I would like you four to teach and aid them in their dueling skills," We all nod exchanging glances.

Chairs scrape back. Sirius disappears into the hallway without a word. Arthur and Molly exchange quiet words near the sink. Tonks fidgets with a broken spoon. And Severus... Severus doesn’t look at me I just follow him up the stairs.

Inside our room, he closes the door and just stands there for a second. Silent. Still. His back to me. “You shouldn’t have volunteered,” he says finally, voice low. Controlled. “Not for that.”

“I can handle them,” I answer, just as quiet. “And you know it.” He turns slowly. “That’s not the point.” I meet his gaze. “Then what is?” He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at me like he’s measuring something—distance, maybe. Risk. What it costs to love someone in wartime.

“They’ll use you,” he says finally. “The way they always do. And when it comes down to it, Dumbledore will sacrifice you if it means tipping the scale.” “I know,” I say. And I do.

But I also know that I’d do the same if it meant saving even one of those kids who’ll be walking into this house later with their trunks and their scarred hearts, pretending it’s still Christmas. “I picked this side,” I remind him. "Your side."

He steps toward me, slow and deliberate like we’re back on a battlefield. Maybe we are. “Then let me protect you,” he murmurs, voice almost breaking. “You already do.”

And in the silence that follows, in the quiet ache of the room, I let him pull me in because out there, it’s strategy and secrets and sacrifice. But in here, for just a breath, it’s something else. It’s what we’re still fighting for.

The front door creaks open sometime after noon. Laughter echoes down the hall—too loud, too bright for this house—but welcome all the same.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear Harry first. “Same miserable wallpaper. Same creepy elf heads.” His voice is tired but dry, amused. “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ron mutters behind him, dragging his trunk over the threshold. “Mum’s already got a to-do list longer than my arm. And Moody's breathing down everyone's neck like it’s a sport.”

Hermione follows just behind, trying to wrangle Crookshanks back into his carrier with one hand and hold her bag with the other. “Honestly, Ron, it’s not about comfort. It’s about safety.”

“Comfort would be nice too,” Ginny cuts in, brushing snow out of her hair. “One Christmas where no one gets cursed, cursed at, or nearly killed would be an improvement.”

From the landing, I catch Harry’s eyes. He blinks up at me, then offers a small smile. A tired one, but real. “You look taller,” I say, stepping aside to let them through. It’s something to say, something normal.

“Not sure about taller,” he replies. “Just older.” He’s right. They all are. You don’t come back from this fear-stricken world like this and stay untouched. Even Ginny, always quick with a quip, has a shadow behind her eyes. I've only ever met them all once before, so we aren't that familiar with each other, but they all seem like lovely kids.

Molly rushes in from the kitchen, apron on, arms open. She gathers them up one by one, fussing, scolding gently, hugging too long. The hallway fills with warmth and voices, boots thudding, trunks scraping.

Severus appears beside me silently, eyes sweeping the chaos with practiced detachment. But I catch the way his fingers twitch near his wand when Fred drops something with a loud crash.

“Relax,” I murmur. “That was just a box of—” “Exploding Snap cards,” Fred calls from the floor. “No actual explosions this time, promise!” Severus doesn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch just slightly. “Merlin help us all,” he mumbles and vanishes back down the hall.

By dinner, the long table is packed, mismatched chairs pulled in from other rooms. The kids eat like they haven’t had a full meal in weeks—which, judging by the state of Hogwarts, might not be far off.

There’s laughter again, real this time, layered over the clink of plates and the smell of roast chicken. For a few brief moments, it almost feels like Christmas.

But underneath it all is the quiet hum of what’s coming. Dumbledore hasn’t said it outright, but we all know this is the calm before another kind of storm. The kids are safe, for now. But safe is a temporary state in this war. And Grimmauld Place, for all its wards and silencing charms, can’t keep the world at bay forever.

Later that evening, Remus gathers them in the drawing room. “Tomorrow, we start dueling lessons,” he says, voice calm but direct. “Not because we want to turn your holiday into homework, but because the world outside these walls won’t wait for you to grow up.”

“Too late for that,” Harry says under his breath. Hermione nods. Severus steps in from the shadows. “You’ll be paired. Rotated. Watched. No improvising.” He casts a look at Fred and George. “No fireworks.”

“Who, us?” George grins.

Sirius lounges in the armchair, legs kicked out, watching everyone like he’s not sure whether to feel proud or protective. Maybe both. I take a seat on the edge of the sofa and pull out my wand. “Tomorrow, we’ll test your reflexes. For tonight, just don’t hex each other over the last mince pie,” I tease. Ginny raises a brow. “No promises.” They laugh. It’s light, but underneath, I feel it again—that tightness.

The dishes are mostly cleared, the fire’s burning low, and the rest of the house is beginning to settle into a wary kind of peace when I feel a tug on my sleeve. It’s Harry. He doesn’t say anything at first, just jerks his chin slightly toward the hallway. Away from the others. Away from the low murmur of Sirius and Remus arguing softly about training plans. Away from the way Severus is pretending not to listen from the corner of the room.

I nod once and follow him. The hallway is dark and cool. The only light comes from a lone, flickering candle floating near the ceiling. Harry leans against the wall, arms crossed, the worn fabric of his jumper stretched tight across his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of everyone, and I since we don't know each other that well I know you won't lie or try to protect me like everyone else does,” he says, voice low, a little rough around the edges. “But... how bad is it?”

I exhale slowly. There’s no point pretending. Not with him. Not with everything he's seen already. “Worse than the Prophet says. Worse than the Ministry will ever admit.” He kicks the heel of his boot against the floor once, a sharp, frustrated tap. “I figured.”

There’s a silence between us that isn’t awkward. It’s heavy. Real. He looks up at me then, green eyes fierce under the mess of his hair. “Are they going to come for us here?” I could lie. It would be easy. Safer, maybe.

But I don’t. “They might.”

Another beat. He absorbs it like someone learning to live with a wound that won’t heal. “Good,” he says finally. It startles me a little, and my eyebrows raise. I frown. “Good?”

He straightens off the wall, jaw set. “I’d rather they come here. Where we’re ready. Where we can fight.” There’s something in his voice—not bravado, not anger exactly. Just a grim certainty. A kind of steel that shouldn't belong to someone so young, but here it is anyway.

“You’ll have to be smarter than them, not just braver,” I warn. “Dueling lessons aren’t about flash and showmanship. It’s about surviving. It’s about finishing the fight before they even know it’s started.” “I know.”

And I believe him. God help me, I do. I study him for a second longer, the stubborn line of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders, the bone-deep tiredness he wears like armor. “You’re not alone in this, Harry.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Doesn’t always feel that way.” “No,” I agree. “It doesn’t. But it’s still true.” A shadow crosses his face, something raw, unspoken. I think he wants to ask something else. Maybe about Voldemort. Maybe about the parts of this war, no one wants to say out loud.

But instead, he just nods and says, “Thanks,” before slipping back toward the drawing room, shoulders squared against whatever comes next. I stand there a moment longer, alone in the hallway, listening to the fire crackle faintly behind the door.

The next morning breaks cold and grey. No surprise there. Grimmauld Place never really feels like it’s breathing, even on good days. By the time I make it down to the drawing room, most of the others are already there. The furniture’s been shoved to the edges. Rugs rolled up. Floor cleared. It looks less like a home and more like a dueling arena. Which is exactly what we want.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione are lined up, wands in hand, faces set. Fred, George, and Ginny flank them, fidgeting with nervous energy. Molly’s hovering at the doorway, wringing her hands until Arthur gently steers her away with a whispered, "Let them be."

Severus is standing near the fireplace, black robes sweeping the floor, arms crossed like he’s already judging them. Which, to be fair, he probably is. Sirius is pacing. Restless. Coiled tight like a spring.

“All right, listen up!” Sirius says, clapping his hands once. “First rule of a real duel: you don’t wait for your enemy to bow. You strike first.” Severus’s mouth curls into a cold smirk. “A philosophy befitting a reckless Gryffindor.”

Sirius turns, already ready to bite. “And what's your tactic, Snape? Bore them into submission?” “Enough,” I cut in, stepping between them before either one pulls a wand. “This isn’t about you two chest-thumping your old grudges. It’s about them.” I jerk my chin toward the kids. “And whether they survive what's coming.”

Sirius’s jaw flexes. Severus’s eyes narrow. But both stay silent. “Pair up,” I call. “Two across from two. Wands at the ready.” Harry and Ron square off instinctively. Hermione and Ginny trade a quick look before taking opposite sides. George hesitates until Fred claps him on the back and steps into position.

I walk the line, pacing slowly like Moody taught me. "Spellwork first. Control before power. If you throw a curse without discipline, you're not just endangering your enemy. You're endangering yourself."

Sirius snorts quietly but doesn't argue. “Stunners to start,” I say. “Basic shield spells allowed. No counterattacks until I say.” They nod, faces tightening with focus.

“On three. One… two… three—” The room explodes into motion.

Bolts of red light crisscross the room. Shields flash up. Shouts echo off the high ceiling.

George’s shield charm shatters instantly under Fred’s hit, and he goes sprawling backward with a yelp. “Get up!” Severus snaps from the fireplace. “You think a Death Eater will wait for you to dust yourself off?”

George scrambles up, face burning.

“Focus, George!” I say, softer but firm. “You’re better than you think.”

Harry’s already adapting, side-stepping Ron’s stunner and sending one back with a twist of his wrist that would’ve made Moody grunt in approval.

Hermione’s quick too, blocking Ginny’s shot neatly—but she hesitates a second too long to counter. In a real duel, hesitation kills. “Don’t wait for permission!” Sirius calls. “If you’ve got a shot, take it!”

Severus tenses visibly. "And get yourselves hexed into oblivion by lunging like amateurs? Typical." "Better to fight like hell than cower behind a textbook!" Sirius barks back. "Better to win," Severus hisses.

The kids freeze between them, caught in the crossfire of something that has nothing to do with today's lesson and everything to do with a history they can't see but can definitely feel.

"ENOUGH!" I snap, my voice ringing off the stone walls. Silence crashes down. Sirius glares at Severus. Severus stares back, cold and cutting.

I look at the kids. Their faces are pale and tense. This is not what they need.

“This is real training," I say, voice steady. "Not a pissing contest. Learn from both styles, because out there, you’ll need every edge you can get.”

I turn back to them fully. “Again. Harder. Smarter. And this time, move like your lives depend on it.”

I shoot a sharp look at Remus. He catches it, understands immediately, and steps in front of the kids. “All right, pairs switch!” he calls out smoothly, clapping his hands to break the tension. “New partners. Keep your guard up!”

The kids hesitate, glancing at us, but Remus waves them on. Slowly, they shuffle into new pairs, wands up again, throwing cautious spells under his steady watch. I grab Sirius and Severus by the elbows and haul them toward the far corner of the room, out of earshot.

The second we’re out of range, I round on them. “What the hell was that?” I snap, keeping my voice low but lethal. “Are you both mad?” Sirius opens his mouth, but I cut him off with a glare sharp enough to slice.

“No, you don't get to explain. You don't get to excuse it.” I jab a finger at his chest. “This isn’t about you and your teenage grudge against Severus. This is about them—” I jab toward the kids, where Harry just barely blocks a hex from Fred. “—learning to survive a war!”

Sirius’s jaw works furiously, but he doesn’t speak. Good. He knows he’s on thin ice. I turn slightly toward Severus. “And you,” I say, voice cooling but still hard. “You’re not off the hook either. If you can't keep your disdain on a leash, get out of the room.”

Severus inclines his head stiffly, dark eyes flashing once, but he says nothing. No argument. No excuse. I whirl back on Sirius, stepping in closer. “You're supposed to be better than this, Sirius. You're Harry’s godfather. Do you think he needs to see you losing control like some first-year who can't take a slight? You think that’s what will keep him alive when Death Eaters are throwing real curses at him?”

He flinches slightly at that—barely—but I see it. Good. Let it sting. “You want to protect him? Then act like someone worth following.” Sirius stares at me, breathing hard, hands clenched into fists at his sides. But he says nothing. And that's the only reason I don't rip into him even worse.

I step back, my chest tight. “This is bigger than your pride,” I say, voice quieter but sharper. “Bigger than your hate. You don’t have the luxury of grudges anymore.” Severus shifts beside me, mouth twitching in something quite like a smirk, but I barely catch it.

“And you,” I add, giving him a pointed look, “don’t mistake his mistakes for your permission to be a bastard.” A faint raise of Severus's eyebrow. A very slight, almost imperceptible, nod. Across the room, Remus calls out a correction to Hermione’s footwork, completely ignoring us. Bless him.

“Now,” I say, voice cutting final. “Get your shit together—or get out. I won’t let you two tear this place apart.” I hold their gazes for a beat longer, daring either of them to argue. They don't.

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and walk back toward the kids. They need focus. They need strength. Not whatever bloody mess Sirius and Severus have been dragging around like a ball and chain.

Behind me, I hear Sirius mutter something under his breath, but it’s low and bitter and meant for himself, not for me. Severus follows a second later, silent and dark-eyed, slipping back into the shadows near the hearth. The kids don’t even look up. They’re too busy ducking and blocking and casting.

Remus gathers them back into a circle after another round of sparring, his voice calm but carrying weight. “All right,” he says, lowering his wand. “Change of plan. You’ve practiced defense. Now it’s time for offense.”

The kids straighten instinctively, a ripple of energy moving through them.

I cross my arms, watching.

Severus stays leaned against the wall, silent but alert. Sirius lingers near the fireplace, brooding, but at least keeping his damn mouth shut. “New exercise,” Remus continues. “You’ll work in pairs. Your goal is to disarm or disable one of us—me, Snape, or Y/n—before we disarm you.”

A few eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—us against you three?” Fred asks, incredulous. A rare smirk flickers across Severus’s mouth. “If you find that unfair,” he drawls, “you may want to reconsider your odds in actual combat.”

Remus only smiles, patient. “You have surprise on your side. Use it.”

Ginny’s eyes spark with something dangerous. Harry’s jaw sets. They’re ready. Or as ready as they’re going to be. Remus and I exchange a quick nod. He moves to the center of the room.

Severus shifts lazily from the wall, his wand sliding easily into his hand.

I roll my shoulders once. Let’s see what they’ve got. Remus gives a sharp whistle. “Begin!”

At first, it’s cautious — they scatter, dodging between broken chairs and rolled-up carpets. Whispered plans. Quick glances. But then Harry moves—fast. A sharp flick of his wand sends a bright stunner toward Remus, who parries it easily.

Ginny dives low, rolling behind an overturned settee. Fred and George create a distraction, hurling smoke bombs that erupt with a loud bang and a cloud of purple mist. Typical. But clever.

I raise my wand, clearing the smoke with a slicing spell—and that’s when I see her: Ginny, darting from the side. Before I can fully block, a hex hits my wand hand—not strong enough to disarm me, but enough to jar my grip. Impressive.

I fire a mild shield charm in return, forcing her back, but out of the corner of my eye— Harry. Moving like a shadow. I pivot, readying a block—too slow. His Expelliarmus hits me dead-center. My wand flies from my hand, clattering across the floor. For half a second, the room freezes.

Then Sirius lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Well, I’ll be damned!” Remus smiles, lowering his own wand slightly.

Severus’s face is unreadable, but his black eyes flicker toward Harry and Ginny, calculating. I retrieve my wand with a small bow of my head toward Harry and Ginny. "Well played." Harry looks stunned for half a breath like he hadn’t believed he could do it.

Ginny just grins fiercely, panting a little, cheeks flushed. Fred whoops from across the room. “That’s our girl!” "Oi!" George elbows him. "And Harry!" Remus raises a hand for quiet. "This," he says, voice steady, "is what survival looks like. Not bravado. Not reckless spells. Strategy."

Harry and Ginny glance at each other, something solid and unspoken passing between them. Severus speaks finally, voice soft but cutting. "Next time, aim for the throat."

I laugh, and Sev cracks a smile. It’s brutal. It’s honest. And exactly what they need to hear. The room stays still for a moment longer, the fire crackling in the silence. This isn’t about winning practice duels. It’s about preparing for the night they won’t be warned first.

"All right let's take a quick break and meet back here in about an hour." The others break off —Fred and George tossing mock insults, Ron rubbing his shoulder and muttering about “bloody insane stunners”, Ginny and Hermione chatting low and fast.

I’m gathering the leftover dueling mats when I feel someone hovering behind me. “Can I—uh—can I ask you something?” Harry says, voice a little rough, a little awkward. I straighten, nodding once. “Of course.”

He hesitates, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His wand is tucked loosely into his belt; he looks younger now, out of the heat of the fight. More unsure.

“It’s about... Snape.” He says the name like it tastes strange. I stay still. Careful. Neutral. “What about him?” Harry looks around once, making sure we’re alone. Sirius and Remus have disappeared into the hallway, voices low. Severus is nowhere in sight. Good.

Harry shifts his weight. “You trust him." It’s not quite a question. Not quite an accusation either. Just raw curiosity. And something sharper underneath hurt maybe. Fear. I don’t answer right away. I slip my wand into my sleeve and lean back against the table, crossing my arms.

“I trust him with my life,” I say finally. “I trust him with yours, too.”

Harry’s brow furrows, suspicious, almost wounded. “But why?” His voice cracks just slightly on the last word, and I realize this isn’t about Severus. Not really.

It’s about everyone Harry’s ever trusted letting him down. He wants a reason not to hate. He wants a reason to believe. I meet his eyes fully. “He’s not your friend, Harry. He’s not here to make you feel safe. He’s not here to like you. But he is here to keep you alive. And in the end, that matters more.”

Harry’s mouth twists like he wants to argue but can’t quite find the shape of it. “He’s risked more than you know,” I continue, voice steady. “More than he’ll ever tell you. And he’s still risking it. Every time he steps back into that world, every time he sits at a table with monsters and pretends to be one of them, he’s betting his life that we’ll win.”

Harry looks away, jaw tight. “It’s not about liking him,” I say, softer now. “It’s about understanding the price he’s paying to stand here on this side of the line.” He drags a hand through his hair, rough and frustrated.

“I just... it’s hard to forget everything.” “I know.” I pause. “You’re not supposed to forget. Just don’t let it blind you.”

He looks up at me, and for the first time I see it—the crack running down the center of him, the fear underneath the anger, the hurt underneath the defiance. He’s still just a boy.

But he’s carrying the kind of burdens grown men would break under.

“If I didn’t believe he was on our side,” I say quietly, “I wouldn’t be here either.” Harry lets out a shaky breath.

"Okay," he says finally, voice low. Not quite convinced. But willing to try.

It’s the best anyone could ask for. I reach out and squeeze his shoulder once, brief but firm. “You’re allowed to be angry, Harry. You’re allowed to hate what he’s done. Just don’t hate what he’s doing now.”

He nods again, sharper this time. More certain. Without another word, he turns and heads toward the stairs, shoulders hunched against everything still waiting for him. I watch him go, my chest tight. One day soon, he’s going to understand just how much Severus has sacrificed for him. And one day soon, it’s going to cost all of us more than we want to give.

But not today.

The hour flies by faster than expected. The kids trickle back into the drawing room, looking a little more rested—and a little cockier after their earlier success.

Fred’s juggling two cushions with a Wingardium Leviosa charm, George is trying to distract Ginny with a fake wand that keeps sprouting daisies, and Ron looks suspiciously like he’s hoping to skip this next round entirely.

I’m adjusting the ward lines along the floor when Severus sweeps in, black robes billowing, a fresh scowl already carved into his face like he’s thrilled to be doing this again.

“Ready to embarrass yourselves?” he drawls, voice slicing the room neatly in half. Sirius lounges against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You know, Snivellus, you could try encouragement sometime. Might stop people from ducking when you enter a room.”

Severus doesn’t even look at him. “Your continued breathing is encouragement enough.” Fred snorts loudly. Hermione coughs to cover her laugh. I roll my eyes and step between them before it escalates.

“All right. Same drill—defense first, offense later. And no funny business,” I add, staring pointedly at Fred and George, who try to look innocent and fail miserably.

We spread out. Remus waves his wand, conjuring more padded mats across the floor. “Standard stunners and shield charms to start. Nothing lethal, thank you.” We pair off. Ginny with Harry. Hermione with Ron.

Fred and George.

Severus is stalking the edges of the room, wand drawn, barking sharp corrections. "Elbow in, Weasley!" "Stronger shield, Potter!" "Granger, less hesitation—your enemy won’t be patient."

I stand off to the side, arms folded, letting them get into a rhythm before I join in. That’s when it happens. Fred and George—because of course it’s Fred and George—start sparring a little too wildly. One of them fires a rogue hex that ricochets off Hermione’s shield, bounces off a mirror, and slams into me and Severus simultaneously.

For a split second, there’s a blinding flash of white-blue light. A sound like a rubber band snapping through time. When the smoke clears, the room goes dead silent.

Because standing where I had been— —and where Severus had been—

—are now two very confused-looking teenagers. Severus is skinny, sharp-angled, with a mop of greasy black hair nearly falling into his narrowed black eyes. His school robes are rumpled and his wand arm tensed like he’s ready to hex first, ask questions later.

I glance down at myself. I’m 15 again too. Brilliant. “What the—where the hell are we?” I snap instinctively, patting myself down for my wand (still tucked in my sleeve, thank Merlin).

Severus whirls toward me instantly, all tension bleeding out of him in one second flat. "Y/n?" he says, voice shockingly soft compared to the venom he just spat at Sirius minutes ago. "You okay?" he asks, stepping toward me, frowning like the world might actually end if I’m hurt.

The kids look like they’ve been hit with a Confundus Charm. Harry’s jaw literally drops open. Hermione makes a tiny squeaking noise.

I blink at Severus. He looks... young. And worried.

And very much not the terrifying man everyone knows him as. "Yeah," I say, breathless with surprise. "I'm fine. Are you?" He relaxes fractionally at that, lips twitching into what could almost be a smile.

"Wouldn’t leave you alone in this dump even if I was bleeding out," he mutters under his breath, voice so low only I hear it. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

Because fifteen-year-old Severus Snape is ridiculously earnest under all his prickly armor. And I’m realizing with horrifying clarity that this is how we must've fallen in love the first time.

Meanwhile, Sirius is staring like he’s seen a ghost—and he does not like it.

“What the bloody hell is this?” he demands, pointing at us. Severus instinctively steps half in front of me. Protectively. I glare at Sirius, stepping up beside Severus.

“Maybe if you weren't such a reckless idiot, we wouldn't be standing here, Black, and god did you not age well!” Sirius bristles instantly. “Oi—”

“Touch her and I’ll hex you into next week,” Severus says, deadly calm.

Sirius actually looks offended.

Harry tugs at Remus’s sleeve, whispering frantically. “Is he—? Are they—? Friends?” Remus looks absolutely delighted. “More than friends, if you ask me.”

Meanwhile, Hermione is scribbling notes on a scrap of parchment like she’s documenting a rare magical phenomenon. Ginny nudges Harry. “I think she just made Snape smile. I didn’t even know he had the muscles for that.”

Severus scowls at the room at large, still staying close to me like he’s ready to throw curses at anyone who looks sideways. I nudge him lightly with my shoulder, forcing a teasing smile onto my face to hide my complete and utter panic at the situation.

“Um, what exactly is happening?” Ron asks, looking wildly between me and Severus like we’ve sprouted extra heads. “It appears,” Remus says, with the kind of forced calm that only makes it funnier, “they’ve been turned back into their fifteen-year-old selves. They seem to remember some things, but I think the longer they stay like this... the more they’ll forget.”

“Oh, brilliant,” Harry mutters. “So, what—are we supposed to just pretend everything’s normal?” Across the room, Severus glances around, unimpressed. “Is this some kind of pathetic club meeting?” he sneers, arms crossed but still hovering a little too close to me like I might vanish if he blinks.

“No,” I cut in before he can get more acidic. “It’s dueling practice, genius.”

He perks up immediately at that, dark eyes lighting with interest. “Finally. Something worth my time.”

Fred nudges George. “Ten Galleons says he forgets he’s supposed to teach and just hexes someone for fun.” George snickers. “Make it twenty.”

Remus, wisely, just sighs and raises his hands. “Carry on, then.” Severus spins toward me, tilting his head with mock seriousness. "Partners?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Obviously." He offers me a dramatic little bow, smirking the whole time. It’s stupid and its so out of character for him but it's still adorable. It’s very much not the Severus Snape these kids know.

I can feel the students gaping behind us. Hermione whispers furiously to Ron, "He bowed to her! When has Snape ever bowed to anyone?" Ron just makes a helpless, strangled noise. "Alright, let's begin before these two start to forget everything," Remus announces.

Sirius stiffens, about two seconds away from launching himself across the room. I shoot Sirius a razor-edged grin. “What’s wrong, Black? You finally met someone who doesn’t find you charming?” I say sweetly.

Ginny loses it, barely muffling her laughter into Hermione’s shoulder. Even Harry looks like he’s struggling not to smile. Sirius scowls like he’s been personally insulted by the universe. Fred whispers to George, "I love her."

George whispers back, "Same."

“Enough talking!” Severus snaps, but there’s no real bite to it. “Wands up!”

He faces me, and for a second there’s nothing but fierce, electric focus between us.

Then—wham—he fires a nonverbal hex that I barely block. “Ooh, dirty move, Snape!” I laugh, countering with a spell that sends him staggering back a step.

He grins—grins—and lunges right back at me, fast and graceful and clearly holding back only because he doesn’t actually want to hurt me.

The kids watch, stunned, as we spar.

It’s fast. Fluid. Almost like a dance. No hesitation. No cruelty. Just two people who know exactly how the other moves. “You know,” Hermione whispers to Harry, “this is the least miserable I’ve ever seen him.”

Harry watches Severus, who ducks a hex from me with an easy, boyish laugh—completely different from the rigid, scowling professor they know. “Yeah,” Harry mutters back. “It’s... weird. But kinda cool.”

Meanwhile, Sirius keeps grumbling under his breath, “He’s showing off. He’s absolutely showing off.” At one point, Severus ducks behind me to dodge a fake curse from Fred.

Sirius, meanwhile, looks ready to hex a wall. Through all of it, Severus just gives me a look—half dare, half devotion—and I feel my stomach flip the way it hasn’t since I actually was fifteen. We’re a disaster.

We’re going to be an even bigger disaster the longer we stay like this. And Merlin help everyone because neither of us is anywhere near ready to admit it yet.

The next half hour is absolute, glorious disaster. Fred and George keep "dueling" each other, but really they’re just trying to sneak closer to eavesdrop on me and Severus.

Hermione’s still trying to organize actual drills, bless her, but Ron keeps getting distracted every time Severus "accidentally" brushes his hand against mine again. Ginny’s full-on cackling now, pretending to duel Harry but missing half her shots because she keeps looking over her shoulder and whispering, “Did you see that?! Did you see what Snape just said to her?!”

Harry, to his credit, is trying very hard to be mature about it. He mostly fails. Meanwhile, Sirius is about two seconds from combusting. He stands off to the side, arms crossed, glaring daggers at young Severus like sheer force of will might turn him into dust.

“Unbelievable,” Sirius mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Absolutely unbelievable. He's flirting. Snivellus is flirting.” “And doing a better job than you ever did,” I shoot back without thinking.

Dead silence. Severus outright laughs at that—sharp and rare, the sound surprising even him. He flashes me a grin so quick, so private, that I feel it like a hook behind my ribs. Sirius looks personally offended.

Remus just sighs deeply like he’s aged ten years in two minutes. “All right, enough,” Remus says, stepping between us with a forced, strained smile. “Maybe... maybe we should take another break.”

“You said that an hour ago,” Fred points out, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “This time I mean it,” Remus says through clenched teeth.

He pulls out his wand and mutters a diagnostic spell under his breath. Golden threads of magic swirl around me and Severus, flickering slightly at the edges. "Hm.”

“Hm?” Hermione asks sharply, lowering her wand. Remus hums again. “The age-reversal spell is... strengthening. They’re slipping more into their fifteen-year-old selves the longer it holds.”

“Meaning?” Harry presses, stepping forward. "Meaning,” Remus says, looking slightly pale, “we need to reverse it. Soon. Before they forget everything—including the Order, Voldemort, and what side they’re supposed to be on.”

Severus perks up at that word. “Voldemort?” he repeats, frowning deeply. “What’s he got to do with anything?” I frown too, my forehead creasing. The word sounds familiar, important. But it doesn’t click the way it should.

Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Right. Right. Definitely time to fix this.”

He pulls Sirius aside, murmuring rapid instructions about fetching some old counter-curse tomes from the Black family library. Sirius grumbles but stomps off, clearly glad to have an excuse to leave the room before he says something that’ll start a duel of his own.

“Are we... are we sure we want them to turn back?” Ron whispers to Hermione. Hermione looks torn between horrified and fascinated. Before any of us can say more, Sirius bursts back in, slamming a huge, dusty spellbook onto the table. “Found it!” he snaps, flipping through pages aggressively. Remus leans over his shoulder. “Hurry.”

Sirius flips through the spellbook with the kind of frantic energy normally reserved for full moons and house fires. “Counter-curse, counter-curse, bloody hell, where is it—?” “Page 394,” Remus says calmly without looking.

Sirius glares at him but flips anyway—and sure enough, there it is.

Meanwhile, Severus has moved closer to me again, shifting nervously from foot to foot like he’s working up to something he’s never said out loud before.

A blinding flash of golden light erupts from the table where Sirius and Remus finally cast the counter-curse. I feel it hit me like a tidal wave—yanking me forward, back, spinning through a lifetime of memories slamming into place.

The Order. The war. The betrayal. The blood. The love. The weight of everything we fought for. I gasp, stumbling, catching myself on the edge of the dueling mat.

Severus staggers too, clutching his head for half a second before straightening—taller now, leaner, sharper. Older. Haunted. He blinks once, twice—and his face slams shut like a vault. All softness gone. All vulnerabilities locked away.

The room is dead silent. I stare at him, heart still racing, memories crashing over me like surf. I remember. He remembers. Everything.

Severus exhales slowly through his nose, cold and composed again, tugging his robes straight like a shield.

Behind me, I hear someone—Fred, maybe—whisper, “Merlin, that was brutal.”

Harry looks stricken. Hermione bites her lip so hard it goes white. Sirius, bless him, mutters, “Still the same miserable git.” But I see it. In the flicker of Severus’s dark eyes.

“Right,” I say briskly. “Practice is over. Everyone out. Now.”

The kids scatter like birds, even Fred and George not daring to joke right now. Sirius lingers just long enough to shoot Severus a filthy look before Remus drags him out by the elbow, murmuring something about giving them space.

Finally, it’s just me and Severus again. And the vast, bruised silence between us.

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thecorefrisk · 3 months ago

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I need more Maribat fics that actually explore the whole ‘Marinette grew up with death and destruction being a temporary thing’ and the way that outside of the whole stalking part of her personality, she’s actually the ideal superhero.

Give me a Marinette who, when she fights, tends to permanently injure her opponent since she’s so used to fighting akumatized people whose injuries just heal when she fixes everything in the end or don’t get injuries at all even from the heaviest of hits. She’s the girl with the plan that always just works somehow. She’s clever and creative, which is a pretty deadly combo in superhero types.

Give me a Marinette who doesn’t know her own strength. When she holds your hand, the callouses on her palms are startling to say the least and you can just feel the strength in her arms when she flexes her fingers. As much as a lot of her miraculous probably softens the look of her arms and legs, making them look toned rather than defined and bulky (as they should be), you can’t just go through all the rigorous amounts of exercise and work Marinette goes through and not have your body be affected, even with magic considered.

Give me a Marinette whose morals are a bit askew. Some might say ‘but she’s so justice driven!’ However, I raise you this, autism. Autistic people, such as myself, also tend to be very justice oriented people and yet my morals ARE a bit askew. Im not a completely morally white person. I don’t think everyone should be saved. I don’t think everyone should get to live. I love helping people! I think people are great! But I also have the belief that some people should be killed and I’m half willing to do it myself. Now, this isn’t true for every autistic person, of course, but I am trying to make a point.

There’s also the whole reviving thing. It would take her a while to truly understand death as a concept again after years of Hawkmoth. So, when Jason reveals his whole ‘I died’ thing, Marinette is mostly like ‘oh, yeah, me too lol’. She’d be more horrified by what led up to his death than the death itself in this concept.

Also, are we ever going to address the cat sized elephant in the room? ‘Copy-Cat’? The man who was in love with Ladybug even though it is later revealed that everyone knows that Ladybug and Chat Noir are teenagers?

I want that addressed. Like a LOT. Specifically by Dick because he went through a LOT of sexualization during his later years as Robin then as Nightwing. (Still goes through it tbh.) And he would probably make it clear to her that the guy’s obsession with her was NOT cool and she should definitely stay far, far away from him. It could be a moment where she allows herself to acknowledge that something bad happened and that it wasn’t okay that it happened and everyone stood around and smiled. Because the guy’s behavior is never actually addressed as creepy. The moment he had with Chat wasn’t Chat telling him to back the hell away because the guy was clearly a lot older, it was a moment where Chat was making a guy with a fascination with Ladybug jealous.

I want this to lead into Marinette silently rethinking the whole thing with Master Fu as well. Because she had been spending an unspecified amount of time with a grown man, at his house, without her parents knowledge, and none of her friends knowing either. (I believe, I haven’t watched the episodes that he’s in a while.) The point is, that situation could have turned out so badly. I’m aware this is a kid’s show but realistically something bad could have happened. And Marinette knows this because she imagines trying to explain this to Nightwing or Red Hood or any of the Batfam and immediately winces.

Nothing bad happened and Master Fu would never but it could have. It could have and that’s the point.

I just- I want Marinette explored not as a miraculous character but as a DC character if that even makes sense. Because as a miraculous character, all they focus on is the whole Lila and Hawkmoth thing but as a DC character her entire life would be focused on.

And as a DC character, the batfam would likely not discourage Marinette’s little stalking habits. In fact, they might (accidentally or otherwise) encourage them. Because they are kind of stalkers too. Between them, boundaries don’t exactly exist even though they are set. I’m not saying they’re all terrible creepy people! But I am saying is that Marinette memorizing Adrien’s schedule and breaking into his house like once or twice is pretty tame compared to the whole thing the batfam has going on.

(Again, I’m not saying it’s GOOD, I’m just saying that it does exist and that the batfam wouldn’t exactly go out of their way to discourage Marinette’s very bat-esque flaws unless in a hypocritical manner as they shove their own stalker boards into the unknown.)

Yeah, Marinette would fit right in a vigilante group. (How Adrien fits would be an entirely different matter.)

#batfamily #dc x mlb #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #idk #I just think she deserves the DC character treatment #I also think this for the rest of the miraculous cast #maribat

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narryffdreaming · 1 year ago

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — THREE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART THREE: 6,9k words Author’s note: ngl I thought this was "too short", and then I saw it's around 7k and realized that maybe this isn't short, but the other parts are just "too long", lol. Clearly I can't control myself. But anyway, this is part three and Aurora and Harry (finally) arrive in Italy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)

PART ONE || PART TWO

As it turns out, both Aurora and Harry completely forgot about the one hour time change, so whilst they thought they'd arrive around eleven, by the time they landed in Naples it was actually a few minutes after 12.

They realized, then, that since they would go together to Amalfi, sharing a taxi would be cheaper than taking the train — like they had both initially planned to do. Which is how Aurora ends up leaning against a white wall at arrivals, watching their bags while Harry wanders around and does some research for them.

Outside, the day is bright and sunny, something she's been admiring non-stop through the huge glass wall in front of her. Rays of light keep the exposed skin in her arms and chest warm, so there's no need for her to wear Harry's jacket anymore — although a part of her wishes she still had a reason to, just to keep smelling his cologne.

"Hey!" Harry calls, and Aurora turns her head to the side.

He approaches her confidently, pulling his hair back and smiling while strutting through the airport as if he owns the place. It's kind of impossible not to follow every one of his movements, and she's pretty sure anyone who lays their eyes on him would think exactly the same.

"It's done," he says, then raises both hands and gives her a double thumbs up. "Got us a taxi."

Summer looks good on him. It makes his skin glow, it highlights his tattoos, and it makes his happiness seem… Well… Even happier.

"Oh," she says, blinking and stepping away from the wall. "Great."

She clears her throat and glances to her phone, double-checking for the fiftieth time that her texts to Zack remain unanswered.

It's been over four hours since she texted him, and although she isn't surprised by his lack of interaction, she can't deny that it sucks to know he intentionally avoids replying to her texts — and that she probably won't hear from him until Sunday night, when he drops Noah off.

"No words from him yet?" Harry asks, now standing only a couple of steps across from her.

Aurora shakes her head and locks the screen, then looks up and faces him again.

"No… But hey," she says, offering him a sarcastic smile and fake enthusiasm as she adds, "if I'm lucky enough, maybe he'll pick up the phone tonight. Isn't that great?"

Harry pauses for a moment.

And then he snorts.

He flicks his gaze down and breathes in, filling his chest with air while taking one hand up to his face and rubbing his brow.

"Jesus Christ," he murmurs and chuckles shakily, almost as if he can't believe what he just heard.

Aurora feels herself softening in front of him, and her fingers itch to touch him somehow.

"I mean, it's okay," she says, tightening her phone inside her fingers and closing her other hand into a fist. "I knew this would happen when I decided to spend the weekend away."

Harry drops his hand to his side and shakes his head, then looks at her again.

Bright, sunny, warm summer seemed to turn into dark, cold, empty winter around him. He's clearly tense, and the look in his eyes is heavier now.

"For his sake," he says, voice sounding just as deep as she feels him in her bones. "I really hope he doesn't cross my way anytime soon."

It's unbelievable how quickly Aurora's mouth fills with water. As if she's salivating because of him.

The way he soaks up her worries and eases her sadness is certainly endearing, but the way Harry physically reacts to this specific situation gets her nerves stirring. He seems to be ready to stand up for her. Ready to fight the battle for her. Ready to be her armor and shield her from all and any attacks that Zack throws at her.

And as much as Aurora doesn't want things to get to that point, and as much as she isn't looking for that kind of attention from a man, the honest truth is that her insides respond too quickly to his behavior. Like she's craving for that aggressiveness. Or maybe like she's craving for someone to finally treat her the way she wishes to be treated. Someone who will throw a punch for her, and not at her.

Even just metaphorically speaking.

Aurora blinks, breaking away from the intensity of his stare as she hunches down and grabs her bag from the floor. She takes the opportunity to swallow all those new feelings down, hiding and locking them away, then stands upright again.

"I appreciate that," she says, curling her lips into a smile. "But we're in Italy right now, so I think I'm ready to leave Zack behind. At least for two days."

Harry focuses on her for a moment, flickering his eyes all over her face. Studying her. Almost like he's making sure she is telling him the truth.

She tilts her chin down and lifts her left eyebrow, and Harry meets her stare once again.

"You're right," he says, and closes his eyes. "Gimme a minute."

Taking all the time of the world, Harry breathes in deeply through his nose. When his chest is full, he freezes for a moment, and then lets all the air slip out through his mouth. Loudly and heavily.

It's a little bit dramatic. A little bit over the top. A little bit exaggerated. But Aurora can tell that he's intentionally forcing his movements. That he's getting on board with her and leaving things behind. And that he's making a big deal out of it because it's supposed to be a symbolic moment between them. Like drawing an imaginary line and setting a before and after for that trip.

Especially when he rolls his shoulders, tilts his head side to side vehemently, and then drops all the weight off his body.

"Ok," he says, opening his eyes while clasping his hands together and smiling at her. "I'm good!"

He leans down to grab his bag, too, and a foolish grin grows on Aurora's face.

"As I was saying," he adds, placing the strap on his shoulder as he looks at her again, "I got us a taxi. It's supposed to be just an hour and a half drive, but they said it can take us at least two hours to get there."

Meaning they will get there around what… 2:30? 3?

Aurora pouts.

"That sucks. Lucy had this whole thing planned in the morning."

"I know. But we'll make the best of it, anyway."

"Yeah…"

She puts her phone inside the front pocket of her bag, then looks around the airport.

They're still inside the crowded terminal, and it's safe to say that she has no idea where she's supposed to go next. She's been following Harry's steps since they landed — or maybe even since they took off — and she isn't actually interested in taking the lead right now.

"So… Where should we go, then? Can we get this taxi now or…"

"Mhm… Yes… We sure can…" Harry nods. "But first… There's something I have to tell you."

Aurora's face falls, and she drops her shoulders.

"Oh God… What?"

"It's nothing bad�� At least I don't think so, but…"

Harry scratches his jaw and shrugs, then smiles sheepishly at her.

(Which, to be honest, does nothing to reassure her.)

She rearranges the bag on her shoulder with one hand, and encourages him to speak with the other, rolling her fingers in the air.

"But…?"

"Well… I might've lied a bit to the guy from the taxi company."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes. "Why? What did you say to him?"

"That we just… Y'know… Got married?"

Aurora drops her jaw.

"Married?!"

Harry chuckles.

"Mhmm..."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah…"

His face is bright with amusement, and even though Aurora can't understand what's so funny behind that joke, she can't help but mimic his emotion.

"Harry!" She laughs. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Because he gave me this whole speech, ok? About how he couldn't get us a car 'till five, and how we should've booked one at least one day before and… Well. Y'know…"

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at the lecture he got because of their poor planning skills, but the joy is still there. All over him. Radiating from his entire presence. Blooming into her.

"I see." Aurora nods, pursing her lips as she mulls over his words. "And us being married changes that because…"

He pulls his eyebrows together, as if the answer is the most obvious thing and he can't believe she's even asking that. "Because we eloped, duh. So of course we didn't have any time to plan or book anything."

"Oh my God."

Aurora laughs.

"So I guess this is our honeymoon now."

"You're insane."

"Hey, it worked, ok?" He raises the palms of his hands to her, then smirks, all proud of himself. "We didn't have a taxi, now we have one. So… You're welcome."

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest, but the smile never falters from her face.

"Fine. Whatever. Anything else I should be aware of about this lie?"

Harry takes a moment to think about it, hiding his hands inside his pockets and then shrugging.

"Nah… Don't think so."

"Good."

"Only that you're madly in love with me and couldn't wait to be my wife."

"Right."

"But that's pretty obvious."

"No, yeah. Of course."

"You also can't wait to get our honeymoon started, by the way."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep. So you're kind of desperate to get to our hotel."

Aurora snorts. "Okay then."

"Apparently," he says, stepping closer and nudging her side with his elbow, "you just can't get your hands off me."

She cackles, then, and shoves him off with one hand. "You wish!"

The small joke rolls easily and happily from her mouth. Mostly because she's determined to not ruin things all over again, but also because he brings that side out of her.

And Harry laughs, too.

"Hey," he says, shrugging and tilting his chin up, "a man can only hope."

"You're ridiculous."

"I mean, it gets you laughing so… Yeah. I'll take it."

She shakes her head, finding herself out of words. Even if she knows they're both just teasing around and that she doesn't need to worry about him misinterpreting her, there's only so much she can joke at once.

Unlike Harry, of course, who apparently can roll lie after lie out of his mouth.

"Ok, c'mon," he says, tilting his head and leading their way from arrivals to outside the airport. "They said there'll be a car waiting for us."

Aurora follows him in silence, and then she clears her throat.

"So, you really told them we got married?"

He smiles, and nods. "Yes."

"And they really think we're going to a hotel?"

"Mhmm." He looks at her over his shoulder and shrugs. "I didn't want to get into the whole yacht thing… Seemed too much trouble to explain."

"Right." She smirks, and raises her eyebrows. "But creating a lie about our marriage was easy-peasy, right?"

Harry purses his lips, clearly trying to hold himself back.

"I mean… Yeah. Had the whole story on the tip of my tongue."

They both look at each other for a moment, and then they both laugh.

See? That's the good thing about Harry: he makes Aurora laugh.

And he makes her laugh a lot.

Which isn't exactly news, because he always made her laugh, but still feels nice to remember.

Back in the day, the way Harry and Niall lived their lives used to be one of the reasons why she liked to hang out with them so much — they didn't have too many worries in the world, and they only cared about having fun. So whilst most people around her were planning for their futures and preoccupied about having everything figured out, they made her laugh about the most silly and random things, offering her a break from the pressures and expectations of adult life.

Of course, their lifestyle wasn't one that she could keep up with all the time, and at certain moments their behavior used to resemble childishness, but they definitely were good and fun people to keep around.

So much so that here's where they are right now.

"C'mere, wifey," Harry says, stepping out to the sunny day and pulling her to his side by her shoulders. "Time to give our driver a show."

She grimaces, then places her arm around his waist.

"Okay," she says, narrowing her eyes and adjusting her sight to the warm and natural brightness, "rule number one, you're not calling me wifey."

Harry squeezes her shoulder and laughs, throwing his head back and slowing their pace down.

"Right. Ok." He nods. "What should I call you, then?"

"What about… Nothing?"

"Oh c'mon! You're my wife now. We need to play the part." He guides her smoothly down the sidewalk, dodging strangers and skipping through a long line of white cars. "Does honey sound better? Or what about apple of my eye, huh? Cupcake? Pumpkin?"

She chuckles. "Harry—"

"Buttercup?"

"Stop."

"Kitten?"

"Ew, no—"

"Other half? Or what about…" He leans closer to her ear, then covers his voice with sweetness and cheesiness as he annoyingly murmurs, "My lovey-dovey?"

At that, Aurora cackles.

"Oh God," she laughs, squirming and shoving him off. "Stop. No nicknames for you."

"Ahhh, why?" He pulls her closer again, exuding pure joy and happiness as he speaks. "Nicknames are fun. I can be your honey bunny if you want me to."

"Absolutely not."

"Honey boo?"

"Nope."

"Lover boy, then."

"C'mon… You can't seriously—"

"Man of your dreams?"

Aurora snorts, but before she can say anything, Harry speaks again.

"Prince charming? Jellybean?"

"Harry, c'mon—"

"Hot stuff?"

"Stop!"

"Babylicious?"

And then she laughs again. Probably way louder than she should. Leaning into him and covering her face as she struggles to keep up with his feet.

"Oh my God! You're just so annoying. I can't even—"

"Mr. and Mrs. Styles?" a thick italian accent calls, and they both stop walking.

Aurora is still laughing, trying to catch her breath while she turns her head to the side. A gray-haired man dressed in a black suit steps away from a black car and walks forward, holding a polite smile and gentle expression as he approaches them with nothing but determination.

Harry squeezes her shoulder and leans in, getting closer to her ear.

"If you ask me," he murmurs, and the tone of his voice is suddenly so low that it becomes almost painful, "that should be the one. Mrs. Styles."

A shiver runs down her body, and she swallows.

"Scusi," the man says, thankfully sparing her from having to find any responses or reactions. "Signor e signora Styles?"

"Giusto!" Harry says, squeezing her shoulder and chuckling as he straightens his posture and pulls her closer to his side. "Signor e signora Styles. Sì."

"Piacere! Come stai?" The man stretches his arm, and Harry takes a step forward, shaking hands with him. "Sono Francesco, il tuo tassista."

"Francesco!" Harry smiles. "Buongiorno! Mi chiamo Harry e questa—" He squeezes her again, making a deal out of it as he kisses the top of her head. "È mia moglie, Aurora."

Aurora bites her lip, watching in silence as the man turns to her and stretches his arm once again.

"Aurora. Piacere. Un nome bellissimo."

"Uh…"

Truth be told, she has absolutely no idea what's going on, or what they are talking about. So she chuckles nervously, but makes sure to shake his hand anyway.

"I don't…" She says, tilting her chin up and glancing at Harry. "Sorry. I don't speak Italian."

Harry's expression softens, and the playfulness in his face turns into pure tenderness.

"Oh. No problem," the man says, the Italian accent still thick as he communicates in a different language. Aurora faces him again, and he adds, "Aurora, sì? Beautiful name."

"Oh." She smiles, cheeks getting slightly warm. "Uhm… Gra… Grazie?"

She turns to Harry, again.

"That's thank you, right?"

Still staring at her, Harry smiles, then nods.

Aurora looks back at the man.

"Grazie," she repeats.

"Non c'è di che! Andiamo, sì?"

Aurora tilts her chin up, looking at Harry and waiting for him to take over the conversation.

He shakes his head, then, and turns his attention back to the man. "Sì. Andiamo. Sì."

The man chuckles. "Sposi novelli, eh?"

"Mhm."

"Congratulazioni! Lo immaginavo. So riconoscere lo sguardo di un uomo innamorato."

Harry chuckles and looks down, then scratches his jaw with his free hand and clears his throat. "Così ovvio, eh?"

Aurora doesn't know if it's possible, but she feels her own eyes twinkling as she tilts her chin up and lands her gaze on Harry one more time.

He beams under the gorgeous sunshine, eyes greener than she's ever seen and cheeks flushed as he engages into a conversation with that man. Not only rolling Italian words out of his mouth, but also effortlessly putting them into sentences.

And she's so hypnotized by the whole thing, that she can't even be bothered by the fact that she's not being included or doesn't understand a single thing. She'll gladly let him take the reins for the entire drive as long as she gets to entertain herself with that view.

"Auri?"

Harry squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora blinks. She darts her eyes away from his face, swallowing while he steps towards the car and slides his arm off her shoulders.

"Shall we?" he asks, reaching for the strap on her shoulder.

Aurora is too starstruck to fight him, so she nods and lets him grab her duffel bag, then follows him with her eyes as he and the gray-haired-suited-man place it in the trunk, along with his.

And from then on, Harry plays his part like a true gentleman.

Their driver starts by opening the backseat door for them, but then Harry offers his hand for her to hold and get in first, kissing her temple when she walks past him. She chuckles, but only because of the effort he's putting on just to cover his own lie.

Once they're both inside, he doesn't complain about taking the middle seat when she chooses the window, and even makes sure she's comfortable and has her belt on.

"Possiamo andare?" the gray-haired-suited-man asks.

Harry peeks at her. "Good to go?"

"Mhmmm..."

He nods, then puts his belt on while answering their driver. "Sì, grazie."

The engine starts working, and they're officially on the move to the Amalfi Coast.

"Can I?" Harry whispers to her, hovering her hand with one of his.

"Oh…" Aurora looks at his inked forearm, reaching for her while he keeps his elbow tucked to his side. To be fair, after sobbing into his chest and sleeping on him like a koala, she truly doesn't think holding hands would be awkward at all right now. So she nods and turns her palm around, offering it to him. "Yeah, sure."

And when he places his palm on top of hers and intertwines their fingers, she can actually see herself benefiting from his lie — because Harry's warmth keeps her warmth, as well. Just like she needs to be. Just like she wants to be.

"Credo che Amalfi ti piacerà moltissimo," the man says. "È perfetto per gli innamorati!"

Harry chuckles and scooches down, comfortably spreading his long legs open and pulling their hands to rest on his thigh. "Grazie. È la nostra prima volta in Italia."

"Per quanto starai qui?"

"Solo due giorni. Domenica torniamo a casa."

Aurora is lost in the conversation, but she's also… Physically uncomfortable. Her arm is tense as she stretches it to lay on his leg, and she doesn't want to spend two hours like that. So she shuffles closer, tucking her elbow under his own and fully linking their arms.

"Bene, dovrai tornare un'altra volta per visitare più città," the man says.

Harry sits upright again, then slips his fingers off from her hand.

"Di sicuro," he says, lifting his arm and placing it across her shoulders. "Forse la prossima estate."

He takes his other hand to her palm, then, and intertwines their fingers once again.

It's like they need a moment to get comfortable and find a position that suits both of them, but eventually they get there. With Aurora melting onto his side and him brushing patterns on the skin of her arm.

The man nods and smiles, but says nothing, and silence finally settles in the car.

Until Aurora takes that as an opportunity to speak again.

"So…" she starts, watching their touching hands. "Did I miss something important from your private conversation?"

He freezes next to her. Stiffening his muscles and stopping the movements of his hand on her arm.

"Shit. I didn't even… Sorry." He spreads his hand open on her shoulder, and squeezes her gently. "We were just chit chatting about the city, that's all. But I'll keep in mind to translate now, yeah? Sorry."

"It's fine." She smiles, appreciating the sentiment.

To be honest, she doesn't really care. She wishes she had prepared herself a little bit better for a new country and a new language, that's for sure, but at least she's with Harry now. It will be a lesson learned for the next time — if there ever is one.

"When did you learn how to speak Italian, anyway?"

A smile grows on his face, and he tilts his head to lean it on top of hers.

"I don't know." He shrugs slightly, resuming the brushing of his fingers on her arm. "My mum… I learned from her, that's all."

Aurora frowns. "Is she Italian?"

"Uh… No, she… I mean, my grandfather was."

"Ohhh… Didn't know that. So you've always spoken Italian?"

"I guess? I don't know. I just can find my way around it… That's all."

Aurora hums, and turns to look through the window, admiring the view of a country she's never been to before.

And then she shrugs, making sure she sounds teasingly when she says, "Well… Now that you've brought up your mum, then I guess it'll be inappropriate to mention how incredibly hot and sexy you sound when you speak Italian, right?"

Harry chokes.

He literally chokes. Straightening up and coughing while letting her hand go to smack his palm on his chest.

Aurora sits upright as well, holding back a smile as she tries to catch a glimpse of his face and murmurs questions like "what's wrong?" and "are you okay?".

The driver says something, too, and Harry shakes his head, raising his free hand waving a finger at him.

"I'm…" He coughs again, and brings his hand to his throat. "Sto bene—" (cough) "Grazie."

"Ugh, see?" Aurora murmurs, leaning against the backseat and grabbing his hand on her shoulder, making sure he doesn't pull his arm away. "Told you. Incredibly sexy."

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Cough.

"Shit."

Cough.

Aurora giggles.

Yep. That's actually pretty fun.

They park at what first seems a dead-end street, but in reality it continues turning right and going up the hill.

Aurora gets out of the car slowly, feeling the hardness of the concrete under her feet as she straightens her back and tips her neck back. The sun is shining, and she rests the side of her hand on top of her eyes, blocking out the brightness and taking in the view — the hills, the rocks, the shades of green, the colorful houses and buildings.

She places her free hand against her breastbone, and slowly releases the air inside of her lungs. She doesn't want that surreal feeling to end, so she stands frozen in the spot for another moment, or two.

She's heard about people going through moments when all their concerns and worries fall away, but it has never been a first hand experience of hers. Not until that day, at least.

The closest she can imagine to that feeling was the moment she finally physically met Noah, the exact second his tiny crying body was placed between her arms. That didn't last too long, though, with her body hurting and the exhaustion taking over every inch of her — both emotionally and physically.

Earlier that day, when she woke up snuggled into Harry's arms, she also experienced something very similar to that — the same sense of calm and peace. Then again, it also didn't last too long, since she knew she was overstepping and had to pull herself from his embrace.

(Besides, to be fair, she isn't sure if it's the same thing, or if she's just really confused right now.)

Still, there she is right now, standing in an unknown city, where she doesn't know anyone and can't even speak the language, feeling as if all of her concerns and worries have fallen away. It's pretty similar to those other two occasions, only this time the feeling doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

It feels as if it's settled to stay.

The trunk of the car slams shut, and Aurora turns on her feet.

On the other side of the taxi, Harry chats excitedly with their driver. And behind them, opposite from the city, is the ocean.

It's a little after three in the afternoon, and they are finally at Marina Coppola, the port of Amalfi.

The gray-haired-suited-man looks at her and nods, saying things she can't even try to understand. The only words she somehow recognizes are "amore", and "buona giornata", but still, she isn't sure she really knows what they're supposed to mean.

So Aurora simply smiles, watching as Harry does — once again — all the talking for both of them.

"Grazie!" he says, clasping one hand on the man's shoulder and firmly shaking his hand. "Anche a te!"

The driver raises one hand at her, and she lifts one hand, too, waving and blinking slowly as he gets inside the car.

Harry moves to the sidewalk with both duffel bags, and Aurora waits for the man to drive away before getting closer to him.

And then she reaches for her bag, but Harry dodges her and taps her hand away.

"Nuh-uh, Mrs. Styles."

Aurora's cheeks warm up, and she rolls her eyes.

During their ride, their driver referred to her as Mrs. Styles more than a few times. He'd ask questions about the view, or chit chat about the weather and ask her opinion about it. And Harry, of course, would be the one to always translate the questions, making sure to not only include Mrs. Styles, but also emphasize it.

"Well… Marriage is over, so…"

She shrugs and smiles, but maybe her joke hits a little too close to her heart, because she doesn't feel like fighting him anymore. Instead, she allows her curious eyes to shift around and capture as many details as she can.

It is nice to see the ocean again. Long, wide, far-reaching. She's also seen a restaurant at the marina's entrance, and although the street is filled with cars, there aren't many people walking.

She remembers Lucy explaining in their group chat how they chose a weekend in May exactly because of that — because it wouldn't be so filled with tourists, but the weather would still be perfect for a swim. Aurora can't deny she'd been scared of rain ruining their plans, but the sun is, in fact, shining with no signs of any clouds around — which is probably also helpful to set that magic scenario around them.

And as Aurora admires the postcard worthy sight, it dawns on her that Amalfi looks exactly as she has seen in pictures. Maybe the colors aren't as bright and intense as Instagram usually made it seem, but it is still colorful. Still captivating, still mesmerizing.

Being there, she can actually smell the fresh water, the fish, and the sunscreen. She can also feel the prickle of sunburn on her arms, and the wind pulling at her dress and her hair. She can even actually hear the small waves, the boats motoring past on their way to water, and the laughter and excitement of people at the docks.

The atmosphere is real, and yet still impossible to describe. It fills her with life, with hopes, and with dreams.

It is… Surreal.

Magical.

"This is unbelievable," she finally murmurs. Her voice is soft and delicate, though — as if she doesn't want to break the spell surrounding them.

"I know," Harry says, mimicking her tone. "'S really beautiful, innit?"

She turns her head to look at him, and finds him watching the hills across from them, the same ones she was watching just minutes before. She can see him furrowing his brows under his sunglasses, his head moving from one side to the other.

"Yeah," Aurora breathes out.

Harry is beautiful. The daylight makes his skin look tanner, and the wind messes with his hair, too — although he doesn't seem to mind. And the facial hair glows on his face, somehow screaming at her how grownup he is. Somehow turning into a reminder of how good he took care of her, of how good he made her feel.

Shit.

She swallows, and faces the port again.

Can she still blame these thoughts on her lack of sleep?

Maybe she's being delusional. Maybe she is still so confused that she doesn't know what is reality or dreaming anymore. Or maybe she's spent so much time without interacting with any men that she doesn't know what's friendly or not anymore. Maybe she's mixing things up. Maybe Harry has just been protective of her. Like Theo and Niall are.

Shit.

The wind pulls her hair to her face, and she takes her arms to put her locks into an improvised knot.

Hundreds of various-sized boats are lined up along the docks, and they are all so different from each other that she realizes she's never stopped to think about their different names.

Are they boats? Are they all yachts? Is there even a difference? And what would that difference be?

"So…" she says, pausing to clear out her throat and rub the tip of her nose. "A ferry is one of those that you can get into with your car, right?"

Harry glances over his shoulder, watching her silently for a moment.

She can feel his eyes on her face, but she resists the temptation of looking at him.

And then he nods and turns around, standing next to her and facing the ocean as well. "Yeah… Have you ever been in one?"

Aurora shakes her head.

"No… I remember from the movie 'How to lose a guy in ten days'. Have you seen it?"

He turns his head and stares at her in silence once again, until a loud laugh erupts from him.

She turns her head, too, and tilts her chin up, looking at him.

"What?" she asks, lifting her left eyebrow.

"Sorry… It's just…"

He shakes his head and scratches his jaw, waiting until calming down before explaining himself.

"Oh God… You made me watch that movie soooo many times," he says, voice filled with amusement while he tilts his neck back and looks at the sky.

Aurora keeps her eyes on his shoulder, focusing on the flamingos in his shirt.

"I did?" She frowns. "I don't—When?"

"Movie nights at your place, remember?" He pulls his hair back, smiling at her, and then at the horizon. "We used to do them once a week for a month or two. Usually everyone fell asleep and we were the only ones awake. Somehow, you'd end up always making tea and putting that DVD on."

He shrugs, as if recalling that memory it's just the most common thing in the world.

To Aurora, though, it isn't.

"Wow…" She blinks, staring at the port again. "I can't… I honestly can't believe how many things you remember and I don't."

"Oh, it's okay, we were—"

"No, it's not. It makes me feel like shit."

"Auri—"

"You know I really like you, right?" she asks, focusing on the way the waves crash against one specific boat. "It's not you… I mean, I don't remember so many things, it's like I blocked stuff from my memory, but it's not because they didn't mean anything to me… I promise. I've always enjoyed our friendship, I just—"

Harry places his hand on her shoulder, and Aurora twists her neck to look at him.

"C'mon…" His sunglasses are on the top of his head now, pulling his hair back, and he stares firmly into her eyes. "I don't expect you to remember the same things I do, ok? We're fine. Everything's good. You don't need to be so tense about everything you do or say. Not around me, at least. Ok?"

"Okay…" She nods once, then twice. And then she shakes her head. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."

"Okay," he repeats, a smile forming on his lips and his hand slipping away from her shoulder.

Aurora can still feel his fingertips burning on her skin, though, and it dawns on her that, after spending the entire drive holding his hand and relaxing under his arm, now it's weird to not be able to just… Touch him again.

"And just so you know," he adds. "I've been on a ferry. A couple of times, actually."

Aurora gasps, then grins at him, gladly accepting the change of subject.

She asks when, and where, and why, and Harry chuckles. He answers while putting his sunglasses back on, then keeps the conversation going as he leads the way to the docks and to their friends.

And they walk together, of course. All the time.

There's a white arch they have to get through, and Harry raises his arm, gesturing for her to go first. She smiles shyly, looking at him over her shoulder as she steps onto the aluminum gangway.

She walks across what looks like a green carpet before getting to the actual dock — a narrow wooden path stretched out into the water and leading to all different yachts — and then they are walking side by side again.

Always side by side.

Even when they have to dodge people on the way, some simply standing and chatting, some prepping their boats for sailing, some just returning to land.

Then it gets to a point where all Aurora can see are bare masts reaching into the sky, birds flying, and ropes around their feet.

They turn left on the dock, and sweat trickles over the back of her neck, just like her inner thighs sting from brushing against each other. She sighs and scratches the tip of her nose, listening to Harry as he chats about how he stopped eating meat a while ago, but was willing to eat fish again during the weekend.

Aurora nods at him, and then the growl of an engine starting up makes her jolt and gasp. She widens her eyes and takes her hand to her chest, and Harry chuckles next to her.

She rolls her eyes and relaxes, smiling as she pokes his side with her elbow. "Shut up…"

He nods, pursing his lips and stopping himself from laughing even more.

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Styles."

"Ughhh. I won't be hearing the end of this anytime soon, will I?"

"See? That's why I married you. You know me too well."

She snorts, and then Harry slows down walking.

"Ok, all jokes aside now. Aurora Fletcher, are you ready to have some fun?"

Aurora smiles.

To be fair, she's been having fun for a while now, but her body still sparkles with excitement at his words. So she moves her head quickly in agreement, just to make sure Harry can see it. "Yes, please."

"Good, because if my eyes aren't messing with me," he says, raising his arm to point out ahead of them, "I think those up there are our friends…"

Aurora looks up, tilting her chin and squinting her eyes when the sun strikes right into her line of view. Like she did before, she places the side of her hand against her eyebrows, blocking the brightness and blinking to focus where Harry seems to be pointing at.

When she recognizes the silhouette of some of their friends, she realizes they aren't just on a yacht — they are standing at the top floor of a massive, luxurious yacht.

Aurora's mouth falls open, her eyes seem to bulge out of her face, and her body freezes.

"What the hell?" she murmurs.

Or, in other words, what the hell were Lucy and Theo thinking?!

"Now I see what Niall meant about it blowing my mind," Harry says next to her. "Fuck yeah, this is gonna be great! C'mon."

His joyful and energetic voice is enough to wake Aurora up from the half-conscious state she's fallen into, but he still puts his hand in between her shoulder blades and pushes her slightly, encouraging her to move along with him.

"They're waiting for us, yeah? It's gonna be fun, but if it gets too much let me know and we'll just take a break from everyone."

Aurora blinks.

"I don't… I don't know if I'll be able to," she blurts out, not moving her feet from the spot.

Her eyes are still wide open, but she darts them up to stare at Harry.

He pulls his sunglasses back to the top of his head and takes two steps closer, standing right in front of her and letting their bags fall to his feet. His figure is tall enough to block the movements ahead from her view, allowing Aurora to focus on him, and only him.

"I mean—" She shakes her head, organizing her thoughts. "I don't know if I'll be brave enough to ask for help."

Harry nods, and a wave of understanding engulfs Aurora's body. She drops her shoulders, and her eyebrows, then lets a long breath out of her nose.

"Maybe we could come up with a sign then, yeah?" He puts his hands right above her elbows, then gently moves them up and down. Rubbing her upper arms and soothing her down.

"A sign?"

"Mhm. Just, y'know, something to let each other know we could use some company? For both of us… Maybe I'll need it, too."

Aurora chuckles and rubs her forehead, knowing damn well he won't need it.

Still, she nods.

"Maybe, okay… Yeah."

"Good. Any suggestions?"

"Hmmm… I don't know. Pinching the tip of the nose?"

"No, nuh-uh." Harry shakes his head. "You already do that a lot."

Aurora frowns. "No I don't."

"Trust me, you do." Harry tightens his fingers around her arms, then loosens them up. "Scratching our jaws? I mean, your jaw… You scratch yours, I scratch mine…"

Aurora purses her lips, and his own mouth twitches in amusement.

"You know what I mean…"

"Yeah…" Her eyes wander around his face for a moment, and she sighs. "But no, because that's something you already do a lot."

Harry turns the corner of his mouth into a smirk, and Aurora squeezes her hands into fists to stop herself from poking the dimple on his cheek.

"I do?"

She shrugs. "Mhm."

"If you say so…"

He stays put inside her eyes, capturing her inside a mesmerizing green spell and forcing her to just wait there. Powerless and helpless. With no other option but to stare back at him.

Letting time go by — letting time run by.

As if they weren't already late.

As if they weren't the last ones to arrive.

As if they didn't have a massive, overpriced yacht waiting for them.

"What about our ears, then?" he offers, his voice huskier and somehow slower.

Aurora swallows. And her stomach flutters just as much as her chest tightens.

"Y'know," he adds, then takes a step closer. "You tug yours, I tug mine…"

He moves one hand, letting go of her arm as he drifts it to her face.

He touches her cheek first, breezily, then slides to her ear, brushing her skin in the process and making it tingle.

Aurora holds her breath, and as she stares at him, she feels her earlobe being touched by two of his fingers.

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again, she drifts her sight to his mouth. Unconsciously and unintentionally.

Harry slides his tongue between his lips, getting them wet before he turns them into a smirk.

"Like this," he murmurs, then gives her ear a little tug.

Shit.

Aurora looks back at him.

Everything he's doing right now feels soft, intentional, and… Extremely and weirdly right.

There's a feeling deep down her stomach that she's unable to name. Maybe a flush, maybe a tingle, or maybe a throb. Or maybe all of them.

She can't describe it, she can't understand it.

She can't name it.

But it's there, and it's doing things to her. Things she hasn't felt in a very long time.

"Hm? What do you say?" he asks, so softly it almost makes her whine.

Her heart picks up, and she doesn't think she'll be strong enough to move away from his touch. Not then, not ever again.

"Okay," she whispers. "Yes."

His smirk turns into a smile, and he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against her forehead.

It only lasts a second, and then Harry pulls away from her and hunches down to pick up their bags.

W—What?

Why…

Aurora blinks at him.

Why did he stop?

Why did he move away?

"It's settled, then," Harry says. "C'mon, let's get this party started."

Hiii :)

I thought about adding some more scenes here, but tbh I feel like these two should be together and get all the attention, so this is where part 3 officially ends. Next part it's a long one and includes meeting all of their friends, so I hope you've enjoyed their last moments by themselves hehe 🤭

Thanks for reading!

Dani

(if you've made it here, pls talk to me and say Francesco lol)

PART FOUR (I)

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction

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fluffynoelle · 1 month ago

Text

turns out i use tumblr now so uhh intro post time! :D

hi everyone! my name is noelle!! (i also like lel as a nickname) you can use she/they/it pronouns for me tho i (usually) prefer she/her :] - im 16

im gonna post whatever i feel here which is either gonna be my art (somehow becoming one of my bigger hobbies??? didnt expect that xD) and maybe some memes idk lol

media i love (like a lot):

deltarune (i made a program to teach myself to read wingdings - this one miiiight be my fav XP)

the owl house (fav show)

gravity falls

pokémon

zelda

jojo's (fav anime)

lethal company

wait i thought there was more XD

^ i would prob include some other things if i was any good at finishing new things lol but i JUST finished jjk s1 and arcane s1 this weekend after months and am loving so far (also halfway thru like a million other things) - contrast this with me just rewatching the owl house again in like a week lmao

i make music sometimes and might post that here lol along with any other things i make and think people would enjoy

english is my native lang, i speak french pretty well, and i know a bit of japanese (v hard to maintain a good habit with studying it and i mostly focus on reading it so i SUCK at output) - which reminds me i adore learning to read stuff (such as wingdings and aurebesh back when i was a bigger (not even that big) star wars fan) which is prob why i love kanji so much XD - o also agma schwa is goated and i'll prob be in ccc4

you can follow me on bsky as well - im usually more active there :]

o ye i have a youtube where i do a series on helping people make utdr fangames you can check out:

youtube

i'll also post other stuff there at some point so lemme know if there's anything you'd like to see! also plan on streaming at some point this summer

also am furry and am only now (xD) making a fursona i actually like which i'll post here when 'tis done with the help of my wonderfully awesome and cool friend @darn-skipyy-art (pls pls pls go follow em if you take absolutely nothing else from this post lol)

random fact bout me: i have various christmas carols/songs stuck in my head year round and im pretty sure watching the curious george christmas special where the one kid sings about fish knowing bout christmas as a kid over and over is partially at fault

anyhow feel free to talk to me about any of my interests - im a nerd and need other nerds to talk to before i go insaneeee

uhh that's it i think!

enjoy your day!! :3

#intro post #introduction #idk why im using tumblr now it just king of happened #les choses que jaime #why did i do the previous tag en francais? jsp #undertale #deltarune #the owl house #im a furry #check out my friend whos much cooler than me #transfem #genderfluid except boy lmao #feelin v they/them today :D #thats all byeeeee #Youtube

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xeiinsuuferst · 9 months ago

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Here’s some Crescent and Lux art! ^^ I feel like they’d be closer because they’re the same age and have to take care of two younger kids, which essentially means they can only depend on each other for emotional comfort since they don’t want to burden the little ones. :,(

YAP STARTS NOW!! Just me asking smth and yapping about what I’m planning for this comic etc

By the way, since I’m planning to create multiple comics for my AU, I’m not sure which ships I should include or whether I should just skip adding any (except for some implied moments between the adult Sanses, not the ship kids, lol). SO PLZ GIVE ME OPINIONS PSLPSLSPSLSLSLLSSLSLSSSSS IDK WHAT TO ADD

There are only four ships I’m set on including in the comic (kind of like... situationships, etc ), and those THREE ships are Killermare, Colorkiller, and Cream.

Cream is more like... eh... I’m honestly not too sure. I think they’d be cute together, but I might just keep them as a situationship or something.

Now, I’m going to be honest..I actually kind of like Killermare. 🤷 The dynamic is interesting. (I don’t support toxic or abusive relationships; I mostly want to incorporate some “canon” personalities for the characters. To me, I can’t see Killermare being a healthy relationship at all, and I want to experiment with that in this comic.)

Now, for Colorkiller: definitely one of my favorite ships! I REALLY want to include this ship mostly because they’re super cute, but they’ll most likely stay as a situationship for the most part, lol.

Now I want to talk about my plans for this comic! I really want to explore a bunch of different topics!! This comic will definitely have some dark themes and maybe even a sprinkle of violence. I mostly made this post to gather some opinions on the ships, but somehow it turned into me rambling about what I want to do with this comic, lol. 😭

It'll probably take me a while to start making the comic due to my EXTREME lack of art skills (and not knowing how to start a comic properly). So, yeah, I’ll likely spend a few more days experimenting with poses before I start drawing the comic, lol. Also, please remember that this comic is more self-indulgent, and I’m mostly making it for myself. But anyway, thanks for reading this WALL of text! I hope you all have an amazing day!!

Lux belongs to AlainaPrana

Crescent belongs to Lunnar-chan

#lux sans #crescent sans #undertale au #ship children #I ALSO FORGOT TO MENTION #I HAVE SCHOOL..#SO ITLL PROBABLY TAKE EVEN LONGER #i’d say like.. 1-2 months #cuz I’m smart #kind of #also guys I figured out how to do big and colored text on tumnlr #tumblr*#this is amazing #IVE HAD TO EDIT THIS FOUR TIMES #I’m a little high #mb guys

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cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

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HAMMER TO THE HEART — THE FINAL CHAPTER: DANTE TORRES [Summer Writings]

A/N: We made it to the final part of this mini series that had no plans of being a series, which is still mind-blowing for me since I’ve nicknamed myself as “NeverWriteAPart2ESS.” 🤭 This is for the readers who asked if i had any more Dante on my list and here it is but I’m sure it won’t be the last! Thanks for all of your support. Also hope you have either a fun, safe, or chill holiday 💥 I originally had this planned to drop Saturday or Sunday but I’ve been in my writing bag lately so enjoy this (mostly) angst gift ✨

🏷️: @darqchilddaydreamz as always thanks for tuning in, I love reading your responses ❤️

S/N: Seraphina now has a face readers but ofc you’re always welcome to imagine whomever! + rewatched the last two episodes to refresh my noggin—I’m still new to PD and debating if I want to get into it from the beginning due to past ICKS so if some things are/have been inaccurate that’s why lol.

WARNINGS: language, tweaked the original plot just a little, light? discussion of deceased bodies, bodily injury, triggering flashbacks, & a LENGTHY read!

<- read part two here.

𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐

There’s an unknown number that stands out on Dante’s phone screen. He came to the bar with Atwater and Ruzek, Ruzek briefly disappeared to the bathroom after telling Dante he was ready to kick his ass in some pool and Atwater struck up a conversation with a very flirtatious woman that Dante had to point out to him. It was funny how the taller man tried to get updates on what was going on with him and Seraphina but was being oblivious to the attractive woman that wanted his attention.

Dante’s sipping at his beer when he feels his phone vibrating. Shifting a bit he manages to pull the phone from his pocket, peering at it he swallows the alcholic beverage before swiping across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey, man thanks for picking up! Uh, sorry to bother you.”

Dante turns his eyes into slits, picking up on the familiar voice, “…Manny? How’d you get my number?”

“Remember my dad who I mentioned weeks ago?”

How could Dante forget? That day on his thirty-first birthday has been on his mind since and after everything that went down, added more disdain for his “special,” day.

Dante felt his eye twitch, “The old cop?”

“Uh huh…I guess you guys still have some type of pull even if you’re retired.”

Dante rubs at his face, slightly irked. Resting his elbows onto the counter he exhales as he thinks about what he should do about this situation. Somehow he chose to brush that off for now and get back to the point of this call.

Dante presses, “…is there something you need?”

It’s not as loud on Manny’s side of the line besides the barking that he scolds before it’s quiet again compared to Dante’s but the buzzed haired cop is focused on nothing but the intent of this call right now. “it might not be anything but my last call with Phina-Mena ended kinda abruptly. And I’ve been trying to reach out to her since and it seems like the call keeps dropping? I was just wondering if you heard from her?”

Dante feels his jaw tighten at this, it hasn’t been easy for him to process that Seraphina’s been keeping this from him at all. Which of course added to the mountains of tension between the two and it’s actually been two weeks since his birthday. Once Voight realized that Dante had a deeper connection to Seraphina than what this case is and felt a way about him getting her involved, Voight made sure to carry out visits to the lab without him.

Which further pissed Dante off.

“You gave me shit about not only becoming a cop but kept giving me shit about the situation with Gloria…and you think it’s okay getting yourself involved in this kind of danger when you already stepped away from it?” Dante felt like his brows were touching, the aggravation burned through his veins as he tossed Seraphina’s front door shut behind him.

The short haired woman continues her walk to the back of her home, to the kitchen, “Nothing about this case is okay and I have valid reasons just like you do with your career and Gloria. I may not fully ever get that second half but it happened and it is what it is.”

Which was ironic to hear since Seraphina was the one who said that she was done taking things for what they were with Dante. Was this all to get back underneath his skin because honestly it felt like she was kinda trying him?

“Yeah somehow I don’t think you’re gonna be saying that if you get yourself killed.” Dante’s usual gentle tone feels like frostbite, making Seraphina freeze in her tracks right in the center of her kitchen.

Relaxing her shoulders she turns to face Dante. His doe eyes are wide and he looks as if he wants to start pacing the floor but Seraphina isn’t in the mood to soothe him, not when his attitude’s been ugly since she made herself comfortable down at the district.

“You’re worried, that’s fine.” Seraphina shrugs, “I can understand that but you’re acting as if Voight handed me a gun—

Dante scoffs, “He might as well have!”

Seraphina argues as if it was so simple, “Tay, I’m working on the chemical end, not the physical. That’s your guy’s area. What you all signed up for.”

It wasn’t only PD’s job. She allowed herself to get thrown back into the true forensics of things. The amount of bodies that ranged from young kids to teens months ago to current time—still children was insane. At first the cases Seraphina’s dealt with, didn’t seem connected to her until she found something in common with each of the youngest children, that high traces of Librium contributed to their death along with specific wounds that ultimately caused them to bleed out.

The darkness was falling and Seraphina did not seem like she was ready to dodge it.

“What we’re dealing with is a serial killer.” Dante states while the woman nods her head being full aware from what she’s seen and before what made headlines, “They’re smart and have been steps ahead of us lately. If they find out that someone else is onto them…then there’s no telling what they have up their sleeve next.”

Seraphina inhaled and exhaled, “Which is why we’re doing everything to catch them and why Voight brought me on. He knows I can help so why can’t you?”

Dante shakes his head, “I never said that. You’re outstanding at anything you do…I just can’t go through having you in harm’s way again.”

She gets close to him now, hand going to grab the side of his neck and he thinks she’s going to embrace him but she just brings her chin above his shoulder, making sure her lips are near his ear, “Well, that’s not up for you to decide.”

And she goes to exit the kitchen, forgetting her appetite but Dante’s not finished as he also whips around, stalking after her, ready to follow her all around the house to get his feelings out about the path Seraphina was throwing herself back into.

The battle was just beginning.

Dante ignores Manny’s question and decides to ask his own, “when was this?”

“Last night.” Manny answers, “l called to see what she thought about the lastest MasterChef episode and we were just about to get off the phone after she took the trash out but there was some…shuffling? I guess and then the call dropped.”

At that moment, Dante felt as if all the air was just punched out of lungs. His head drops and he’s rubbing at his face now, eyes clenched while trying to find some air to bring back into his body. “time.”

“Pardon?”

“What,” Dante tries to keep his tone leveled but his gut was telling him that something was wrong and his stomach’s been funny since he last left his person’s house two weeks ago, “What time did this happen last night?”

Manny blew out a breath, “It was late…some time after 10pm my time and 9 for you guys.”

“You said you heard scuffling—

“Shuffling,” Manny corrected, “but now that you mention it, maybe it was more of a scuffle.”

“Did you try to call back?”

“Course. What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t check on a lady to make sure she made it safely into her home?” Manny says if it Dante offended him but it’s not like he cared, “There was a text sent ten minutes later saying that she dropped her phone, cracked her screen and would probably have to take it to a repair shop or get a new one but I haven’t heard from her all day today and we usually send morning affirmation texts or checking in texts during the day…it’s after 9pm now and there’s still nada. White noise.”

Dante can see that Ruzek’s made his way back out of his peripheral view, “Alright, I’ll get back to you.”

“Great, keep me posted. You now have my number—

Dante ends the call.

When his eyes meet Ruzek’s, his smirk vanishes as Ruzek gets rid of the teasing that’s sitting on his tongue, watching Atwater trying to spit game once he takes in Dante’s facial expression.

“Dante, what’s up?”

Dante’s rapid blinking makes Ruzek further concerned as he lets the words slip from his lips, explaining, “We have to do a wellness check on Nina.”

And Adam doesn’t need to hear anymore, with Dante making his exit before getting on the phone again, leaving Ruzek to toss some money on the counter in thanks to the bartender and calls out to interrupt whatever Kevin and his potential love interest of the night had going on.

When the trio make it to Seraphina’s brick home, Dante only pauses for a short time, his eyes scanning all over the exterior that was basically his first safe space once she brought it and second home. Kevin and Adam both share a look on either side of Dante, tempted to ease his worries but they were loud enough as they stood beside him.

It was a silent conversation between Kevin and Adam, both eyes widening to push the other to say something first but soon they realized Dante whisking by them as he jogged up the steep steps. He stops at the front door and gives a quiet signal for one of the men to check around the back while Atwater chose to follow after Dante.

The door was closed shut but not locked and that was something she did not do. With a twist of the door followed by his foot, he pushes the door open and calls out, “Nina…are you home?”

The home doesn’t feel warmed by her spirit so his mind already told him what he needed to know. Atwater does the honors of going up the first set of stairs to the right while Dante is checking closets, scanning the living room and there’s a closed laptop sitting on the coffee table, before heading down the hall. He passes the second set of stairs, checks the half bathroom, and continues to the kitchen. The house looks as it should and there’s a carton of raspberry chocolate chip Talenti ice cream soaking in the sink, perhaps it’s something she forgot to toss into the trash being too wrapped up in a conversation with Manny…but it reminds Dante of a dark time back in July when they were kids.

That July where their scars got fresh ones.

There’s a snapping that irks Seraphina’s ears, a light so bright that shines against the skin of her closed eyelids. She can feel her neck beginning to ache right at the spinal cord, the weight being too much to bare as she struggles to get the pressure off. It takes time but the light that keeps flickering is supposed to be encouraging and it does get her to focus.

Leaning back against the hard chair, her eyes peel open but the one on the left feels tight and more than sore. Swollen. She tries to blink it away but that feeling is prominent and it makes the space above her brow experience a sensation that radiates to the center of her forehead, leaving her skull to throb. She had been hit with something when she turned away from her trash out back and now she was sitting face to face with the man the entire city was searching for.

“You don’t realize how fascinating you are.” He starts, “At first I thought my one more would only be Hank but then…I started watching you too.”

That unsettling feeling that sunk in was not pleasant. The woman winces as she feels the ties chaffing into her wrists and her ankles, “…this isn’t going to end well for you.”

“I could say the exact same to you.” The bearded man says, emotionless, “But I’ll do you a favor and let you get one last call.”

Seraphina huffs, knowing what that means but slowly let’s the determination kick in trying to buy herself some more time, “Did you really catch me off guard and hit me in the face?”

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” He answers honestly, “Like I said, you originally weren’t my target but I figured a two for one special wouldn’t hurt, much.”

Seraphina licks her dry lips, “tell me…are you married? Children? You should know, hitting women is a punk move but you got bigger problems than that. Kids? I hear the slammer doesn’t play with those that are kid killers.”

He scoffs out some laughter, “I won’t be there. I’ll be reborn, new by then and as for you…that’s to be determined. Are you a Phoenix or a scared duck hiding from the rainstorm like you’ve been doing over Dante?”

Seraphina clears her throat, “does that make you feel better? Speaking on things you think you know?”

He stands in front of the dark haired woman, hands clasped behind his back as he trailed his eyes all over her features, that alone made her skin crawl. It was as if he imagining all the ways to disfigure her face. There was a strong detachment in his eyes that would leave anyone shook.

“I think I know enough. I’ve watched all of you but the most intriguing happened to be: Hank, Hailey, Dante, and you.” He informs, “I needed Hank and I wanted you.”

“For what?” Seraphina quizzes.

He doesn’t miss a beat, “for new beginnings. We can’t take the easy way out but at least the comfort of a loved one in your final moments will make it seem that way. Which is why, you’re going to give me what I want and call.”

Seraphina shakes her head but stops as the pain follows her movements, “sounds like it’s more to give you a piece of mind. You think you provided all these people with peace as you tortured them for nothing?”

He has a cool blade underneath her chin so that their eyes are locked, “is anything really for nothing? Nothing is ever truly senseless. Look at yourself for an example. You’ve been here all your life, wishing on a star for Dante to love you back but maybe it’s a fever dream. Everything that you’ve been through, where you could have been, if only he took the romantic love you have for him serious—is all in your head.”

He’s squatting now, dry hands on Seraphina’s bare thighs. Her breathing hitches as the deranged man pulls the waistband of her Terry cloth shorts forward, “there it is.”

He’s in amazement and she wants nothing more than to spit in his face at him showing her vulnerability in this dark room.

Seraphina doesn’t look at him as he runs the point of the blade along her lengthy scar, “Stop touching me!”

She grits out but the killer can see that she was swallowing the rising tears down.

“Dante does love you beneath his own problems but he won’t allow it because he feels like he doesn’t deserve you. You know that. He chose someone else because that’s a life he’s known. You could have been a new life. Always have been which is why he keeps you close. He’s scared to have a life with you past friendship because of all of the things that happened when you were kids but most importantly he took a piece of life from you.”

The exposed air is cold against Seraphina’s old scar and she can feel her eyes burn; she just wanted this man to shut up and rot.

[July, 2009]

The horn from the opposite car is deafening.

A sixteen year old Dante is stunned on what he’s seeing. The classic mustang rammed into the back of Dante’s new low-rider, which was given to him by the exact man who decided to ram his car into the back of his. Dante’s leaning on his elbows on the hot gravel, trying to find his voice since his car was just totaled but that didn’t matter. What mattered was Seraphina happened to be in the passenger side eating her signature raspberry chocolate chip ice cream while he was outside of it, vibing to, “Forever,” by BBL Drizzy, Lil Wayne, Kanye West, and Eminem.

Although this was his first car through being involved with the gang, he took pride in it because he knew what he had to do to get it. He had to hide it up the street from his mother but she was no dummy, she sensed the change her in son the moment he returned the favor to his step-father, nearly beating the man to death. He looked up to, “Sad Eyes,” as almost an older brother with methods that gave him the potential to be a powerful man. However he wasn’t sure what this method was? And he scrambled to his feet as he heard the creaking of Sad Eyes’ car, he fell onto his shoulder out of the car, his eyes settling on Dante as he lay on his side.

“Why?! What was this for?!” Dante called out to him.

Sad Eyes just blinked as he spluttered around the blood that escaped his mouth, “Good Luck.” Were his final words.

Dante didn’t have time to process that right now as he circled around the car. His hands go right through the rolled down window to press a shaky hand into Seraphina’s pulse point. It’s moving but it’s too slow. She’s not conscious but the horrors were already settling in as Dante’s green hues followed the path of the crushed car and the iron fence that pierced through her abdomen.

There was blood everywhere. Dripping from the iron fence while pooling into the lap of her white jeans. His heart was hammering against his chest at the sight, she looked dead and that alone felt unbearable. He snapped out of it, hands moving to the handle of the door trying to pull it open but it was obviously jammed shut.

The sirens were squealing through the summer air in the distance and Dante just knew there had to be some sort of motive. There always was with this gang. Carefully he leaned into the window, pressing a kiss to her temple, breathing her in as he whispers, “I’m sorry, Nina.”

That wouldn’t be the last of his apologies. He went into hiding around the empty parking lot, just to make sure that the firefighters got her out and the paramedics got her into the ambulance. Dante was aware that the police would start searching the area but he couldn’t just fully leave his best friend behind. Not when their relationship shifted weeks prior.

Sure he’s thought about it, asking Seraphina to be his girl but he let the members of the gang get into his head. He only told the other youngest member of the gang, who went and ran his mouth to the main two in command: Sad Eyes and Joker about it. Rico aways had diarrhea of the mouth and sometimes Dante felt bad at how hard everyone was on him, until Rico told his business with Seraphina.

A meaningful intimate night that they all clowned him for. That she wasn’t anything different or even special because she didn’t choose to get passed around by them. Seraphina didn’t even want to be around the gang after they disrespected her, especially with most of the members being much older than the both of them. She would never be just some, “bitch,” and they told Dante that he would find plenty more along the way in this life. That did not sit right with Dante so he cut his time short with them that day (plus some days after that but they always came to him when he didn’t want to bothered) and gave Rico a nice busted lip on his way home. He felt bad about it later since the fourteen year old struggled to find his place in the gang and just wanted to be part of something but in that moment? A sixteen year old Dante stood on business, which the gang got another laugh at.

When Dante and his mother, Catalina made it to the hospital Seraphina’s father was just finishing talking to the doctor. It had been hours since Dante watched them take Seraphina away. He waited for his mother to get home from work, keeping his gun nearby just in case any other members dared came to his door, telling her what happened and she didn’t bother putting her things down. She waved him along, mind racing with a million and one thoughts as they left their home to catch the bus to the hospital.

Catalina prayed the entire way, rosary held in both her and Dante’s hands but the younger boy kept his eyes on the city lights that blurred by.

He couldn’t lose Seraphina.

“You piece of shit!” The boulder of a man hissed while yanking Dante up by the collar, “I told her to stay about from you countless of times but she continues to be hardheaded—must of been something you taught her. You bring nothing but poison, you started this. I know you convinced her to hide those pills that got my wife caught out. I know my daughter.”

Dante was breathing hard but out of anger, “you think you do, sir. You think you have the answers to everything but you don’t. You’re the definition of neglect. You neglected your wife when anybody can take one look at her and see that she was about to lose her shit. And Seraphina? The only time you paid attention to her is when you’re looking to point the finger for your miserable life. Tell me, do you really think I’m the only piece of shit here when you tried to drown your so called daughter the night they took Mrs. Coty away?”

“Dante!” His mother’s voice cuts through, knowing her son crossed a line but she never appreciated the way Mr. Coty spoke of her son, and she also wasn’t aware of what he did to Seraphina.

Her hand was resting right on Mr. Coty’s bicep tightly and she noticed the nurses looking, hands probably waiting on the phone to call security to throw them out. Seraphina didn’t need to be alone like this, this much Catalina knew and just needed these two to put their egos aside for the sake of Seraphina.

Mr. Coty huffed as he shoved Dante against the wall one last time, his head hitting the wall as he tells him, “You think you’re so much better? You’ve done nothing but break her and that’s all you’ll ever be, a scared little boy that brings nothing but damage. You think you saved your mother by beating that coward of a man down? You only ended up hurting her just as much and as for my daughter? Two broken ribs, neck sprain, and that fence went right through her pelvis. Do you know what that means? There’s a high chance that she’ll never be able to create life in the future and sure she won’t have to worry about that now but you’ll always be the reminder of what you took from her. That’s all you are, a good for nothing taker. So you remember that when you want to shit on my parenting skills.”

And Mr. Coty fixes Dante’s shirt, condescendingly patting his cheek as he stalked off in the opposite direction of where Seraphina lay. A sixteen year old Dante thought about many things in that moment, one of those being the act of swinging on the older man, there was a familiar look in his eyes that his mother saw so she sat beside him on the floor and brought him into her chest while he clenched his fists, holding back tears.

There was a time back when Dante was in the academy, where he and Seraphina slipped up back in their early twenties. The age of seventeen was the first time but as they grew, it happened again. She slipped into a bookstore while Dante was eyeing a new boba shop that was across the street. He had a tough day the day before and agreed to hang out that Saturday to get his mind off it. Dante knew that he had what it takes but the instructor was a Grade-A asshole and that only pushed him even harder. He easily pinned out what type of cop he would be dealing with and heard the gossip, so he showed his ass just exactly what he was capable of.

It did get tiring and he was exhausted but wanted to be around Seraphina to ease his mind. Seraphina stood across the street, a bright smile on her lips as she had a tote bag full of new purchases that her bank account would give her shit for later when she went over her finances like she commonly did every reset Sunday. She didn’t like what she saw, another woman, with bright copper hair, clearly flirting and being too close to Dante for her liking.

Did she not see that he had two drinks in his hand? It wasn’t Dante’s fault, he was a single good looking man and could do whatever he wanted. Seraphina just messed up her previous date that Seán set her up with because she was too hung up on Dante. It was ridiculous considering that they weren’t children anymore but constantly bringing him up to other contenders was a red flag. She saw that, had to understand how that was off putting because she wouldn’t put up with it herself honestly.

So she took the risk, not wanting anyone else to have Dante as they got into an argument over her shift in moods after their outing uptown. She walked right up to him, grasping his face and planted one right on him. He wasn’t expecting that as he pulled back, silently questioning what that was with curiosity in his light eyes but that curiosity is exactly what led to him connecting their lips again, picking her up and leading her through her apartment at the time to her bedroom.

She’d like to call it a true false positive, taking two tests after the third time. Her OBGYN confirmed it with a blood test and she was happy but scared. Seraphina and Dante were friends, the best anyone could have but they discussed that it couldn’t be more until she ended up wanting it to be more. No one else matched up to him. They were careful—not enough—and she imagined what children would look in their friendship and automatically knew Dante would be a great dad. Just when she worked up the nerve to tell him, waiting days after the news…she suffered a miscarriage alone because of that terrifying injury when she was fifteen going on sixteen.

Asherman's syndrome is what they call it.

“Somewhere around all of it, you still love him and he cares for you immensely. It’s twisted because anyone would have called it quits but there’s something…enchanting about you two.” The killer is back to standing up straight, “I want to hear how much up close so…call.”

Seraphina slowly blinks while she stares at the device the killer is holding out to her, “No.”

The bearded man deeply inhales, putting the burner phone back into his pocket, “tell me something…when you went through your miscarriage…when that abdominal pain almost ripped you apart from the inside out, did you dig your nails into the palms of your hands hoping that would help?”

She exhales, closing her eyes and knows what’s about to happen next. She doesn’t grant the monster with a response as she feels the blade pressing underneath her nail. Her screams did not go unheard in the room close by which contained a non-coherent Hank Voight and once satisfied, the killer whispers as he enjoys the drips of blood that hits the floor, “Take all the time you need but I’ll be back. It’s time to see Hank.”

The state of Dante Torres’ heart felt as if someone took a meat tenderizer right to it. He was right on Hailey’s tail despite Petrovic telling her to stand down. This case quickly became personal for the both of them and it didn’t take long to realize that Voight got snatched as well. The team all knew it was a matter of time and that was not something they wanted to continue to give to Matson.

He wished Upton stood on her stance of shooting Matson in the kneecaps and had his own finger on the trigger to fire. The next moments he blacked out on after seeing Hailey climb in the trunk of Matson’s stolen car.

Eventually he’s heading down the steps, eyes immediately picking up on Matson’s mutaliated body, eyes gaugeed out, brain matter surrounding him, and a knife sticking right out of his abdomen that Seraphina was still holding onto. Dante lowered his gun after putting in the call for the paramedics to make their way down.

“Nina,” Dante gently speaks as he gets down on his knees beside a sitting Seraphina.

He carefully reaches out to touch her bleeding hands but she pulls them back from holding the blade, curling her hands into herself numb to her missing fingernails. “Hey, hey, it’s me, Tay. I’m here, Nina.”

It’s like she’s not here, eyes glossed over but she hears him. “Dante?”

He nods and there’s a sob that rattles from her chest as a bloody hand tries to silence it. Dante springs into action, bringing her right into his arms. His face tightens as he glances at Matson’s body and back to Ruzek who’s tending to Hailey and Voight, he dips his head for him to get Seraphina out of here.

“I’ve got you,” he says to her after repeating a nod to Ruzek, “let me get you out of here, alright?”

Scooping her into his arms, he spins around taking her away from the violence that was inflicted. Hating that he didn’t try harder enough to keep her out of this. Kim nods her head at them on their way by, empathy was heavy in her large eyes as she watched her team member take the love of his life as far as he could.

“I wouldn’t call.” She whispers to Dante in the ambulance, one hand holding his while the paramedic is bandaging her right hand.

Dante hums as he brings her in tact hand to his lips, “I know Mi Corazón…you’re the toughest person I know, next to mi ma.”

Seraphina snorts before her eyes widen, “…you didn’t tell her anything did you?”

“She’s knows we’re going through our bullshit again,” he mocks his mother, knowing that Seraphina’s reaction was valid because as soon as Momma Catalina found out that her babies were up to some bullshit, she was ready to bring out the chancla after embracing them and making sure they were okay first, “but not the specifics.”

“Good.”

Dante scoffs, “good? Not good. I know what happened and you should be more concerned with that than anything else.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Seraphina closes her eyes but Dante nudges her with their clasped hands, “…can we do this later? I’m tired.”

Dante peeks at the paramedic who shakes their head, which lets Dante know that there could be signs of a concussion. “How about this? Let’s talk about the rest of our summer plans?”

“Are you sure you even want to spend the summer with me?” Seraphina wiggles around trying to get comfortable on the stretcher, “I know you’re going to beat yourself up over this and it’s not necessary. I’m a big girl and made myself part of this, not you.”

He exhales through his nostrils, laughing internally that she knew him so well. How could he not beat himself up over this? It was his job to look after her, something they both vowed once they became friends at thirteen. Once he got into the gang in juvi, he made sure he had people on the outside looking out; not only for Seraphina but also his mother until he got out.

“Yeah it is necessary,” he starts but Seraphina doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’m tired of Chicago, Tay.” She shifts the conversation, although the green-eyed man knows he can bring it right back there if he wanted to but he decides to listen on their ride to the hospital, “My parents went to Kansas City as soon as I moved out full time to get rid of all the bad memories so why can’t I do the same…even if it’s for a little bit? My cousin Behati’s been begging me to visit the New England area with her husband and two year old daughter.”

Dante is quiet at this but he shows he’s listening as he lightly squeezes her hand.

“B and Makari always extended the invitation to you too, you know?” She’s hinting as Dante leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

He’s met Seraphina’s cousin Behati and cousin-in-law Makari many of times over video calls and the pair seems so full of joy. So positive and compassionate with the intentions of showing that they were good people. Seraphina’s always talked about Behati and hated that she always lived far and cant remember the last time she’s seen her in person.

“You should go.” Is all Dante says, sending a small smile to Seraphina who goes silent at that.

Dante lets out a long exhale after cutting the engine. He knows they’re pressed for time as he’s in the line up, and glances over at Seraphina who peers out the window in excitement. Dante dips his head as they both move to exit the car, she’s fixing the carry-on that’s on her shoulder while Dante pulls out the hard-cover suitcase from the trunk. Reaching out for the handle, they both meet each other’s eyes.

Seraphina offers Dante a smile and he takes it, a soft grin splitting over his lips that she gets a view of the tiny gap in between his front two teeth before he’s pulling her into his arms. He always loved holding her. The feathered haired woman rubs at his back in his embrace as he holds onto her like he’s going to lose her forever.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you and I’m gonna miss you, Nina.” He says as their heads rest side by side.

She laughs, “I know.”

Dante snorts as he pulls back to look at the amusement in her eyes. It’s been a tough time after the events with the serial killer but Seraphina always knew how to keep going and this trip was part of that. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to relocate but she kept talking it over with her therapist—something new she was trying—and with Dante. What kind of friend would he be if he told her to stay after everything?

“How sweet of you.” Dante is sarcastic as he gently rubs the sides of her arms while Seraphina winks.

“I’ll be back after Labor Day.”

Dante nods.

Seraphina uses her pointer fingers to lift the corner of Dante’s mouth who rolls his eyes in return, a smile breaking through on its own, “And if you change your mind or want a little break from this…from Chicago, you know where to find me.”

He places a lingering kiss on both cheeks before hugging her again, lifting her off her feet, “yeah, I do. I love you, have a great flight. Now get out of here.”

She kisses one of his cheek’s back, “I love you more and I’ll text you when I land!”

“You better.” He puts her down on her feet, letting her take her things and watching as she makes her way into the airport.

Once she sends another wave and he can’t see her anymore, Dante circles back around his car to get into the drivers seat. The hammering starts in his chest as he starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and he’s struggling to swallow the lump in his throat.

See Dante wouldn’t blame Seraphina if she decided that she didn’t want to come back. They always talked about seeing what the world had to offer but Chicago was all that they knew. He was glad that she was getting out, although she claimed it was only for a little while, the back of his mind was saying something different.

His eyes flicked to the new ornament that he hung from his mirror. It was a old Polaroid photo, on Seraphina’s fifteenth birthday during a late December, she held up a deck of cards which shielded the lower half of her face, arm tossed over Dante’s shoulder as he appeared unimpressed wearing a red headdress that was Vegas themed and forced on his head for the photo.

Written on the white space in Seraphina’s chicken scratch of handwriting she always had it says: I’ll always celebrate my bday and ur bday enough for the both of us! —Forever your road dog, Nina :)

Dante sucks in some air after glancing at it, blocking his mouth with a shaky hand in attempt to quit the cry that wants to burst out as he puts on a smile.

He really was happy that Seraphina got out, for real this time.

This didn’t have to be goodbye but it was certainly feeling like it and Dante would be lying if he said it wasn’t breaking him.

Guess he’s a sucker for pain and evolving it into something better, which he’s competent of.

When Dante truly sinks into this new found emptiness, a separate shade of darkness, he comes to terms with: not having the reassurance of Seraphina by his side or a simple drive across town where she resides, he’s not entirely sure how this will all play out and that petrified him.

“Torres,” he answers his phone, after realizing that it’s been ringing for a while.

The familiar gruff voice replies, “I need you down at the district.”

Crime was never ending as Dante put his foot to the pedal, flying down the highway to dive into the life he’s built for himself.

And continues to buries the rest.

For now.

𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐ 𓂃 ࿐ 𓂃࿐

FIN.

JK -> Here’s a bonus chapter!

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

#Spotify #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #dante torres #Dante Torres x reader #chicago pd fanfic #kevin atwater #adam ruzek #summer writing #benjamin levy aguilar

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abcd-adventures · 10 months ago

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Coffee Date

It's crazy humid out here this morning, but that humidity skin glow isn't the worst. Lol ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In a couple weeks I'm turning 42 and my husband and my dating anniversary is the same day as my birthday--it'll be 19 years since our first date. I'm looking forward to planning a date night and having some time just the two of us. There hasn't been much of that recently, and to be honest that's mostly on me. My husband has never been my go-to emotional support person. He provides a level of safety and security because he's very loyal and I know with absolute certainty that he loves me, so in that way he's incredibly supportive. But, he is not the person I go and talk to when I'm stressed or upset. He usually gets the abridged version after-the-fact because people/emotions aren't really his strong suit. That's always been fine because I have a wonderful support network of people who are far more emotionally adept at processing my shit with me. Unfortunately, right now, all of those people are going through their own pretty serious shit, so I'm more trying to be there for them. Somehow, in 19 years, there's not really ever been a time when I didn't really have an outlet for my own stress/emotions because always at least one of my people was around to decompress with. I'm pretty good at journaling. I'm reading Full Catastrophe Living and working on incorporating more meditation and yoga...I'm doing the whole "self care" stuff, but for the first time in 19 years, I'm definitely feeling the frustration of not having a partner who "gets" emotional exhaustion. I have definitely found myself pulling away from him a bit because of that, and I know he feels it and doesn't understand it. HE has not changed, and I recognize intellectually that it's unfair of me to be resentful, so I'm trying to find a way to address that in a way that works for both of us. I definitely have been feeling like a social worker 24/7 and that's not sustainable. Maybe it's as simple as I just need to take a day off and sleep. Maybe I'll try that. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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locklyle1kanij · 2 years ago

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Okay it’s time for part two of my Lockwood and Co fic recs, we’re going into the not as known fics and a lot of them are newer and mostly a bit shorter then the other ones i recommend last time.

(and of course they’re all mainly locklyle)

Also spoilers for The Hollow Boy ending if you haven’t read it, bec a lot of these fics have to do with the ending of that book.

Also if you have any trouble finding theses fics just let me know and i can hopefully help you out. ENJOY!!

“A certain step to falling in love” written by: buttonupshirt

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy reads Lockwood's copy of Pride and Prejudice

“A turn of fate” written by: IndecisiveScribbler

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy Carlyle has the worst luck. After getting rejected from what seems like every agency in London, it honestly feels like the world is against her. Fate strikes her with a second chance, though, and she is hired by Fittes as the newest member of Quill Kipps' team. She's prepared to show just how powerful her Talent can be. Anthony Lockwood is having an absolutely terrible time finding a new agent. He and George are struggling, and it doesn't help that Kipps keeps tearing cases away from them left and right. Luckily, he has a plan that will solve both of his problems at once.

I’m other words…

An AU in which Lucy doesn't learn about Lockwood & Co. and gets hired by Fittes instead.

“After the fall” written by: Littlelola

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

THB SPOILERS!! a different way the argument about Lucy leaving L&C could have gone.

“Don’t give up on me” written by: dmh23

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

TCS SPOILERS!! What if after their experience with La Belle Dame, Lucy is absolutely furious at Lockwood for following the Visitor? What if the case forces them to confront their feelings for each other, before their emotions end up causing even more issues for them and everyone around them?

“Drag Me Down” written by: buggybugs

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

After the untimely death of his sister, nine year old Anthony Lockwood is sent to live with a family friend who teaches him how to protect himself. But when a mysterious person drops off a pamphlet when he's seventeen, it's going to change everything. Alongside his untrained psychic powers and newfound friends, George Karim and Lucy Carlyle-Fittes, he'll soon discover that not everything is what it seems. Welcome to Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp, where you train hard to become international psychic secret agents....otherwise known as Psychonauts.

[Psychonauts AU, but you do NOT have to play the games in order to read this! The setting and some of the plot points are taken from the game, but a majority of it are worldbuilding things I've created myself to make this concept work so that it can be read by all readers.]

“Give me something to believe in” written by: PiningLikeFineDining

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

A royalty AU where Lucy and Lockwood meet as kids.

(my obsession with Royalty AU’s is honestly pretty concerning lol)

“Glowing Dim As An Ember” written by: LeonaBelle

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lukia doesn't remember her life before she was taken in by Mrs. Karlova. All she knows is she needs to get out of Russia and go to Paris, where she's sure she'll find the key to her past. A snarky conman, Anton, and his comrade Georgiy are her ticket out, with one catch: she has to pose as the Grand Duchess Ludmila. Along the way she finds herself inexplicably drawn to Anton, who seems somehow familiar. Lukia's journey is sabotaged by sinister shadows from her past, and only time will tell if she loses her heart or her life first.

(It’s an anastasia au, and it’s so perfect for locklyle)

“Gutted” written by: Savoirfaire

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

THB SPOILERS!! Lucy is staying away from Lockwood for his own good. Lockwood is too proud to ask her to come back. It'll take a miracle to get them back together. That, or a foot of steel rebar through the stomach.

“Happy endings” written by: Shenanigans24

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

an AU where, Lucy Carlyle is a frustrated writer working a part time job that's leading nowhere. Her problem, she doesn't believe in happy endings. Anthony Lockwood, journalist, isn't looking for a happy ever after. He's far too busy. Both end up for different reasons, at evening classes for writers. Do they deserve their own happy ending? Well first they might have to work together to solve a shocking mystery that sounds as if it belongs in a fiction book.

“I Can See You” written by: scarlettaylor

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy Carlyle is one of the top agents in England, a part of the notorious Fittes Agency. Anthony Lockwood is the founder and leader of Lockwood and Co., an Agency rapidly rising to fame. After the two meet on a case, it seems that fate keeps pulling them together. Navigating being in love as an agent is already a challenge. Hiding it from your respective agencies is a whole other issue.

“just business” written by: menina123

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

THB SPOILERS!! Lockwood’s been looking for a way to get Lucy back all winter, and when DEPRAC decides to host a weekend conference, he finally gets his chance. And if there’s a discount on registration fees for couples (excuse me, pairs)? That’s even better.

(I found this one today and i’m already obsessed with it)

“On The Fence” written by: Mercurial_Rain

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy Carlyle is an art student that stumbles across the Lockwood & Co fencing club while finishing an art assignment. She doesn't expect to see them again, but then, fate will do as it will.

(OMG i can’t believe i forgot about this one!! It’s sooo good!!!)

“The bizarre brink of feelings” written by:

Mirroringdust (MirroringDust)

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

SPOILER FOR THB What if Lucy never left after the Hollow Boy and what if her vision became true but in a completely unexpected way? Lucy and Lockwood face a situation that they can't really understand and a ghost they can't really capture in the usual way. On their final way to fight it, they are trapped in the tunnel, the others already lost. The manifestation pushed them to the brink of their feelings and the only way to not get lost is to admit them.

“The Darkness Beyond The Gates: A Halloween Chronicle” written by: worldofkaeos

Finished

Plot Summary:

A day before Halloween, Lockwood and Co. is suddenly tasked with one of the most arduous and dangerous case they had ever encountered. A group of missing agents, an ancient tale of a peculiar girl, and a sudden outbreak of supernatural Visitors in the midst of order, when things seemed to have already calmed down. The stakes are sky-high; will they succeed in their quest and save these agents? Above all: will they make it out alive?

“The Far Side of Paradise” written by: WhimysInkRibbons

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

It's 1930. All around the country, banks are closing their doors as the fallout of Black Tuesday spirals into economic depression. But Hesperide Manor, home of business magnate Marissa Fittes, is a world of glamour set apart. Lucy Carlyle, an aspiring PI, poses as a maid at Hesperide, determined to uncover the secrets of the manor's history in order to trade it for justice for her own. But when her past catches up to her in the form of Anthony Lockwood, the man who betrayed her years ago, she knows a single misstep will cause both their identities to come crashing down. Lockwood has been searching for his parent's and sister's murderer for years, at the cost of his childhood and the girl he once loved. When fate brings them together again in Hesperide, his heart is torn between his growing feelings for Lucy and his desire to put the murderer behind bars. Striking a tentative alliance, Lockwood and Lucy agree to help each other find the answers they seek. But as the days pass, they find themselves both falling for each and becoming more and more entangled in sinister secrets that the wealthy and powerful will do anything to protect.

“the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view” written by: the_one_that_fell

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Not long after the establishment of DEPRAC, it was ruled that all children over the age of seven who possessed any psychical Talents were to go through government-funded training. The day Lucy turned seven, she was shipped off to London to study at Fittes House. There, she met a boy.

“The Lost Months of the Hollow Boy” written by: PininglikeFineDining

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

OBVIOUSLY TBH SPOILERS!!Lockwood begins to realize what a life without Lucy entails, learns more about her through an unexpected visitor, and receives glimpses into her past. Takes place between books 3 & 4.

(If you don’t want to emotional damaged DON,T READ THIS!)(but you should read it tho…)

“What I Know Now written” by: wawabird

Ongoing

Plot Summary:

Lucy closed her eyes momentarily and took a deep breath. Opening them she looked at the two in front of her. As of right now they were her only hope, Mary's life rested in the hands of a socially awkward occultist and his dandy of a friend who would not stop staring at her. Fantastic. A fun little pre-problem regency au :)

I might make a part three but your gonna have to give me a couple weeks to find more because i’ve name dropped most of my favs i think lol but i will probably eventually make a part three… Also if any of the authors see this post, Thank You sooo much and keep doing what your doing <33333 and of course let me know your fic recs because I LOVE L&C FICS!!

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shutupineedtothink · 2 years ago

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I finally landed on a Siuan theory/analysis re: 2x07! And it works prettyyyy good if I do say so myself. At the least it’s plausible. Probably. No book spoilers because I haven’t read the books, this is a show only theory. Read on at your own risk!

Background: So, at first I was on board the “Moiraine and Siuan planned this whole thing daes dae’mar blah blah blah” train. Mostly in my emotional turmoil after watching the episode initially. But, I was forced to dismiss that pretty quickly in light of some of Siuan’s lines, namely “That boy must not leave this city.” And “You lied to me.” She has to believe both of those things are truths to say them, so her somehow being secretly on Moiraine’s side still and them having conjured up some plan together doesn’t match up with either of those lines. Sadly. So that’s pretty much out. If this ends up actually being the case, I look forward to how they explain themselves out of it.

Second theory is of course that it’s playing exactly as we’re seeing it, which ultimately does work and when I can take the emotional dagger to my heart out of it, is objectively really excellent storytelling and character work. These are two women, trying to do the right thing, trying to save the world, and their love is sacrificed at the altar of duty. Duty over love is a theme that’s absolutely pounded into us with many characters, so it makes sense. (As Lan points out to Rand also in this episode, “you were born to protect this whole world, not just the people you love.” That’s kinda where Siuan and Moiraine are at too.) Plus I love the idea that Siuan comes face to face with the very real if unfathomable possibility that Moiraine has been turned to the dark based on her actions and general cageyness for the last six months, and that’s really what motivates every choice Siuan makes, up to and including invoking the oath rod. Really great stuff, brilliant subtext, two thumbs up.

However. There is a third option. *rubs hands together gleefully*

I heard some people saying Siuan could be under Compulsion, which definitely piqued my interest, because we’ve had those breadcrumbs dropped earlier in the season already and it would be nice foreshadowing for this. But most of the conversation I’ve seen seems to be around Liandrin being the one to do it. Probably because we’ve alluded to that already this season, so we know she is capable and has done it before. A tool in her dark friend toolkit, if you will.

But Liandrin being behind it never sat quite right with me either. Compelling Sheriam to change some logbook is one thing, but controlling the Amyrlin seat, for hours if not days to make this happen, is quite another. Idk what kind of strength Compulsion requires, but I bet it’s not nothing. And as powerful as Liandrin is, I don’t think she’s stronger than Siuan Sanche, or would be able to pull one over on her fast enough to make this happen. Plus, Liandrin is off doing other shit in this episode. If she was really implicated I feel like she’d be at least lurking around the other Aes Sedai. Maybe I’m wrong… but I don’t think I am lol.

So, who does have the power to do this? Who else has the means, motive, and opportunity to make this happen? There’s really only one other person.

The other scene stealer of 2x07, ya girl Lanfear.

There’s several bits of dialogue in this episode that back this theory up, both Compulsion in general and Lanfear being behind it, so let’s run from the top.

First, some general evidence that Compulsion might be happening.

Rand and Siuan meet, Rand gives his cute little introduction, Lan has prepared you I see, what else has he told you about me? Then Rand gives this line:

“That you’re not exactly what you seem.”

Interesting choice of words, writers— I mean Rand. He could have said a lot of things there, even directly repeating some of what Lan told him about Siuan, but no. And if you’re already thinking Compulsion, that’s a pretty strong nudge from the writers to PAY ATTENTION to Siuan Sanche, because maybe what she’s doing is not what it seems, even the person she IS in that moment is not what it seems. (Even if the surface level read totally makes sense and still works thematically!) This also wouldn’t be the first time that the writers seem to use the characters to say something/poke fun that’s more directed at us than the actual plot. So I definitely wouldn’t put it past ‘em.

Second, and this is kind of a throw away, but when Moiraine and Lan come in later, Lan says “this isn’t what we agreed to.” This is pretty easy to explain away, but I think it’s still notable that Lan and Siuan had some kind of conversation earlier, perhaps on their way to Cairhien, about what they were going to do in regards to Moiraine and/or Rand. And at that point Siuan at least implied that she was going to help Moiraine and Rand, not cage him. Again, pretty easy to sidestep with aes sedai truth-lies/evasions, but it’s also possible at that point she actually had no intention to cage Rand. Because she wasn’t under Compulsion yet.

Alright, still going in chronological order here, so now we’re getting into some Lanfear-did-it specifics. And I do love-hate this one.

Moiraine and Siuan are arguing over what to do about Rand, then this:

Siuan: “Can you imagine, Moiraine, if one of the forsaken got their hands on him?”

Can YOU imagine, how absolutely giddy it would make Lanfear to make her say this, to Moiraine’s FACE, knowing full well she’s got her hands all over Rand and then some? Come on, son.

Ok jokes aside, here’s the kicker.

Rand and Moiraine in the cell in the sun palace, Rand meets Lanfear in the dream world, Rand goes up to her and says “I’m in a cell, the Amyrlin’s holding me.”

And Lanfear says, so smug, “I know.”

Um, girl? You know?? HOW do you know exactly? I definitely dismissed this on the first couple watches as oh, Lanfear just knows things, but like, no. The Forsaken aren’t omniscient. Now, could she be teleporting herself here and there and spying on everything that’s going on and that’s why she knows? Sure. But that’s boring and I’m on a roll here so let’s keep going.

She knows, not just that Rand is in a cell but specifically that it’s the Amyrlin that’s holding him there, because she herself Compelled (Compulsed?) Siuan to do so.

Ok so motive. Why would Lanfear do this, why spend the effort?

1. It's definitely fun for her. 2. She sets up this scenario where she gets to “save” Rand from the big bad aes sedai, he has no choice but to ask her for help, she LITERALLY shows up in her white knight in shining armor outfit, and she ultimately hopes this helps convince him she actually cares about him and wins him over to her side. (As she tries to tell him in the finale, I’m the only one who cares about YOU, not just what you can do. Mhm sure girl.) And 3. She gets to actively pit the rest of the aes sedai against Moiraine, who she absolutely hates.

And in doing all of this SHE MIGHT NOT EVEN HAVE KNOWN about Moiraine and Siuan! That's just icing on the fucking cake! It works either way, because if she did know by forcing Siuan to tell her about their mission and she somehow gets Siuan to admit she loves Moiraine (however that interrogation goes, idk the specifics of compulsion but the show writers are playing fast and loose with the rules anyway), well now it’s game on baby because Lanfear will absolutely be using that info to wreck both of them. If she didn’t know, and her whole motivation is the first three reasons above, then she definitely finds out at the end of 2x07, because she was definitely lurking around the corner listening to that whole exchange between them and it made her fucking night.

And finally, there’s Lanfear’s last line of the episode (I think): “Lucky for you, a broken Amyrlin is more useful to me than a dead one.” Double meaning alert! Siuan is literally lying broken on the ground in that moment, but maybe she was already “broken” well before that, being under Lanfear’s control. (And there’s your Egwene/damane parallel too, damn.) And therefore Lanfear knows exactly how she’ll be “useful” to her.

This whole strategy by Lanfear could also be forecasted from a couple episodes back, when she asks Ishamael why he didn’t just kill Moiraine at the Eye. He basically tells her the same thing, that Moiraine (I believe he uses the words “aes sedai” specifically) is more useful to him alive than dead. So mayyyybe that gave her this idea to manipulate an aes sedai for her purposes, except while Ishamael is playing the long game, she goes full tilt and mind controls the fucking amyrlin seat.

On Siuan’s side of things, every bit of dialogue she has/action she takes makes sense under the assumption that Lanfear is influencing her, because she would “believe” everything she’s doing. Now I don’t know exactly how Compulsion works (in case you couldn’t tell), if it’s like someone else actually making you believe/do things you wouldn’t normally do, or if it’s more of a you’re trapped in your own head and not in control of your body sort of situation, but it works either way. And boy let me tell you, if this theory is correct, that makes Sophie Okenedo’s performance even more impressive than it already is, because it really works either way: Siuan is genuinely doing what she believes is right for the fate of the world and has her stone cold face on to do it (until the very end) OR her “real” expressions/feelings are mostly being masked/faked by the Compulsion and what she’s being forced to do by Lanfear. It tracks! Either way! Insane!!

The other big reason I think this theory works is because of what we find out in the finale — we learn from her conversations with Bayle Domon and Ishamael that Lanfear has been pulling the strings to make this whole season happen all along. (Cue It Was Lanfear All Along music lol). She sold the bits of cuendillar (although I don’t really get why… just for the money?), she seduced Rand, she played Ishamael, all of it. So why not this too? Why not control the Amyrlin seat, if she has the capability and means to do so, especially if she means to take Ishamael off the board and sort of become the de facto leader/strongest of the forsaken. Not really their leader, I know, but it’s a good power play for her is what I’m saying.

Finally, I think this could put us in a REALLY fun place for season 3, with stuff happening at the tower. We could have scenes with Lanfear, Siuan, and Liandrin. We could have Siuan acting increasingly more malevolent or just off somehow, and while most sisters are going with it, Alanna or Leane maybe starts to get suspicious (more Leane please!). We could have Moiraine send the wonder girls back to the tower, ostensibly to continue their training but also because she needs informants to know what Siuan is planning now (which kills her obvs), and because I would love to see them Scooby doo their way through some shit, the three of them figure out what’s going on and somehow (with Alanna’s help?) free Siuan from the Compulsion. Idk but it could be so much fun you guys.

Or, I could be totally wrong. Maybe this is totally not how Compulsion works. I don’t mind either way. This was a super fun thought experiment. But man, if this theory is in any way correct, this will be some of the most twisty TV/dialogue writing I’ve seen in a minute. And, you know, I’m trying to make fishwives happen here! Cmon!

Shout out to the Post Show Recaps podcast deep dive of 2x07 for questioning how Lanfear knew that Siuan had Rand captured and finally clicking this all into place for me. If you’ve got any other pulls from the episode or the season in general that back this theory up, please share in the comments!

#seriously rewatch the episode with this in mind the pieces just fall into place #the drama of it all!#wheel of time #the wheel of time #wot #wot season 2 #wot 2x07 #wheel of time 2x07 #siuan sanche #siuanraine #fishwives #lanfear #the absolute euphoria I will feel if this ends up being correct #only 2 years to find out

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