fic: nine of cups

Mar 18, 2007 21:43

Title: queen of spades
Author: el_em_en_oh_pee
Type: fiction
Length: one-shot; 1205 wc.
Main character or Pairing: Hannah/Pansy
Card: nine of cups.
Card Interpretation: the nine of cups is often seen as the 'wish card'. ( The man on the Nine of Cups reminds me of "the cat who ate the canary." Now, a canary is a pet strictly off limits to hungry felines. Any cat who manages to catch one is going to feel pretty smug about it. This is the feeling tone of the Nine of Cups - pure indulgence and self-satisfaction.
At the physical level, the Nine of Cups is a sign of delight in all the senses. Sights, sounds, tastes, feelings. This card encourages you to seek out pleasure and enjoy your body in every way. You can commune with the natural world as well - the body of Mother Earth. She, too, delights in sharing her abundance.
At the personal level, the Nine of Cups indicates contentment with the way things are. Notice how the man is seated confidently with his arms folded and a smile on his face. He has everything he wants and couldn't be happier about it. "See all my cups!" he seems to say. "Aren't they great?"
Sometimes it's wonderful to sit back and revel in the knowledge that all's right with the world. But a word of caution. You may be tempted to indulge yourself at the cost of someone else (like our mischievous cat!). This may feel great at the time, but sooner or later the feathers around your mouth will be discovered, and regret will set in. Pursuit of pleasure without regard to consequences is never satisfying in the long run.
In many tarot traditions, the Nine of Cups is known as the Wish Card. It shows your wish will come true. A wonderful prospect, but remember your fairy tale lessons. You must be sure you know what you really want and accept the responsibilities that go with your wish. If that is the case, then enjoy your good fortune!). I have taken liberty with that interpretation.
Rating: R-ish
Disclaimer: I do not own hp, any of the mentioned movies, or any of the characters in either. Also, there is a line from a Regina Spektor song in here, which I likewise claim no ownership of.
Warnings: darkness, infidelity, violence, knifeplay(ish), D/s(ish). This is probably one of the most twisted things I've written in awhile.
Summary: They watch movies every weekend. Hannah finds herself taken by the thrill of the tense moments, attracted by the seconds of horror.
Author Notes: Thanks to glastaigsyzygy for the beta! ♥. This also fits the prompts for a host of other things! I'll be using this also for the Femslash50 prompt Changes and the hpfanfic10x10 Hufflepuff/Slytherin prompt faith



They watch King of Hearts on a rainy day, trying their utmost not to look too comfortable with each other. As Private Charles Plumpick works on convincing the insane to get the hell out of Marville, Pansy reaches under the blankets and squeezes Hannah's foot. As the whore of the asylum paints her face, Hannah shifts, resting her head on Pansy's shoulders.

It's all disturbingly familiar. Distressingly, unerringly familiar. (Hannah wants change)

They watch Final Destination the next week. Hannah gets excited at the thrill of the tense moments, even though she's not much for the whole blood and guts thing. Pansy averts her eyes at these parts--she saw enough during the war, she tells Hannah. It's harder for her to face these parts. (Hannah gets the feeling that Pansy's more than uncomfortable with this. Morals and logic and love dictate she find compromise, but this is so entrancing she can't help but watch the extended death scene of that one teacher with a morbid fascination.)

By the time the movie is over, Pansy is looking almost greenish, but Hannah is too taken with the premise of the movie to care. She kisses Pansy, hard (does Pansy think that Hannah is reassuring her, or does she suspect...?) and reaches down, slips her fingers down Pansy's pants and fingers the elastic band on Pansy's underwear. Pansy smiles at her, gratefully, and Hannah swallows her guilt. She beams at Pansy, winks, and slowly undoes the snap at the top of the pants.

On the fourth week of March, they watch a third movie: Vertigo. It's full of mind games and insanity, and it unsettles Hannah a little. Mostly, though, she's intrigued.

She begins to wonder if her interest in the dangerous, in the tensity of these silver-screen sensations is quite normal--quite right. Pansy used to be a Death Eater before she left Voldemort, and was exposed to any number of such moments, in real life, and these movies make her upset. Hannah didn't see any of the horror firsthand, but she is strangely taken with them.

She figures it's normal--Zacharias is probably feeling the exact same way, and Justin, and Susan, and Ernie, and Megan, and, well, everyone. Yes, she thinks, they probably think about the same things.

When they watch Secret Window, Hannah tenses all over for a moment. And as Shooter threatens Mort for the umpteenth time, Hannah smiles lewdly at Pansy and slowly unbuttons her shirt.

When they're done and Mort is eating corn at the end, Pansy asks her why Hannah's been insisting on watching suspenseful movies. Hannah just smiles, tells her that they're thrillers; thus, they're thrilling. And she kisses Pansy hard, biting at her lips to prove exactly how thrilled she is.

But it's still too fucking comfortable.

The next week, they don't watch movies. Hannah's decided that it's become trite, and Pansy is just relieved not to watch another horror flick. Instead, they go out.

Hannah sees an intriguing storefront on their way to Millicent and Anthony's house and insists they go in. She ends up buying a leather ensemble that makes Pansy lick her lips in anticipation, and thumbs the shaft of her wand as the leave.

I love you, they murmur at each other as their hands move, fluid, dancing over that web of skin and nails and hair. You're my everything, Pansy says, and Hannah mirrors her words (she fingers the knife she has hidden under the pillow as she lies flat on Pansy, arching into her and her hands and her tongue, and she comes as she slips her finger against the edge of the blade).

Later that night, as Pansy snores lightly next to her, Hannah brings herself off again. After she's done, she takes the knife on and polishes the edge, sucking on the finger she cut when Pansy was fucking her.

When they watch the original Buffy movie, Hannah holds back a snort. As if that could really happen!

Pansy strokes her hand reassuringly, thinking that Hannah is worried, and Hannah bites her tongue just in time.

They don't have sex that night.

Hannah goes to visit Zacharias the Wednesday after. He fixes chicken and potatoes and they drink the wine Hannah brought from empty jars as he tells her of his growing love for Justin. (He doesn't have a chance he doesn't have a hope). He asks her how things are with Pansy over dessert, and Hannah tells him that everything's fine, that Pansy's being a doll and they're very much in love.

Something stops her from mentioning the spellbooks she's been buying on the black market. Some things are better left unsaid, she figures. Zacharias can be very disapproving at times.

But she does tell Morag when she runs into her at the house of the supplier she's found for devious potions ingredients. Morag looks almost wary for all of three minutes before she grins and claps Hannah on the back. Tells her that she knew Hannah'd shape up sooner or later. Hannah just smiles back at her. Raises an eyebrow.

Morag raises one back and slips her her address as they part ways.

Sometimes Hannah thinks life goes by too quickly. She files her nails and watches as Morag grinningly beats a House-Elf with the flat of a fencing rapier. It's sad, really, how Morag so enjoys such meaningless violence. The House-Elf didn't do anything, and, as he's used to being beaten, won't do anything differently in the future.

Hannah bites into a petit four and glances at the clock. Pansy's expecting her home soon.

She waves Morag's personal maid away from her, reassuring the woman that she was decently good and has the potential to be brilliant at oral, if only she'd practise a little more and possibly brush her teeth right before. The maid nods, straight-faced, and Hannah, overcome with a fit of irritation, hits her hard enough to bruise. Her fingernails score the maid's cheek, which starts bleeding slow drops of blood.

Hannah smiles to herself and licks the blood off, slowly. She swallows and bites the maid's ear, hard, pushing her fingers against the woman's clit and then into her without finesse.

She stops when she feels like it--when the maid is crying and there is blood on Hannah's fingers.

She calls to Morag, tells her that she's going home, and smiles at the maid, signals 'tomorrow'.

A particularly rainy Friday in November: Hannah is watching Richard Scarry's Best Learning Songs Video, Ever! and laughing as Mr. Fix-It doesn't fix it when Pansy comes in. Pansy tells her that the news is full of stories of the Dark Lord rising again, and Hannah is caught between glee at her success and disappointment at being taken for him.

Pansy kneels, head down, waiting for Hannah's next instruction.

Hannah pushes Pansy's bum down, as close to her feet as she can, and straddles her legs. (Pansy looks up hopefully). She kisses her slowly, languorously, hands in hair, the whole shebang. She whispers into Pansy's ear, reminds her of the safe word, ignores Pansy's look of dashed hopes and sudden (repeated) betrayal.

Hannah stands, fingering her wand. Pansy's a doll, really, and Hannah's pretty lucky to have her. (Hannah Summons her toybox, selects a rather large candle, lights the end with her wand, and beckons Pansy closer.)

Pansy's probably lucky that Hannah loves her so much. It's a dangerous world out there.

hannah/pansy, r, by: el_em_en_oh_pee, card: nine of cups, round 1, fic

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