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livinginshambles · 9 months

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How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

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In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn��t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

@targaryenmoony @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @quackitysdrugdealer @gaysludge @acciotwinz @in2meijasworld @shadowbriar @kategables @prongsprincessworld @devilsnightz @lavandersblues @inesven

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #marauders era #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders fanfic

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mangakachan · 1 month

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“Once upon a time, a duck wished to help a prince regain his shattered heart. She was given a magical pendant that allowed her to become the legendary ballerina: Princess Tutu”

Princess Tutu is a show that’s close to my heart, and I really wanted to draw the 4 main characters for this series. There will be 3 designs (or “roles”, if you will) per character, and we start with none other than the titular Princess Tutu herself! 🩰 👑 🌸

Princess Tutu series parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 & 10 / 11 & 12

#princess tutu #ahiru

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stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

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summary: [y/n] and lo’ak are gifted the role of scouting. but, they can’t make it one single day without putting themselves in harm’s way.

lo’ak x oldersister!reader

a/n: okay, so this was formerly titled "strong heart," but i actually ended up rewriting this entire thing because i decided… what the heck was that! the prompt is the same, but i highly recommend rereading because everything else is new (and hopefully improved).

warnings: violence, language, [y/n] being a protective badass older sister, implied killing

tags: @eywas-heir @pinkhotdogsfr

his protector

“oh, come on, little brother!” [y/n] called, her voice quiet overtop the wind. “tell me you can fly faster than that.” the two siblings soared across the blue skies, their ikrans barely avoiding the tops of each tree. every second that they moved, the flaps of their wings left the trees leaning backwards.

lo’ak groaned from behind her. “i can, but we already took a flight this morning, so i’m sorry that he’s a little tired,” he complained, patting a hand on his ikran’s neck causing a purr to rumble down its body.

the pair sully siblings were on scouting duty, their father sending the two of them off as soon as it became apparent that the day was far too busy for him as the olo’eyktan. it didn’t help that neytiri was occupied with tuk and kiri for the day, and neteyam had to attend whatever leadership meetings with his father. so, naturally, [y/n] and lo’ak immediately volunteered for the job.

normally, the parents would have said no, given the piece of work that the duo was. but, they had no choice that day. plus, even if they did say no, the two would have broken the rules and gone anyway, and jake was tired of scolding the two of them.

“excuses, excuses, brother,” [y/n] teased, turning back with a tempting grin, and just to layer it on, [y/n]’s ikran flicked her tail, lightly slapping the snout of lo’ak’s ride.

“hey!” he yelled defiantly, although the older sister could hear the smile in his voice. she braced herself as she heard the flapping wings increase rapidly, wind blowing faster. soon enough, the boy shot out in front of her and her ikran, not missing the chance to flip her off as he passed.

[y/n] laughed, shaking her head. “you are a child, lo’ak.”

“you are the one who started the competition!” he argued exasperatedly.

“ay, perhaps that is true, but at least i’m not a sore loser!” with that, the girl commanded her ikran downwards, the two ducking underneath her brother before pulling up directly in front of them.

and so, the race was officially on. no, they were not very good at keeping an eye on their surroundings, as scouts were supposed to do, but they were very good at sibling bonding. one after the other, they took the lead, alternating for what seemed like miles.

the two could only hear each other's laughs, breathless and smiling. [y/n] was in such a good mood, she’d almost missed it. she’d almost flown right through it and not even batted an eye. luckily for both of them, her ikran was on high alert ever since they entered the area a few paces back.

the laughter faded from [y/n]’s throat when she felt her ikran clicking her tongue, the soft vibrations sending her eyes up and ears perked. that’s when she finally noticed, immediately slowing to a stop, the two just keeping themselves flying in place.

[y/n] could feel her younger brother hurtling towards her, so as a last second attempt to stop him from ramming into them from behind, she put her hand up with her palm facing backwards. she thanked eywa that lo’ak was paying enough attention to notice, the boy stopping right next to her.

“[y/n]?” he panted, confused. but, it didn’t take long for him to realize either.

below them sat a camp, seemingly empty. but, it was new. the area was littered with human-like belongings—machinery, tents, an old campfire.

“that wasn’t marked on the map, was it?” [y/n] knew the answer, but she wanted to check anyway. as if she had a little bit of hope left. beside her, lo’ak silently shook his head no. “well, shit.”

“at least we have something to report?”

[y/n] quickly pushed a grin off of her lips at his comment, trying to remain serious. “is anyone in the camp? because if not, then where are they?”

lo’ak shrugged helplessly. “maybe they’re sleeping in.”

“it’s evening, skxwang,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“okay, then they’re going to bed early.”

if she could smack him on the head, she would. “without anyone keeping watch? lo’ak, why do you lack intelligence?”

the boy sputtered, taking major offense to her comment. “hey, at least i’m creative.”

“creative, or stupid?” she muttered under her breath. she inhaled and exhaled a slow, deep breath. [y/n] was currently measuring two different choices. was she, a) going to be a good daughter or b) going to be a good clan member.

lucky for her, she didn’t even have to make a choice. “lo’ak!” she cried as her brother aimed his ikran downwards, slowly decreasing his altitude to land right outside the camp while still being hidden under the cover of trees.

“come on, [y/n], you know you wanted to,” he teased, a knowing smile resting on his lips.

“yes, but i wanted to make the call since i am the leader of this duo. mom said!” she argued bitterly, annoyance threaded through her tone.

the boy hummed, amused. “now who sounds like the child.”

with a huff of annoyance, [y/n] followed her younger brother down, landing their ikrans in the trees. carefully and very quietly, the two dismounted. from where they perched, [y/n] saw a perfect view of the camp’s entrance.

“it’s dead,” she whispered, shaking her head in confusion. with a quick look around at where they were located, storing it in the back of her brain, the girl hopped down. she landed softly on her feet, weight distributed perfectly thanks to the teachings of her mother.

lo’ak was not as quick to understand. “[y/n]?” he hissed, bringing her attention back up to the tree. “what are you doing?”

[y/n] only grinned. “come on, it’s empty! let’s explore a little, get some actual dirt to bring back to dad.” the boy shuffled warrily. “wait a minute,” she teased. “you’re not scared, are you, little brother?”

“what?” he sputtered. “uh, no! i’m just thinking. you know, like a warrior does. i’m willing to bet you didn’t think twice before jumping down there.”

she stuck her tongue out. “what’s the fun in thinking? now, come on, brother! hurry up, we do not have all day.” with that, the girl turned back around towards the camp, taking quick and quiet steps.

she grinned as she heard the huffs of lo’ak his own soft footsteps following soon after her. “the best way to approach this,” she began as soon as he caught up with her, “is to go in together. have your knife ready just in case, but as far as it looks, it is completely abandoned.”

lo’ak nodded. “do you think they have guns we could steal?” he pondered, a smile glued to his features. “because i don’t think dad would be too angry if we returned with some materials.”

“i like how you think, little brother.” and so, they finally entered the camp.

“why would they leave all of their stuff here?” lo’ak wondered aloud, looking around at the ammo and resources left behind. there was far too much to bring all of it back, but they could at least load their ikrans with a few guns and bullets.

[y/n] was thinking the same thing, although she found it hard to believe that they would just drop everything and run. unless there’d been a threat, but this was a typically dormant side of the forest. the only animal that actually caused a hazard around this part were herds of hexapede, but it was clear that a stampede hadn’t been the threat to drive them away based on how put together everything still was.

[y/n] scratch her head as she looked around, ducking under tents to check what other indicators might be around. “the sleeping bags aren’t messy,” she commented. “they didn’t leave in a rush this morning. they at least had time to wake up.”

“they also ate breakfast,” lo’ak added, his fingers brushing against the cinderblock that surrounded the campfire. “and maybe lunch.”

she sucked her teeth, not understanding. “whatever drove them away was either too dangerous to grab their guns, or they just weren’t smart enough.”

lo’ak chuckled at that. “i wouldn’t be shocked if it were the latter.”

“or,” a clicking sound had [y/n]’s ears perked up, eyes alert and hand on her knife. “there was a lot more materials that we don’t know about.”

for a second, time froze. she could feel the change in the air, the smell of gunpowder just before the shot was fired. before the sound had even reached their ears, [y/n] launched herself off the ground, covering the body of her younger brother with her own.

the shot rung out, embedding a bullet into the tree that was previously directly behind lo’ak.

“holy shit,” lo’ak rasped, eyes wide as he stared at the spot on the tree. that could’ve been me.

not a second went by before [y/n] was back on her feet, two guns in her hands from what they ransacked.

lo’ak barely avoided another bullet, rolling to the side and behind the cover of a dead log. he gasped for air, the overwhelming stench of gunpowder clouding his senses. he couldn’t even see the familiar body of his sister.

but, from where he hid, he did watch the mutual interaction as they shot back and forth, one bullet after another. he felt pride swell in his chest as an avatar’s body dropped across from his sister’s side of the forest.

he shakily clutched his intercom necklace, words quiet as he told her, “one down, two more.” he was at the perfect position for spying, if not helpful for the battle field. “more left—your left. a branch above,” he directed, smiling as yet another fell.

“where’s the last one?” his sister questioned breathlessly in his ear. his eyes rose back up, searching the trees. where’d he gone?

it was just a second too late when he felt an extremely unnerving presence rising up behind him.

“[y/n]!” he yelled out loud, alerting his sister of exactly where he was located. the older girl stood up from her hiding place behind a tree, a gun in each hand. her eyes widened at her baby brother stuck in the grasp of an avatar.

from where he struggled, lo’ak watched the eyes of his sister. just tell me when to duck, he begged, his stare desperate and terrified. and then.. she signalled.

the boy dropped all of his weight at once, catching the avatar off-guard. he cursed in confusion at the boy’s problematic antics, the only thing keeping him from having to struggle with the na’vi boy anymore being the bullet that left [y/n]’s gun, embedding itself right between his eyebrows.

as the avatar’s body fell, silence followed. [y/n] collapsed to the ground, exhaustion creeping through her bones. lo’ak could barely move, trying to catch his breath from the major chokehold that avatar’d had on him.

eventually, someway, somehow, the two crawled back to each other. lo’ak felt himself melt in the warm embrace of his big sister, his protector.

“i’m sorry,” she sobbed, clutching his head against her chest. “i’m so sorry, baby brother. i did not mean to put you in harm’s way.”

he only chuckled, tears stinging the corners of his own eyes. “you did not endanger me, sister, you saved me.”

part ii

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #loak sully #sully family x reader #sully family x y/n #loak x reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x oldersister!reader #lo'ak x reader #loak x you #loak x y/n

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lesbianfakir · 11 months

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There’s a huge focus in tutu of defying fate but something I love is how again and again the characters choose to embrace Drosselmeyer’s tragic ending.

Even after learning Tutu can never be with the one she loves, Duck still puts on the pendant. Rue chooses to put on the black shoes and become Kraehe though it makes her miserable. Never once does Fakir consider leaving Mytho’s side, knowing it will most likely lead to his gruesome death. Even Mytho chooses to receive his heart and return to the story, inviting the capability to experience tragedy into himself once more.

Why cling so hard to these tragic fates?

In the eyes of the characters it’s better to immerse oneself in another’s bitter role than be stripped to the ugly, naked self. It’s like Fakir says: everyone wants to be given a role to play and no one wants a story to end.

Sure, Fakir could've left mytho’s side and likely lived, but without the legacy of The Knight be left with only Fakir. Better to be a doomed knight than a frightened young boy unable to protect those he loves and terrified of losing anyone else.

Likewise with Rue though It hurts to be Kraehe, without the security of a princess, she’s just a hurting, abused girl who could never hope to catch the attention of a prince.

Drosselmeyer even encourages Duck to let herself disappear in the lake of despair so she could live on in memory as Tutu rather than as a simple duck. This theme is taken to the extreme: even death is seen as preferable to true vulnerability.

Princess Tutu follows a cast of teenagers deliberately hurting themselves to hide from their fragile, vulnerable side. They'd more readily accept a gruesome fate than face themselves in the mirror.

#princess tutu #lea talks #not saying anything that hasnt been said before but i have FEELINGS #obviously theres a lot of nuance here but that would be an even longer post

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authornina · 10 months

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"Dr. Kat"

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

“Mia make sure you stop at the pharmacy and get your prescriptions before class. I don’t want you flaring up again,” Katrina instructed her daughter.

“I know, mother…” Mia sighed. “I’m not a baby.”

“You will always be my baby,” she responded, pinching her pride and joy’s chocolate cheek.

Katrina had been raising her eighteen-year-old daughter Mia by herself since her husband died shortly after she’d given birth. It was hard for them in the beginning, but she did what she had to do to give her baby a decent life.

Mitchell whom everyone called “Mitch,” was born and raised in Pepper. He met Katrina on a night out at the scope, where people just had their cars booming and girls walked around trying to get chosen. When his eyes laid on Katrina, he couldn’t get over the square beauty. He knew immediately that she didn’t belong out there with all their hoodlum asses and he was right. One of her friends had dragged her along.

Mitch approached her and Katrina was so shy. He tried to get her number, but she told him her parents didn’t like boys calling the house, so he gave her his. Sometimes she called and sometimes she didn’t. For a while, she ducked and dodged him until she gave in and let him take her out.

One date turned into twenty and they were inseparable.

Mitch loved that she was a good girl and green to his way of life.

The first time he brought her to Pepper, Katrina held onto his arm tightly while he introduced her to several people. He knew it was overwhelming. The loud music, kids out after dark, weed smoke, and foul language but she wanted to know him and Pepper…Pepper was him.

It wasn’t her usual environment but for Mitch, Katrina adjusted. After a while, she didn’t mind hanging around his friends. She even drank and smoked sometimes.

Their love was special and Katrina, although fighting it in the beginning, knew Mitch was her one. So, when she turned eighteen, he married her and gave her his child. His one and only.

Katrina’s family didn’t support the union and like many other girls from the other sides of the tracks who’d found their way to Pepper, she was disowned but he promised to always be there for her and their child.

Mia’s birth changed Mitch for the better. He couldn’t believe he had a daughter and would spend hours simply staring at her. She was a replica of him but in girl form.

When Mitch died, it shattered her world.

Not even two weeks after their baby girl was born, he was sadly gunned down.

It nearly broke Katrina in half because he was all she had.

But for Mia, she forced herself to push through the pain. Her baby girl was the strength she needed to keep going.

Katrina not wanting to start over even though the neighborhood wasn’t all that great, decided to stay and thug it out. It was the best decision she made because eventually they were given renovations and Pepper had been elevating ever since.

Raising Mia alone wasn’t easy while trying to finish her advanced training as a registered nurse and working during the week to keep a roof over their head and food in their stomachs.

Katrina usually kept to herself not socializing much, but everyone knew her and little Mia as she was friends with many children in the neighborhood and because of her late husband who was pretty popular. She used to hang out and such before they had their daughter but after, Katrina took her role as a mother pretty seriously and gave up the wildlife.

One day, Karina found herself in a bind. She’d gotten her days mixed up and didn’t realize she had to work so when her boss who was already tired of her lateness and call-outs called asking if everything was okay and would she be coming in, she nearly had a conniption because she needed her job.

Not being able to find a babysitter at the last minute, Katrina went to the only person most people in the neighborhood trusted with their children. Sunny.

On the way up the street, she could see a bunch of kids in front of her door, while Sunny, her sister, and Tori sat on the porch smoking. Her baby daddy and his friends were playing loud music from their cars which she hated because it was unnecessarily loud. Little Oak sat on the step with headphones on, and a drawing pad in his lap tuning the world around him out.

“Hey Sunny,” Katrina spoke, adjusting the bag on her shoulder while holding six-year-old Mia’s hand.

“Hey, girl—ah!” she, Tori, and Trixie screamed while ducking for cover. “Travis don’t make me whoop your ass!” Sunny shouted at him after they were almost taken out by water balloons. “Senior get your son before I hurt him!” she yelled to her boyfriend who sat in his car unbothered with the door open, smoking a spliff and bobbing his head to the music.

“I’m just playin’ momma dang!”

“Leave your mother alone nigga,” Senior told his son. “All y’all go up the street with that shit,” he instructed, Travis, his nephew Player, his second oldest Daun, and godson Frederick.

“Anyway,” Sunny rolled her eyes. “Wassup girl? Hey pretty Mimi…”

“Hi,” Mia waved shyly.

“I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if you could keep Mia for me…just for a few hours, I forgot I had to work today and—”

“Katrina, girl,” Sunny cut her off. “You know I will keep her for you, I told you that shit back when Mitchell passed that you wasn’t alone out here.”

“Facts,” Senior agreed. “You good and shit?” he asked. Mitch was a good friend of his and his death was felt around Pepper.

“Yea,” Katrina nodded. “I’m okay…but thank you, Sunny, so much.”

“Come on up here Mia.”

“Hi Oak,” she spoke passing him along the way, but he couldn’t hear a thing.

“I’ll be back around eight o’clock to—”

“Go do what you gotta do, this baby will be fine,” Sunny said, rubbing Mia’s cute little pigtails.

That was the start of a friendship Katrina never knew she needed. “If I’m not here when you get back, she’ll be with big momma and you know she don’t play that shit, so Mia in good hands.”

Katrina believed that because Ms. Pepper wasn’t the one or the two to try. She ran her household with an iron fist and even banned Sunny from her own children when she thought her daughter was messing up.

Although Sunny was much wilder and engaged in things she couldn’t see herself doing, she respected her and appreciated how she would help her with Mia and treat her baby as if she were one of her own.

When she got an official job working as a registered nurse, Sunny and Senior threw her a party and everything to celebrate her accomplishments and not giving up after Mitch passed. It was the first time since he died that Katrina felt free again. She had friends and they were supportive.

Every day even on school days, she’d drop her baby off and Sunny or her mother would get Mia together with the other children for school or keep her on the weekends.

Katrina would be forever grateful to the Allens for all they’d done for her and Mia.

Now at eighteen and in college, Katrina couldn’t thank anyone but God and her community for seeing them through. Mia was beautiful, smart, and had a good head on her shoulders. Although she was now rumored to be dating Truck, one of Sunny’s boys much to her dismay, her baby girl was perfect.

“Have a good day at work ma,” Mia said, kissing her mother’s cheek. She usually kept the car while Katrina worked a twelve-hour shift especially when she had class.

“You too baby, call me, beep me—”

“I know Mom…” Mia laughed. “I’ll be fine,” she said with the most beautiful smile. Her mother was a worrier and always stayed on top of Mia because she was her only baby. A lot of violence and nonsense had been going on lately and Katrina just wanted to know her baby was safe at all times.

“I love you,” Katrina gathered her things, getting out of the car. “More than anything in the world.”

“I love you too mommy, I’ll text you when I make it to class.”

“Okay, baby…”

Katrina shut the door and watched as her daughter turned the corner. She sighed and mentally prepared herself for a long night.

Being a nurse wasn’t easy, but it paid the bills and kept them comfortable. She owned her home and car while being able to put Mia through school with little to no help from federal aid.

After four hours on her aching feet, Katrina sat down at the nurse’s station for the first time since she arrived. She was working the emergency department tonight and it had been non-stop.

“Hey girl,” her co-worker, Neil spoke. “It’s busy as hell tonight.”

“I know and mostly everything was major.”

“Somethin’ in the air tonight,” he pursed his lips, rubbing hand sanitizer on.

“We got another one!” an EMT alerted as they pushed an unrecognizable victim through the doors.

“Damn,” Neil fussed, putting on gloves. “I just sat my ass down.”

Katrina was trying to get in where she fit in as everyone crowded the victim while trying to get her into the back.

“What happened?” Dr. Troy asked, stepping into the room to assess.

As everything was being explained and Katrina was following the doctor's orders, something fell from the victim’s hand onto the floor.

Slowly, with a shaky hand, she picked up the gold necklace with Mia on it.

It was the necklace Mitch had gotten for their daughter when she was born.

Katrina slowly looked up at the bloody hand as the flatline played loudly

“We need a crash cart!”

“Mia…” Katrina whispered, somehow finding her footing to stand. “Mia?”

“Katrina, what’s wrong?” Neil noticed the tears streaming down her face.

“MIA!” she screamed. “This is my baby!” she pushed people out of the way to try and see her daughter, but her face was bloody, and her nose looked to be detached from her face. “MY BABY!”

“Get her out of here,” Dr. Troy instructed. “Mia stay with me.”

“NO!” Katrina screamed as Neil and another nurse tried their best to remove her. “That is my baby!” she yelled with her hand out. “Please God, not my baby!”

“Katrina,” Neil held her tightly finding himself emotional. “I am so sorry…”

“My Mia…” she sobbed. “That’s my baby…”

Everything stopped when her daughter was declared dead at 10:07 PM.

No one knew what to say or do.

Katrina wouldn’t move from the spot she sat inside the on-call room.

“Is there anyone we can call?” Dr. Troy asked, wanting to personally handle his nurse. He’d been working with Katrina since she started and couldn’t imagine the pain she felt at the moment.

“Mia…”

“Katrina…” he sympathetically replied. “I am so sorry.”

“Mia…”

Hours later, Sunny appeared at the hospital. Neil had taken it upon himself to go to her home and figure out someone that could care for her at this time. When he arrived, his unknown presence definitely alerted the residents until he began explaining himself.

“Katrina…” Sunny sat her bag down, slowly approaching her friend. “I’m here…”

“Mia…”

“Yea,” Sunny sniffled. “Mia…she’s…she’s gone.”

“NOOOO!” Katrina shouted dropping to her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Sunny held her in her arms, rocking her from side to side. She couldn’t imagine the pain her friend was feeling. Losing a child was something she never wanted to experience in her life. All of her children had better go after her because Lord she didn’t want to ever feel what Katrina was right now. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you…I got you…”

“My Mia…”

“I know baby, I know…”

When Mitch died, she still had Mia.

Now that Mia was gone, Katrina had no one.

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tyrantisterror · 2 months

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Ok, one more Utena post even though I'm technically done with this year's rewatch.

There's a trope - an archetype, really, though I'm not sure if it's actually been named as one yet - in fairy tales where a female character, often a young one, is given instructions or some other form of social contract to follow, disobeys, and suffers peril and misfortune as a result. Little Red strays from the path and gets vored by a wolf, Goldilocks breaks into a house and gets eaten by bears, etc. It feels pointed to me because boy characters who do the same get the opposite result more often than not - Jack not only repeatedly breaks into a giant's house, but robs the place several times, makes out with the giant's wife, and murders the giant in cold blood when he's caught. There's counter examples you can find (boy who cried wolf did not come to a good end), but overall, the formula is:

disobedient boy gets a shitload of money and fame, often slays a monster or beast along the way

disobedient girl gets punished, often by way of being mauled by wild animals

With me so far?

Ok, so, Utena opens by establishing a purposeful artifice, telling the prologue of the story in the style of a shadowplay theater production, and structuring the narration as if it's a fairy tale. Utena, in this telling of the start of the story, is the disobedient girl. She is instructed to remain pure of heart so she can become a princess and marry a prince, and decides instead to be a pirnce herself. Not a pirncess, a dragon-slaying, damsel-rescuing prince. Instructions disobeyed, cue up the wild animals of disproportionate moralizing bad ends. They even end the narration with, "But was [a girl wanting to be a prince] such a good idea?"

In essence, gender roles, immutable, unchangeable gender roles, are the fairy tale that our characters playing out. And, as the show goes on, it extend even farther than that, where all sorts of societal expectations we force upon the young - gender roles, compulsive heterosexuality and monogamy, on and on it goes - are that fairy tale, that theater script, that theatrical artifice. These kids are being forced to become archetypes against their will.

And, by the standards and tropes of fairy tales, Utena must be punished for her disobedience. She must face a great humbling that either destroys her or forces her to obey. That's how the fairy tale goes - that's what's in the script of the shadowplay.

We even get reminded of this with our Nanami side stories - Nanami, even more than Utena, is the archetypal Disobedient Fairy Tale girl, and her episodes always focus on her getting humbled for one of her abundant character flaws (and often involve some trauma related to rampaging animals). She constantly reminds us what will become of the disobedient girl - and thus what will become of Utena.

But Nanami also breaks her narrative, which ends up being what our heroes must do as well. When she's set up for her ultimate humiliation - tricked by the brother who she has misplaced a great deal of her desperate need for affection onto into believing he's not biologically related to him, and thus could consummate her icky childish crush on him if she truly wanted to, which, as is later revealed, would just end up being for real incest since they actually ARE biologically related, and is all around icky regardless - Nanami decides to fucking bail. She wants to get away from everyone and her brother especially, she wants to go to another school, she wants to exit the narrative. She's forced to have a final bout with Utena, but ultimately not only avoids her ultimate humiliation/punishment for her disobedience, but makes good on her desire to leave the role she's assigned - from this point on, she has nothing to do with the plot of the show, appearing briefly in the background now and then and ducking out of the movie entirely.

And that, ultimately, is what Utena and Anthy do - as do at least three members of the supporting cast, possibly, depending on how you interpret things. They look at the fairy tale they've been made to live in and decide to fight tooth, nail, and tire tread (when Utena turbo teens into a car) to escape it. The ultimate disobedience, you could call it - a full on revolution.

I also think it's notable that the ultimate villain of the story, the final antagonist, is the prince who gave Utena the instructions, Akio/Dios. Dios himself tried to live up to his role to the letter, to follow his own instructions/archetype as the charming prince who rescues damsels and slays monsters. And it nearly killed him. But rather than shake off the archetype, he's decided to own and exploit it, using it to control everyone around him - he becomes the one who masterminds the literal machinery of the narrative, the industrialized, heartless mechanisms of a formulaic world where people can only live the roles they're assigned and never go off script. And when it's destroyed, so is he - he has allowed himself to be someone who can only exist in this world of limited, simplified, impossible-to-live-up-to roles.

Like, as meta writing goes, it's just a fucking banger.

#Here's to all the disobedient girls out there #Valentines with Utena

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radioactivepeasant · 2 months

Text

Snippets Thursday: Meddling Mar (part 1 of 2)

A two-part piece to avoid a super long post, jumping ahead to how Damas and Phobos got their suspicions about the boys confirmed (part two is Damas confronting Jak over it)

The net thumped against the supports of the dock as Phobos hauled it upward. The catch was small for the evening; normally she wouldn't have even considered bringing it in so early. But the scanners had picked up a storm blowing in, and the last thing she wanted was for her net to get dragged out over the reef -- or for the Scylla to get any ideas about free snacks if she decided to shelter in the lagoon. Small though the catch may have been, it would just have to suffice until the weather was more favorable. Phobos supposed she could always take another overnight trip for larger fish later in the week. Maybe Jak would agree to let Mar tag along.

Phobos's hands stilled over the net of wriggling greenbellies. She stared out at the water without really seeing it as her thoughts drifted to the two boys who had drifted into their lives. Or, drifted back into their lives.

She knew her son when she saw him. He could have been five or eight or twenty-five and she would have known him. Denial at this point was foolish. But what she couldn't understand was Jak.

Phobos knew the child she'd borne. Knew every curl on his head, every dimple and birthmark. But to her knowledge, she'd only given birth once. And Jak...

Jak looked at her with Mar's eyes. He smiled with Mar's left-cheek dimple. And according to Damas, beneath the scarf he never took off, Jak had Mar's portwine stain on the back of his neck.

Phobos didn't need the blood results from the monks to know who Jak was. What she didn't understand was why.

Why had the Precursors given their lost son back, in two different bodies? Why did the older Mar call himself Jak? How had he come to be? And did he even know the impossibility of his own existence?

The wind began to pick up, sending a spray of salt into Phobos's face. She sputtered and spat. Served her right for getting distracted. Grumbling to herself, the angler slung the net over a pole and balanced it across her shoulders. It was getting to be time to take shelter, and her dawdling meant she might not make it to the tower before the sands picked up.

As she trudged through the West Market, shops closed their shutters and people nailed down tarps over stands. The walls and cliffs would protect most of Spargus from the winds, but the West Quarter was open to the sea. Things sometimes got a little dicey on the coast.

"Captain!" Someone called across the street, and Phobos spotted one of the summer semester teachers for the little ones.

"Oye, Captain Phobos!"

"Wind's picking up, Korah," Phobos warned her, "Is everyone home?"

The younger Spargan shook her head with a worried frown. "Not yet! I've got Seek with me -- the new boy? Seek? -- he refuses to go home! Says he needs you."

Phobos dropped the net immediately.

"Clean the net and those are yours," she said hastily to the startled shopkeeper beside her. Then she raced across the street.

Sand was beginning to carry along the wind, stinging her face as she caught up to Korah.

"Where is-" She caught herself quickly before saying Mar. "Where is he?"

The teacher gestured with the stump of her right arm. "I convinced him to wait in the Chime Sisters' place so I could look for you. I'm sorry, Captain. I know you're busy. The little guy's really taken a shine to you, though."

She ducked into a half alley between shops, looking for some relief from the wind.

"Don't know if he's showed you any of his classwork or not, but he picked you for his presentation on important roles in the community."

Despite her worry, a warmth filled Phobos's chest. "I uh. I know," she answered, just a little bashful. "It's taped up in my boat cabin."

So much had changed. Mar didn't suck his thumb anymore. He didn't respond to old nicknames. He didn't snuggle anymore, or want to be carried. He didn't call her Mommy -- that one hurt most -- but something, something was still there. Perhaps it was instinct. Or perhaps she'd rebuilt it with her own two hands by simply being present.

Phobos followed Korah to the two story building that held the Chime sisters' shop and apartment. Just as the teacher had said, Mar sat just inside, huddled next to the door with his knees drawn to his chest. He looked sullen. Like he couldn't decide between anger and sadness. Immediately, Phobos knelt in front of him with a worried frown.

"It's about to storm, minnow," she said, "Why aren't you home? Where's Jak, he usually picks you up by now, doesn't he?"

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say. Mar's brows fell into a fierce scowl.

"Jak left me!" he answered in short, terse signs.

That didn't make any sense. Jak was devoted to his little brother! Phobos glanced at the women sheltering around her and then back at Mar.

"I'll take him up to Damas’s," she said. "We'll get this straightened out after the storm blows over."

Nadia Chime clucked her tongue and nodded. "You get that little sprout out of this weather, cap'n!'

Phobos held her hands out to Mar. "Come on, you. Let's go see Damas, eh? Bet you he kept Jak late for training again."

Mar shook his head angrily. This time, tears beaded up in his eyes. But he reached out and grabbed Phobos's hands anyway, using them as leverage to propel himself into her arms.

Something was very wrong.

"Hey, hey," Phobos murmured, returning the embrace, "It's okay, baby, I've got you."

She shoved down the beginnings of anxiety fluttering in her stomach. The sooner she got to the tower, the sooner she could regroup with Damas.

"We need to move fast if we don't want to get sandburn. Can I carry you, minnow?"

Silently, Mar nodded into her chest. Phobos took a breath, scooped up her little boy, and made a dash for the residential sector.

Something's wrong with Jak. He's hurt, or he's sick, he must be. He wouldn't leave Mar. He wouldn't!

By the time she'd made it to the bridge tunnel that led to the tower door, the storm was beginning to sweep across the eastern part of the city. Wind howled down streets an alleys like a dune-wolf looking for prey, and kangarats scurried for cover while Leapers bedded down and covered their heads with their vestigial wings, as they did in the wild. Phobos hefted Mar higher in her arms and made for the door marked with the great spiral wyrm.

"Almost inside, Mar," she said, trying to comfort him.

Just as he had every time she'd slipped his name into conversation before, the child failed to correct her.

The walls of the tower were thick, almost erasing the wind entirely. Phobos stepped into the elevator and sat down as it rose. She set Mar down on her lap and took advantage of the silence to ask, "What did you mean "Jak left"? Is he on a mission?"

Mar still looked angry, but tears stained his dusty cheeks. "He left!" Stupid Haven's stupid governor whined about all the trouble happening -- but it's only happening because they tried to kill us, so stupid Jak left to keep them away from Spargus because they're all so STUPID!"

Phobos felt a knot forming in her stomach.

"Haven?! Why the- why in the world would Jak listen to them? And why would he try to keep them away from the city by himself?"

And with that, the dam burst. The silent trickles of tears turned into sobs that shook Mar's little body as he signed, "Because of me. I'm a bad brother."

"What?! No, nonono you are not a bad brother!" Phobos wiped tears from round cheeks and rocked her son back and forth. "Why would you think that?!"

"Cause it's my fault he left!" Mar hiccuped, and his signs shook. "The Council guys in Haven are looking for me, cos I go where Jak goes. And he- he- he-"

"He left so the council would look for you somewhere else," Phobos guessed grimly.

A fresh flood of tears soaked the front of her tunic as Mar cried. He clung to her the way he used to as a toddler, wailing into her chest. The elevator locked into place and Damas was already running towards them, having heard the cries, before Phobos even had a chance to stand up.

"Pho! What's wrong? What's happening?"

Phobos's face was pale as she looked up at him.

"Daym," she asked, "When did you last see Jak?"

Damas’s blood ran cold.

Part Two

#fic prompts #writing prompts #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #free day thursday #meddling mar #meddling mar au #jak and daxter mar #captain phobos #this is when Jak goes back to Haven #he's going to be extremely grounded when he gets back #especially because the monks finally get results on the dna test while he's in haven

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yandere-toons · 2 years

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Can I request platonic (father figure) hcs for Bruno Madrigal (Encanto), Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck (LTS)? Thank you sm ✨🕺

Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Bruno Madrigal (Father Figure! Platonic Headcanons)

WARNING: child neglect, yandere, toxic mindsets.

A.N. - This was fun! I wouldn't mind doing it for more characters.

Bugs Bunny (The Looney Tunes Show)

Although he is much more composed than Daffy, Bugs teaches the kid to prioritize fun over duty. Work and school play second fiddle to games and recreation. Bugs is adamant about telling off anyone who protests against his parenting style, taking a condescending approach to these people and hinting that his kid is happier than theirs.

Bugs is the type of dad who plays dress-up with the kid, and while he is at it, he gives lessons on how to trick others via different costumes. The kid is taught how to subtly manipulate and turn conversations, a fact that Bugs applauds and encourages. He is happy to assist in many of these schemes as long as they do not physically hurt anyone.

Lola thinks of herself as the kid's mother and acts like she and Bugs are a married couple with a child. She argues with strangers about her legitimacy as a mother and Bugs' legitimacy as a father, leading Bugs to salvage the situation by agreeing to take Lola and the kid to a family dinner.

Bugs is comfortable being seen alongside the kid in public, as he considers himself the father and a superb one at that. However, if the kid insists on a solo mission and Bugs gets concerned, he tends to follow the kid in drag and masquerade as an ordinary worker or civilian throughout the trip.

If Bugs were to meet the kid's birth parents, he would demean them and make it obvious that he does not care for their presence in the kid's life, for there is no possibility of Bugs renouncing his role as a father figure. He makes room for the kid to stay in his house and is more than willing to kick Daffy out of the spare bedroom to the couch.

Daffy Duck (The Looney Tunes Show)

Daffy did not have much of a father in his youth, and the few times that the man was around, he was neglectful and emotionally unavailable. As a result, Daffy has little to no idea what he is doing in terms of fatherhood but will act like he is an expert on the topic.

He claims that the kid's birth parents or legal guardians are hopelessly inept and should just hand the kid over to him. If a custody battle breaks out, Daffy relies on the collective funds of Bugs and Porky to pay the legal fees and refuses to drop the case until he exhausts the opposition.

Daffy is a bit of a deadbeat dad, as he spends most of his days lazing around Bugs' house. Many of his friends, such as Lola and Porky, are happy to watch the kid for a night or two or three, leaving Daffy with virtually nothing to show for his status as the kid's father figure. He sets a bad example and does not mind that the kid may follow it.

He lets the kid eat, say and do pretty much anything unless it inconveniences him. If someone tells him to better discipline his kid, Daffy throws away these criticisms like a pile of trash and insults whoever said it. To prove his superior parenting style, Daffy then gives the kid money that was first given to him by Bugs and says to go wild with it.

If the kid requires it, Tina finds herself doing most of the caregiving. She hounds Daffy about his lacking sense of responsibility and argues that he should abdicate his fatherly title if he is unwilling to put forward the effort. Daffy responds with the assurance that he is a model father, not caring to realise how much he is mirroring his own father.

Bruno Madrigal

Until he is welcomed into the family again, almost everyone thinks Bruno is unfit to be a father of any kind. They say he is dangerous, that he brings nothing but doom and gloom to those around him. It takes months before people on the street quit glaring at him every time he is seen with the kid in public.

Bruno himself believes that he is unsuitable for a long time and does not understand why a kid would form an emotional attachment to him. He approaches fatherhood with palpable awkwardness and hesitancy, often requiring the kid to initiate interactions beyond a simple hello and goodbye.

He becomes more open and responsive to the idea over time, and eventually, Bruno gathers the courage to introduce his rats. Bruno is overjoyed if the kid likes them or at least learns to like them, sending the rats to watch over the kid in his absence and offering to have the rats perform the kid's favourite program whenever the urge strikes.

If people continue to give him trouble for acting as a father figure, Bruno takes on a bitter attitude towards this prejudice against him. He complains about it in private and claims that he does as fine a job as anyone else. Bruno puts his foot down when someone discriminates against the kid because of him.

Bruno is willing to adopt the kid, but as for the kid's birth parents or legal guardian, he struggles to talk to them. If he or his rats discovers that they are mistreating the kid, Bruno declares that he is the new father and will not take no for an answer. He looks to Alma and the rest of the Madrigals for support if this evolves into a greater dispute.

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

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toulousewayne · 1 year

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How Batfamily Members Spend Valentine’s Day

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce doesn’t make a big deal out of the day and typical will give find ways to show his appreciation instead of outright saying it. Like the WatchTower needs it’s technology updated to the lastest Wayne Tech operating Systems, and when J’onn comes in it’s all brand state-of the art technology and state of the art systems.

Alfred brought up a small cas iron pan he liked. He finds a brand new set of cookware from the catalogues he was eyeing.

Ace and Titus have chewed up all there toys. Damian goes to let them out but there two busy chewing on Green Arrow and Green Lantern plushies that squeak.

Alfred Pennyworth:

Alfred unlike Bruce will outright show others how he appreciates and loves them. He will be sure his family will know just how much he cares and loves them.

He starts by making a large plate of heart shaped chocolate chip pancakes, with fresh whipped cream, Canada maple syrup (The imported fancy stuff.) And fresh cut strawberries.

He also makes his famous Chocolate Cookies to go with dinner. (See Jason.)

Dick Grayson:

Let’s be honest this man is a little bit of Casanova. He buys box chocolate, and teddy bears for all his partners;past, present and alleged. (*Cough Wally *Cough)

For his siblings however they get his full attention for the day. No matter if he really just wants to be alone he pushes that to the side for one day. Damian wants to feed the ducks, Dick and him are at the park at 6 a.m. just to feed them.

Tim has been distant and threw himself into work, Dick drags him to a nice lunch where the two can push work aside and catch up. He even searched months with Babs help found a rare limited addition of different old English books and gifted them to Jason. Who nearly crushed Dick in a hug and told him to never speak of this again or he would shoot him in his knees.

Barbara Gordon:

Babs always gifts her Father the same thing every year. A pack of his favorite coffee, a brand new travel thermos, and a handmade card It’s a tradition. But for her siblings she’s a little less planned out but none the less it’s still thoughtfully.

Duke has been getting behind in night classes due to Daily Patrol but refuses to tell Bruce in fear he’ll be disappointed or bench him. Barbara comes up with a new version of his helmet that while he is busy fighting or even patrolling it is programmed to go over his notes for him as well as play his lectures from the previous class to get him prepared for the next test.

Cass really wants to audition for a lead in Gotham Ballerina production of Black Swan but she’s self doubting herself. So Barbara has the dance room in Wayne Manor cleared and has Cass practice along with her while also giving her pointers and giving her words of encouragement. Cass tries out and lands the role of the Black Swan.

Jason Todd:

Jason would never admit it but he sees Valentine’s Day the same way as Bruce. He doesn’t make a big deal out of and he specifically tries to avoid it. Of course he fails. Jason would rather jump into Killer Croc’s cell than tell his family how much he loves them,but they now that he does and won’t say it unless someone is on Death’s front door.Everyone loves his food and that’s just a given. The few days prior to Valentines Day Stephanie noticed a Tuba-ware container of her favorite food on her dresser. There isn’t a note she knows who it’s from and she’s just excited she doesn’t have to eat canned ravioli for the third time this week.

Selina comes to her apartment after being out of town and without mentioning she’s coming home to find a warm plate of Chicken Florentine in her microwave which makes the whole apartment smell heavily.

It’s not a surprise to anyone that Alfred requests everyone come to the Manor for dinner the eve before Valentine’s Day. A large feast of different foods. From Asian, Italian , Indian,etc. everyone is digging in and it’s all amazing and is homemade. Before dessert everyone in unison thanks Jason who blushes tells them it was all Alfred which they know is BS.

Tim Drake:

Tim is a man of few words but it’s not due to him not knowing what to say. He just lacks the ability to put it into terms of endearment.

He finds Kate lingering around the manor and outright tells her that she gives good advice. Kate thanks him but is taken a back because she never saw herself as such. And after a quick chat with Alfred she finds Tim and tells him she appreciates him telling her that and she understands he means in terms of her giving him advice about coming out.

He finds Dick in the gaming room and when he noticed him he asks him does he wanna play a few rounds of Smash Bros he joins in. And after a few moments Tim turns to Dick and tells him he understands why he replaces him with Damian. Dick immediately stops and begins to tell Tim he didn’t replace him,but Tim tells him that he gets he sees him as his equal, his brother. He did it so Damian can grow and not be stuck not experiencing a normal life. Dick hugs Tim and tells him he’d never hurt him but most of all he’s stuck with him for his life.

Damian Wayne:

Damian has always struggled to express himself. The only form he’s able to take to show his care is through art.

To say that when Barbara entered her apartment to find a handmade colored sketch of her first appearance as Batgirl was an understatement. She didn’t know that there was another drawing of her from her time as Oracle in her bedroom along with a small note stating that she was a hero weather she wore a cape and a symbol, or was overseeing several monitors at the same time. She has more than earned respect and her place as a member of the Batfamily. The next time she saw him she hugged him to death and everyone else was confused more so that Damian wasn’t fighting to be released.

He spends most of the afternoon training with Bruce. And usually Bruce is pushing everyone to their limits and then he makes them give him more. But this time it’s almost as if Damian is intentionally causing himself to fail in order to get Bruce to demonstrate. It’s only about the eighth time that it dawns on Bruce what he’s doing. “Honestly Father for being such a highly acclaimed detective you sure lack the ability to detect someone faking it.”

Tim is nearly hospitalized from a heartache when he finds a oil painted portrait of him as a young boy his parents Janet and Jack in his room. It’s not because Damian hasn’t made his brother art before, it’s because the photo which the painting was referenced from was lost the night Tim’s father was killed and he never found it once the house was abandoned. But Damian managed to not only find it and place on his bed but give him a large version of it too.

Stephanie Brown:

Steph is by far a great gift giver even if she can be a extra about it.

Bruce was a man that didn’t need really anything. He could buy the world and be satisfied by the time Breakfast was severed. For years Bruce struggled with his parents murder everyone knew that. But what most didn’t know was he had spent years trying to restore his Mother’s necklace,as a piece of her no matter how morbid. He found a box titled here you go, you psycho. -SB . And it was her mother’s necklace completely restored with every single Pearl in place.

Dick had been so busy that he neglected to clean his apartment before Kory came over for a date. He had spent most of the morning returning to Bludheaven stuck in traffic, then he ran errands to get flowers, find the cologne of his she liked him wearing on their dates and some small stuff. But he knew he needed to clean. Imagine his shock to a head to toe clean Apartment. He sat the stuff in the kitchen and got two texts from Stephanie.

Text Message:

Don’t mention, Ik I’m your fav sista 😝

P.S Grayson for the love of god do your laundry I should not have to walk around with your old boxers everywhere 🫤😵‍💫

Cassandra Cain:

Cass reminds me of a cat. I feel like she would just pop up and give her family gifts or advice.

Jason about to start preparing dinner for tonight. He opens the pantry to find Cass. He nearly returns to his grave in that moment. She hands him some low sodium salt.”Dad, not need normal salt.” And she take a bag of Doritos and leaves the kitchen.

Duke is about to take a shower and before he can pull back the curtain Cass is there with a big smile holding several bottles of hair products.

“These are natural. Good for you.” She hands them to him and walks away like he isn’t just shocked his big sister saw him in a Dragon Ball towel.

Alfred has no idea why his fine China has been removed and is on the dinning room table polished to perfection but decides not to question it and resume with his daily routine.

Duke Thomas:

Duke tries to do things that his siblings need not necessarily wants or expensive gifts more so practical.

He knows Damian wants him to get him the pet tiger from the Zoo that is going extinct. But rather than getting mauled or worse getting chewed out by Bruce he opts to get Damian new shoes. Damian finds the gift confusing because he can buy his own shoes but these shoes are specifically for training something Damian does at minimum twice a day. In the end he thanks Duke because now he isn’t sliding around as much.

Tim has been begging for weeks for this fancy expresso machine and no one wants to feed into his obsession of coffee especially,but they been toying with the idea since Tim doesn’t ask anyone for anything. And for Valentines Day Duke bites the bullet and get him something. Tim isn’t ungrateful about his gift from his brothers but he knows it’s not at all what he wished for. Instead Duke got him a pair of Bluetooth headphones with cushions ear muffs. At first Tim puts them in his backpack for class but between the Young Justice Teams long flights and the constant noise at the manor he can play his favorite songs while also canceling outside noises and attempting to relax.

Dick comes home to find two large gallons of detergent, a half gallon bottle of softener,two packs of stain remover sticks, and $100 dollar gift card to Wash Lands which is directly across the street from his apartment. He’s not surprised Steph told the others he’s just hopes Alfred isn’t aware of this.

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

Text

Princess (NSFW)

Summary: The thankless second-in-command, the notorious runner-up, and the presumed-heiress of the Underground-empire, has had a long day. And she needs something quick to get her mind from it - some booze, smoke, and you, ought to do.

Warnings: MDNI|NSFW. WLW, smut, flirting, teasing, established-relationship, implied sex-work, cunnilingus, slight hair-pulling, Sevika getting treated right

Sevika had given up her left-arm, and in response, Silco had been made his right-hand.

A far trade, though she took the role of secondary leadership begrudgingly, knowing damn good and well it didn't so much equate to a role commanding respect, as it did equate to a role more akin to a glorified grunt.

A higher-up goon, a henchwoman with an official job and a million more headaches. Gratefulness was a foreign concept in Zaun already, but the idea of thanking the Eye himself for propping her up to second-place, was simply asinine.

All she wanted was to do her job. Get Zaun's shit together. Keep the streets in line. Fuck with Topside for all their fuckary, and maybe have a good round of booze in-between before she bites-it.

Still, Sevika admits there are some perks in being the initially unwilling second-in-command of the Nation of Zaun. Her orders are following as unquestionably as if they kept from the devil's-mouth itself, so when she stationed herself in the back-most booth in the bar, with a drink, a smoke and a look that threatened pain-of-death if interrupted, the goons knew to leave her the fuck alone.

They also knew not to pay attention to the sweet-little thing that had crossed the room to join her, half-heartedly flicking the booth-curtain closed. They knew not to look, and you were good at your job with keeping quiet.

Most of the time.

Nursing something hard, dark and bitter as sin, the burn is almost as soothing as the salve that your hands make as they travel over the back of broad-shoulders, prodding at knots that have developed over the years, and would take just as long to knead out.

"Long day?"

"A long fucking day." Sevika confirm, and you hum, grinding a thumb down on a muscle that's as solid as steel.

That hand travels though, and soon passes over her shoulders entirely, down to her front, playing at the collar at her shirt. Your voice, always so sweet, has taken on a familiar tone that almost has a smile at her lips, "You want to me to make you a long night as well?"

It's tempting. And unlike Mr. Uptight upstairs, Sevika has fewer qualms with giving into temptations, evident that her reputation doesn't exactly rely on charisma, a scary-face and a fancy-title like The Industrialist.

Anyone who knows her, who needs to know her, just know her as Sevika. No need to sweat over a public image, when they already know all they need to, and know to be wary of her name alone.

Still. "Nah. Long day, don't need to double it."

It's not a dismissal. And you've been coming around long enough to know that it isnt, but just in case something gets lost in translation, Sevika lowers her drink the the table with a tap, reaches up to grab the hand playing near her collar, and guides it further down.

Down, down, until your fingers now brush against the buckle of her belt.

She only has to tilt her chin slightly to the side in order to breathe against your cheek, as a faint smirk accompanies the simple order, "Make it quick."

Words seem harsh, but you grin something stupid, almost eager in the way you slide from your seat at the booth - and slide down, down onto the floor between her spread legs. Eyes barely visible as you duck your head beneath the table, but even in the shadows, your grin is nearly blinding as your palms smooth up her inner-thighs, "Whatever you want, princess."

Grey-eyes roll to the ceiling, and her head nearly rolls along with it as she shoves a stick of tobacco in her mouth. She had grabbed the good-stuff, looking to treat herself... training the bomb-happy brat, diverting a supply-run, checking up on the docks and a handful of run-ins with wannabe gangs had made her day long-indeed, and a good reward seemed due. Sevika knew she was unlikely to find such thanks anywhere else, let alone at the Drop, let alone in the world of Zaun...

So, she was content to take her self-given reward in the form of a more high-end cigar between her lips, and a pretty girl tugging down at her clothes from between her legs.

You grow more teasing with your hands once the belt is undone, nimble fingers playing at buttons and the zipper as a lighter clicks on from above you. It's only at the first exasperated, potentially impatient huff of smoke that you dip your fingers on the hem of jeans, and start working the pants down in earnest.

More than eager to see you work for it yourself, Sevika gives half an effort of rising off her seat, letting you pull the jeans down to her ankles.

You stop then, eyes flicking up to her with an exaggerated bat of your lashes. Angelic, she assumes you try-for, but Sevika's lived in the modern-day embodiment of hell itself, and knows there's some sort of devil behind those doe-like eyes of yours. It shows in your innocent question, "Wet already? I'd say you were a bit needy."

"And I'd say you're wasting my damn time-"

Smoke sputters out with her words that are choked off, suddenly, and the metal-armed woman bites down hard on the cigar to keep it from falling out as you drag your tongue slowly, firmly over her slit. Eyes remaining fixed on her expression as you settle closer, hands needing at inner thighs as you do it again with bright, daringly-smug eyes.

Sevika decides not to give you such a reaction again. Instead, she gives you her metal-hand - fingers reinforced with smoothed and tempered-copper, but she knows damn-well the joints still pinch a little as they curl into the back of your head.

Your eyes flutter though, almost pleased at the faint sting from the tug on your hair. "Kinky bitch, aren't you?" Sevika says lowly, grey-eyes hooded as you trace her outer-mound with her tongue, thumbs rubbing circles at the junction between her thighs.

A tug on your hair, before you raise your eyes to her attention. Sevika raises a brow at the unfiltered lust she finds there, and decides to ignore the glimmer of mirth there as well. If addressed, she imagines she'll have to brush aside your taunts in regards to the darkening of her cheeks and ears, and she'd rather not have her blushing-status be pointed out.

"Go on, then," She retorts around the cigar, reaching with her flesh-hand to blow out a ring, in time with a sharper-tug on your hair with her metal-one. "Wasting time."

You strive not to waste anymore.

Rewarded with a short, low hum as you press closer, tongue parting between folds in order to lap at the wetness to beckon forth more, it's more out of reflex then spite that has copper-fingers curling tighter on your hair. And it all only strives to encourage you, nestling your mouth ever closer to tease at her sex with your tongue.

Trailing up, down, Sevika is quick to pluck the cigar from her mouth before she bites the damn thing in half, as your tongue flicks upward to catch on her clit. Teeth grind on teeth, and faux-nails dig into your scalp as you lavish at her centre, lips closing around that bundle of nerves to suckle with abandon.

Sevika feels, rather than sees the grin you make against her when she lets out the smallest of curses between gritted teeth.

Your hands are almost assuring as they smooth against her thighs, not attempting to sooth away the slight shake they give under the unrelenting attentions of your mouth and tongue, but moreso as encouragement to give in. Obviously, you should be able to tell that she's well on her way to, as your tongue explores between her dripping entrance and pulsing clit.

But you seem eager to reach the destination, and Gods, if she isn't just as eager. Pressing impossibly close to lap against her hole, one hand travels further up and Sevika, proud of her self-control, immediately loses any semblance of it with a rocking of her hips as your thumb presses and grinds tight, rapid circles around her clit.

Still, she has enough not to growl out your name like she might want to. Or make any other embarrassing small whines or groans at your ministrations, because Hell knows your pride doesn't need a boost, and hers doesn't need that sting.

But what she does need, and chases without restraint and with quickening-rolls of her hips, is to cum, and you seem all too eager to oblige as you grip said hips. Not to still or even slow, but as leverage as you rock your face in-time between her openly-shaking legs.

Head falling back with a faint thump against the wall behind her, Sevika has enough presence of mind to swallow back a loud moan, instead letting out a long, loud exhale from her nostrils as you are far more open. Groaning against her cunt as her juices coat your tongue, and you're eager to lap up every drop, that sound turns almost whiny as her fingers dig tighter into your hair at her orgasm.

When the world comes flooding back into her awareness, and she has enough presence of mind to crack open her eyes again as she pants raggedly, Sevika muses herself at the idea that you might just get-off on having your hair-tugged alone.

Pitying the fact that there's not enough time to find out, she grinds out her cigar into the empty glass, before reaching down to tap at your cheek with the back of her fingers when the sensations start to feel sharp, senses overwhelming and causing a second-round for sweat t build on her brow.

You've got enough cheek to glance up at her, and pout, but another tug on your hair has your eyes fluttering, and mouth unlatching from her cunt with a wet, ragged breath that leaves her twitching before your departure.

That mirthful glint in your eyes is back, and despite her panting, the metal-armed woman scowls breathlessly at you. You did that on purpose, and once pulling out a handkerchief to clean off any remnants from between her thighs, she knows you damn too-well to know taking your sweet time on her sensitivities is also on-purpose.

"I said m-make it quick-"

Another low hum as you dart forward, barely ghosting your tongue over her slit for a last taste, pulling back with a smug grin at your lips, and a pointed swallow.

"I am quick... see?" You purr as you guide her pants back up once she is cleaned, and Sevika uses her metal-hand to prop herself back up to tug it the rest of the way. "Quick as a bunny."

"Then hop along," She grunts, but you pay her no mind as you take your time, carefully buttoning up her jeans, re-doing a belt buckle, and even smoothing over her thighs, this time to relax any creases made.

They travel up as you do, palms smoothly traveling up her hips, waist, and chest as you emerge up from under the table. They squeeze once at her covered-breasts, and even under the thick reinforcements of leather and thick-fabric, Sevika feels herself stiffen at your touch there. "You don't mean that," You chide, attempting to pout, failing with a smirk. "I daresay you like me."

"And I daresay you've got other clients to go fuck with," It comes out more like a tease, then gruff, but any borderline-fondness melts away with her gruff sigh, "Got night-patrol, anyway. Shit like that means I got another half before I'm back on the streets, if that."

She's thinking about hitting the bar once more before then - maybe even a quick-round to cheat some chumps out of their coin, when your breath passes her cheek, and ghosts against her ear as you kiss almost chastely at the skin behind her ear.

There isn't a damn thing chaste about your words, "Gotta find time one of these days, sweetheart," Your murmur against her skin, and there's a smirk there, like you've absolutely clocked the flush on her skin. "Bring you by my place, and fuck you day 'n night, till you can't even remember what work used to be."

Gods.

It's tempting.

"Maybe another time," Sevika says, this time, a true dismissal. Not one she gives happily, but a necessary one. A small, thoughtful hum, but you accept it obediently, leaving behind one sweet little kiss to her skin, and a string of low, rolling parting-words that, no matter how focused and good at her job she may be, Sevika knows damn well she'll be hearing your voice throughout the rest of her work for this night, and the rest to follow.

Maybe, that's exactly what your goal is.

"As you command, princess."

#sevika x reader #arcane sevika #sevika #mdni #arcane #writing #sinday #sevika x you #reader insert #wlw #arcane fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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codes-and-stuffs · 6 months

Text

Mcyt Yuri Week - Day 5: Rarepair

(link to ao3 version here, for @mcyt-yuri-week !!!

the next two days' fics will be connected much more directly than all the ones thus far.. this is the last piece before the grand finale !!!!!)

<Loading...>

PROMOTION TO FULL AGENT

DATE: 10-10-23

AGENT E,

WE ARE WRITING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR PROBATION PERIOD HAS ENDED AND YOU ARE NOW A FULL AGENT. THE DOCUMENTATION YOU HAVE PROVIDED HAS BEEN PROCESSED AND YOUR BADGE IS AVAILABLE AT THE OFFICE YOU PROVIDED THIS TO.

SHOULD YOU WISH TO CONTINUE ANY FURTHER TRAINING DURING YOUR TIME AS A FULL AGENT, PLEASE CONTACT YOUR DIRECT SUPERIOR. FOR YOU THIS WILL BE AGENT Z.

WE WISH YOU LUCK IN YOUR NEW ROLE.

LETTER RELEASED BY THE OFFICE OF:

AGENT B

(fic under the cut :D)

Eloise rolled over at the sound of her alarm, tiredly slapping a hand around her phone until she managed to dismiss the alarm. The new silence felt less peaceful than before, now shattered by the disturbance the alarm had caused, and she let out a disappointed huff.

“Work day?” Water hummed from beside her, one arm still loosely wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah.” Eloise took a moment to absorb the warmth of her bed, before finally giving in to the fact she’d have to actually get up now. “Alright, here we go, I guess.”

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, yawning almost immediately after and suddenly regretting the late night. Next to her, Water giggled at her antics.

“I thought it was the big day today,” she said. “You’re not excited to finish your last mission?”

“I am, I am, I just -” Eloise stopped for a moment to grumble at her alarm as it started ringing again. “Jeez, does this thing ever shut up?” She squinted at it and turned it off again, hopefully this time so that it wouldn’t just be snoozed. “Yeah. I guess it’s exciting. It’s just - ugh, I wish I got a lie-in as a reward or something.”

“Get up, silly,” Water laughed.

After one last, long, reluctant stretch, Eloise leant down to give the other a kiss and then finally pushed back her blanket to get out of bed. As she picked through her drawers for something suitable to wear and then stumbled her way through brushing her teeth and hair, Water dozed off again, which Eloise found herself envying very much, thank you.

When she was fully changed, she headed into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast and was surprised when Water ducked out next to her.

“What, a girl can’t make a little coffee?” Water said in lieu of an explanation.

She picked out two mugs from the drying rack and set them out on the counter, taking out the actual ground coffee beans and the fancy French press they’d been given for their anniversary rather than just the instant coffee stuff Eloise would use on work mornings. Eloise watched as she methodically poured the coffee and water into the French press, measuring them carefully by eye and then turning to get some milk as it started to soak.

That was the moment she realised she’d been so busy watching Water she’d forgotten to actually make her own breakfast. She grabbed two eggs and a bowl and got to work, grinning when she heard the radio turn on from on top of the microwave.

Once she had a mostly-well-shaped omelette on the pan, sizzling away in the grey light of the morning, she felt two arms wrap around her from behind.

“I really miss you when you’re off on your missions,” Water murmured, and Eloise could feel her sleepily tuck her head into her neck. “Do they really need you to have a fake house and everything?”

“Well, the other option is you having to move house every other week with me.”

“I could do that! It could be fun!”

Eloise shook her head but laughed all the same. “Cleo definitely wouldn’t let me actually bring you with me.”

“That’s not fair,” Water grumbled. Eloise flipped her omelette over idly, relieved to see the other side hadn’t burnt. “She gets to stay with her girlfriend.”

“I’m ninety percent sure that’s just because Gem also works with her, and I’m also fairly sure they’re not dating.” At least, Eloise thought they weren’t. It was really hard to tell what was going on at that office - she was usually on the field, anyway. “Besides, you get to get a break from me now and then!”

“Hmph.”

Water let go of her waist so that she could go and pour out the coffee, but she looked thoughtful as she moved around the room, putting the finished mugs of coffee on the table as she passed. When she got back to Eloise, she put her hands on her hips with an air of defiance.

“Now that you’re getting promoted, you’d better demand a few less missions,” she said firmly.

“I’m seeing a future of paperwork ahead of me,” Eloise replied with a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, there’s a lot less moving about for me now that the probation stuff is over.”

“Good.” Water stepped forward to steal a quick kiss before turning back to set the table. “Now, are those omelettes ready?”

“Yep!”

Eloise distributed the omelettes between them and went to clean up the dishes in the sink.

“Don’t bother!” Water called from where she was already sitting at the table. “I can clean up later, let’s at least enjoy breakfast.”

Well, she was hardly going to complain about having a little less work to do. She sat down and started eating, almost forgetting about work and they slowly became immersed in light conversation about something Water had heard about the new couple that had moved in a floor above them.

Eventually, topics moved back to Eloise’s work.

“So, is Cleo going to miss getting to boss you around a bit?” Water asked, a small smile on her face. She’d already met Cleo once or twice, and the pair had gotten on swimmingly. They’d even gotten to the point of exchanging stories about Eloise, which the latter had found especially alarming.

“I guess,” she said. “Then again, I think I’ll still be working in the same department anyway, so she’ll probably end up teaching me a few more things there by chance.”

Water nodded a little to herself. “That’ll be nice. Familiar, right?”

The thing was, Water had always worked at the local theatre as one of the main musicians, playing the lute and singing a few ditties during plays. She was pretty popular for Shakespeare plays, and never really worked outside of the four walls of the theatre. So whenever Eloise would try and fail to skirt around exactly what she had to do as part of her job, Water would also try and fail to understand what actually happened in an office. It ended up in a feedback loop that Eloise found pretty amusing, all things considered.

After a while, she glanced at her watch and yelped.

“I need to go!” she said, and Water chortled at her panicked expression.

“You’ve got time.”

Eloise stuffed the rest of her omelette into her mouth and said with a very muffled voice, “I want to be early for my first day!”

“It’s not your first day, and -” Water stopped, tsked, and reached out to wipe a little toothpaste from the corner of the mouth. “You will be perfectly fine. You already know everyone there, right?”

“I guess.”

“And they know you, and they know that you work hard. So no matter what - even if you’re a little late sometimes - they’re not going to get too mad. Got it?”

It was beginning to become clear why exactly all the performances at Water’s workplace ended up running so late, but Eloise took the reassurance anyway.

“Got it,” she said, and drank her coffee at a moderately less rushed rate. “See you later. Love you!”

“Love you too,” said Water.

Grabbing her last few things, Eloise headed to the door and turned one last time to give Water a tight goodbye hug. The latter made a little ‘oomph’ sound that endeared Eloise very much, before they finally parted ways for the day.

Today, Eloise had a very simple task.

All she had to do was hand in her paperwork - fully signed and approved by almost everyone - and then pack up her current workspace. It wouldn’t take too long, she figured, and hopefully she could finish early and surprise Water by getting back only a little after lunchtime.

The first thing she did was grab a coffee from the machine next to Cleo’s desk. For the most part, the machine would work well enough, though there were some days that it just seemed to spit out plain water and gurgle awfully until Eloise whacked it a few times on the side.

Which isn’t something she’d usually do to a machine, for the record. It was only because Cleo had told her to!

Today, however, the coffee machine behaved just fine, and Eloise was waiting for it to finish when she caught sight of the odd piece of paper lying in the small space between Gem and Cleo’s desks. Or she thought that was Gem’s desk, at least. She was always sitting there when Eloise was around, so surely it had to be, right?

The point being, there was an odd piece of paper on her desk, lying right in front of someone who was very willing to test her skills in finding hidden codes and the like in light of her upcoming promotion.

After checking that she was alone, Eloise picked up the paper and squinted at its perfect blankness. Both sides seemed perfectly pristine, but there was a slightly odd smell to it that tipped her off to exactly what might be hiding here.

Coffee abandoned in the machine, she raced out of the room and straight towards the labs.

The labs were an odd sort of outer wing in the agency, sticking out of the main building like a head peeking out of a rectangular tortoise shell. When Eloise arrived, they were almost entirely empty, plain and white and sterilised as always. She slowed down a bit as she reached them, unsure of what exactly might be on the floor and not wanting to risk slipping. Knowing her luck, she very well could.

Once she found a lab that had been left open, she burst inside and tried to recall all her chemistry-related training. There had to be a Bunsen burner somewhere around here - aha! Setting up the burner and grabbing a box of matches, Eloise steeled herself for what could either be an exciting revelation or a huge disappointment.

The flame was lit. The paper was set on the gauze. She leant down to peer closely at the blank sheet, heart thumping in exhilaration, and waited.

And after a long, tense moment, a faint script began to make itself visible on the paper. She transcribed it as quickly as possible, picking up some nearby pen and paper without regard for the neatly plotted graph she’d just disturbed. There was some very exciting code-cracking going on here.

The writing was definitely encrypted, judging purely by the odd placement of consonants. Eloise vanished from the labs for a second to grab one of the deciphering devices she’d been given by Cleo when she’d first arrived, before typing the words into the screen and waiting for the plaintext to generate. It appeared after mere seconds - apparently it hadn’t been anything too complicated. It was a cipher that was certainly intended to be decrypted without knowing the key.

There was a little bit of an issue, though.

This was not in a language she could understand. It looked a little like Spanish, but she’d taken French as part of her training, so that was a bit useless.

After considering for a moment, she remembered the existence of online translators and pulled out her phone. She copied out the text from the decryption device to her screen and then read through the approximate translation the website she was using spit out.

“‘Sister,

“‘Let it be known first that I have no wish to engage in your spy games. I’m uninterested in meddling with authorities, as long as they are uninterested in meddling with my business. It seems, however, that I am now a point of interest to your agency. If you choose to release me, I can tip you off to whatever information you may require.

“‘Consider this offer, at least for me. And if you have time, release my cellmate too. We have unfinished business I’d like to attend to outside of this agency’s prison.’

“Well, that’s not ominous,” Eloise said, finishing the translated and decrypted letter and picking it back up off the gauze. As she did, the writing began to fade and the paper turned blank once again.

Wait. If the writing could disappear again…

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered to herself. “Did the plan work? Is that how that breakout from the holding cells happened?”

Which begged the question: who was the prisoner’s sister? Had she really let them go? And did that mean there was a traitor amongst their midst?

Stunned by this new information and with nowhere else to turn but the person here she trusted most, she turned off the Bunsen burner, tucked the paper back into her pocket, and left to try and find Cleo.

There was something of an issue in terms of exactly how much of this Eloise had actually been permitted to investigate - that is, none of it. The moment she began her narrative to Cleo, the other sighed deeply and glanced automatically to the coffee machine, where Eloise’s abandoned coffee still sat.

Even without the second coffee of the day, though, she was bursting with excited energy, and rushed her way through her entire story, finally finishing by showing her almost-ex-mentor the translation on her phone.

“So? What do you think it means?” she asked.

Cleo read the message, and then closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s too early for this.”

“This could be really urgent! What if there’s a double agent here?!”

“There’s no double agent,” Cleo said calmly. “Alright, this is on me for leaving confidential documents laying around. This is something we’ve sorted out with the person the letter was written to, and we decided we could let their sister out without consequence in return for the information. It was pretty important intel.”

��Oh. So it’s all okay?” Was all of that cipher-cracking for nothing after all?

“It’s all okay. But good work!” Cleo added, giving Eloise a proud little pat on the head, to the latter’s mixed elation and embarrassment. “You did well. Now, have you handed in your paperwork?”

Eloise gasped, the one actual task she had today suddenly returning to her. “Oh, shit!”

Finally, after clearing up her things and storing them in a spare closet in preparation for getting her new assigned desk, Eloise picked up her finished documents and headed off-site to the office she was meant to hand them in to. She arrived just before her usual lunch slot, and knocked on the door to the head office - labelled ‘Bagi’ - just as people began to leave the building to go out for their lunches.

The door opened to reveal a woman with hair split into dark brown and white, spilling around her shoulders from under a crocheted beanie. Despite the crisp suit she was wearing, she seemed immediately friendly, small smile lines in the corner of her eyes crinkling as the door opened fully.

“Hi,” Eloise said, recovering from her brief stunned observations. “I’m here to hand in my forms, for the end of my probation period?”

“Right! You’re Eloise?”

“That’s right,” she said, relieved that things seemed to be going smoothly.

“Great, come on in while I get your things signed,” Bagi said, waiting for Eloise to enter before closing the door behind her.

Her office was mostly covered in various ongoing cases, with desks covered in paper and interspersed with various plants. On one of the walls was a Brazilian flag, and it was at that exact moment that things clicked in place.

“You’re the sister!” Eloise blurted out, and then slapped a hand on her mouth.

Bagi froze, before turning slowly. “What about a sister?”

“Sorry, I’m just -” She cut herself off. “Do you have a sister who just escaped from prison?”

“Why do you ask?” Bagi asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, I found this note,” Eloise began, pulling the folded up note from her pocket, “and when I figured out what it meant, it turned out one of the prisoners in our holding cells may have been trying to ask for uh - for a release?”

“What exactly are you accusing me of?”

“Oh! Nothing, sorry, I mean -” Eloise tried, before shaking her head rapidly. This was not going well. She hurriedly continued, “I mean, apparently it was cleared up anyway so if it is you then I’m not saying you did anything, I just had a moment of realisation because it was written in Portuguese and I think - I mean, Brazilians speak Portuguese, right? But it’s nothing bad! It’s just - I was just connecting the dots.”

After a moment of tense silence, Bagi sighed. “Yes, that’s me. I didn’t really want any rumours to spread about me.”

“Oh, no no, it’s just me being nosy.” Which wasn’t that much of an assurance, Eloise realised, but this entire conversation had already been a total mess.

“It’s fine,” Bagi said. “It’s not a secret, just something I don’t want people to mention much. Moving on - do you need that form signed?”

She indicated the documents Eloise was still clutching, and the latter quickly handed them over. For a few minutes, they stood in somewhat awkward silence as Bagi flicked through the documents to check everything was there and then signed something at the very end.

Eloise took the opportunity to glance at the case on the closest wall, tracking the movements of a masked thief across the country. She wasn’t even aware that the operations of the agency extended that far.

“Alright,” Bagi said, interrupting her thoughts. “All done. Anything else?”

“Nothing really!” Eloise paused. “Well, one thing. Uh - good luck, with your sister?”

Bagi smiled a little. “Trust me, it’s not luck I need with that one. But thank you.”

Now that everyone was done, Eloise could only think of how hungry she was and how much she wanted to get home to Water. She followed Bagi as she led the way to the door and opened it.

“Headed home now?” Bagi asked as Eloise tightened her coat around herself and stepped outside.

“Yep! I want to surprise my wife.”

“That’s sweet,” said Bagi. She smiled a little fondly to herself. “I might go say hi to someone myself this lunch. It’d be nice to surprise her with something other than a bullet wound.”

Eloise wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was that what the future looked like for her and Water? She hoped not. Maybe she’d follow Water’s advice and ask for less field work after all.

With a final goodbye to Bagi, she headed off down the street, intent on catching the next train home.

“El?!” Water exclaimed, and Eloise engulfed her in a hug.

“Surprise!” she yelled.

From in her arms, Water giggled and squeezed back. “You could have warned me you were coming, at least. I would’ve made lunch for you too.”

“Don’t worry, I picked up some pizzas on the way back,” Eloise grinned. “I figured today’s worth celebrating!”

“Because of your promotion?”

“Because I’m home early!”

Water chuckled.. Then her smile softened, and she pulled the other down slightly to guide her into a slow, sweet kiss. When they separated, both were just a little pink.

“Pizzas it is, then,” Water said affectionately. “Come on in, it’s chilly out.”

Eloise kicked her shoes off the moment she was inside, and instantly felt more at home. The radio was still playing from the kitchen, though the song was a lot less energetic now that the morning rush hours were over. She was home. She was breathless, for a second, at just how much she loved this little place.

Dropping her bag and pizza off just inside the entrance, she swept Water into an impromptu dance across the living room, suddenly filled with overwhelming excitement. The other half-yelped in surprise but went with it, following her steps as best she could while also trying to figure out what was going on.

“Isn’t it great?!” Eloise said. “I can’t believe this is my life!”

“What happened at work?”

Eloise spun Water around and caught her after a spin or two. “There was some coded message, and it was just gossip. It was literally just gossip. It’s ridiculous! I love my job.”

“You’re so silly,” Water teased, before escaping the dance just long enough to grab the pizzas and take them into the kitchen. “Go put a movie on or something, I’ll heat these up and get some drinks.”

“Anything for you, beloved!”

“Just get it done,” Water laughed.

Still humming along to the radio, Eloise picked out a worn DVD - Singing in the Rain was a classic, okay? - and started setting it up. She had it all ready and just starting by the time Water was back with the pizza boxes and a few cans of beer, and collapsed back into the sofa and stretched out her arms to receive the other.

There was something just lovely about curling up with the person she held dear more than anyone else in the world and knowing they had all day and all night and all of their lives with each other. It was just them, and this warm room, and the singing of an old film, and a few pizza boxes lying open in front of them. No amount of missions could take this simple joy from her.

With a yawn, Eloise leant her head on Water’s shoulder and let sleep sweep her away, like a shell slowly drifting out with the tide.

#mcytyuriweek2023 #piratesshipping #codes does writing #soupbroth #<- as coined by the official yuriweek blog!#soupmuch #<- as coined by me but i forgot kdhkwvw

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livinginshambles · 9 months

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Preview: How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just a bet trope - you're not sure what hurt more, being a bet, or how little they bet on you.

Masterlist

_____________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic, my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please, I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him.

The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red, and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her, and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him, and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look, but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It's just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

Full fic

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marypsue · 11 months

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So, yesterday I did say that I might post an origfic sample if I got no questions...but I never said that I wouldn't post a sample if I did get questions. Want almost 2100 words of navel-gazey rambling about how a returned King Arthur might be manufactured into a comic-book-style superhero (and how he might feel about all of that), from the perspective of a British government employee, written by a Canadian who's never been there? Yeah you do, here goes.

...

When Agent Jane Carmichael had joined MI5, this was not what she’d expected to be doing.

Of course, it was the domestic Security Service, but still, she’d expected espionage. Intrigue. Complicated geopolitical…something. She’d dared to hold out hope for a slinky red dress and a thigh holster. She’d even anticipated all the paperwork. Well, most of the paperwork. Some of the paperwork, certainly.

She had not expected to find herself sat beside the legendary Arthur, King of the Britons, awakened from centuries of ensorcelled slumber to come to the world’s aid in its hour of greatest need, stuffed into a cramped Mini Cooper with the fabled sword Excalibur in its jewelled and enchanted sheath poking her in the kidneys through the seat as she inched through the solid wall of traffic that was Piccadilly in the morning rush.

Still, Agent Jane Carmichael was nothing if not a professional. She’d taken stranger things in stride, though admittedly not many of them. And there was always a small chance that this would be the mission where she’d require the red dress.

It would help if she had any idea how to make small talk with a mediaeval warlord, though.

“Do you expect to find it’s really Morgan that the Motherboard’s captured?” Jane asked, as she signalled to merge despite the furious honking that rose all around her. Like a whole flock of ducks disturbed from the placid surface of a pond on some rolling estate. Jane let her thoughts turn briefly, wistfully, to the DVD of Emma waiting for her at home for all of about six seconds before taking both a deep breath and the barest sliver of an opportunity to merge. The honking grew in both volume and anger, but they’d made the inside lane.

Jane realised, mid-quiet triumph, that Arthur had been a little too silent for a little too long.

As though he’d read her mind, though, he chose the very moment of realisation to speak. “Who can say? Morgan’s mind weaves patterns that no man may see until they are fully worked.”

Jane took advantage of the fact that traffic had ground to a fuming standstill as they came up on Piccadilly Circus to steal a glance at the man sat beside her. In some ways, Arthur looked nothing like she would’ve expected an ancient legend come to life to look, while in others, she couldn’t believe she’d ever imagined him any other way. The trim the department stylist had given his dark, wavy locks and ruddy beard managed to look both modern and timeless, accentuating the narrow nose, high cheekbones, and proud jaw that Brand had gleefully pronounced looked like they belonged to ‘the lovechild of Chris Evans and Richard Armitage’. It was a regal face, almost haughty, but the brown eyes set under the deep brow were warm and kind, if a little sad.

He was, however, shorter than Jane had expected.

Stockier, too, though Jane had to admit she’d been watching rather a lot of trashy superhero films in preparation for the role she’d found herself thrown into. It wasn’t as though anyone had had a better handbook to offer her. Her immediate superior had used the word ‘unprecedented’ no fewer than seventeen times while briefing Jane, before she’d even been allowed to meet Arthur, before all hell had broken loose.

At any rate. No one had abs like the film superheroes in real life. Not even the closest thing the real world had to an actual, genuine, bona fide superhero. And Arthur did come pretty damn close to being an actual, genuine, bona fide superhero, pardon Jane’s French.

The Motherboard, on the other hand…well, Jane was simply not going to go there. She had extremely mixed feelings about calling what was almost certainly a millionaire CEO’s vanity project a ‘superhero’. She could think of a few things Elin Brand might have done toward saving the world that would have been more useful than building a fancier gun –

Arthur shifted in his seat, and Jane managed not to start. She’d – not forgotten he was there, but let herself be distracted. She should be better than that.

“Seldom have I known Morgan’s mind,” Arthur said, slowly. Jane turned to look at him, but he didn’t meet her eye, looking instead out the window at the mess of traffic as though he were watching a David Attenborough special on the migratory habits of the domestic English office-worker. “They tell me that she spirited me to Avalon, after I was dealt my death-blow. To heal me. To keep me, until the world had need of me again.”

Given that he was there, now, magic scabbard and all, Jane was inclined to believe whoever ‘they’ were. “So it would seem,” she said, laying on the horn when a lorry with a load of chickens under a tarpaulin tried to merge into standstill traffic ahead of her. Jane wondered if they were lost.

Arthur still didn’t look at her. “Do they know that it was only through Morgan’s treachery that such a wound could strike me at all? Do they know that my own sister had turned against me, in those late days, she who had been dear to me as mine own eyes? Do they know that Morgan had as her sole ambition, for I know not truly how long, to bring Camelot and even Britain itself to ruin if it meant it might bring me to my knees?”

“We have a number of myths and novels about it,” Jane offered.

“Do any of them tell why she might do such things?” Arthur demanded, turning to Jane at last, his dark eyes flashing fire, and for a moment Jane realised she could see the family resemblance.

“Not really, no,” she admitted, and Arthur sank back in his seat, as though she’d stuck him with a pin and all his air was leaking out.

“Nothing is simple,” he said, heavily, and Jane felt a twinge of sympathy jab at her heart.

“It must all have been very confusing to wake to -”

Arthur pinned her with a stare, and then flashed a wry smile. “It was none the better for which to fall to slumber.”

When Jane didn’t say anything, not wanting to betray her lack of understanding, Arthur ran a hand through his hair, turning a wistful smile on the glove box. Jane allowed herself to be momentarily distracted by – and envious of – the way those dark waves fell perfectly back to frame his face. Did the man have any bad angles?

“Camelot was…a dream of mine,” Arthur said, and it sounded almost like an elegy. “And like all dreams, it did not survive the waking world intact.”

Jane thought, briefly, of the halls of Parliament, of her badge tucked inside her black suit jacket. “I understand.”

“Do you really,” Arthur said, turning back to look out the window at the city. It didn’t sound like a genuine question.

“I believe I do.” The car in front of Jane pulled forward, but she waited, letting the lorry full of chickens creep in ahead of her. “You set out to do something good, and it all gets…complicated.”

“If by ‘complicated’, you mean it ends knee-deep in blood and shit, your friends lost or turned foe, your own queen a traitor, everything you built in a heap at your feet,” Arthur said, absently. “The men you united tired of peace and slavering for a taste of blood – and not any blood, but your own. All turning upon one another like the wyrms at the root of the tower, bringing down anything and everything built upon them. If that is what you mean by ‘complicated’…”

Jane nodded, once. “Politics.”

Arthur sighed, with a weary but good-humoured half-smile. “Politics.”

He drew a deep breath before turning to face Jane. “If – when we find Morgan. Should she wish – should she have had another change of heart. Should there yet be some chance -”

“You think she might still come back from this,” Jane said, unable to totally keep the note of disbelief out of her voice. “Need I remind you that she did try to kill you. And me. And the Queen, and the rest of London -”

“I know she will not – ‘come back from this’, should she be tried and condemned at once. Should she have not the blessing of your monarch.” Arthur’s stare was a little too knowing. “Should there not be watchful eyes kept upon her, that she may not play some trick or lay some snare without our foreknowledge. And, of course, should she not prove of some use to your…MI5.”

Jane turned, at last, to look Arthur straight in the eye, giving him her full attention. He looked back, steady, his gaze unwavering. Not pleading. Not even challenging. Not exactly. But hopeful. Though that hope seemed tempered.

Some journo hack, early on, had looked at Arthur’s medieval chivalry and early ignorance of modern technology and come to the conclusion that Arthur was…naïve. As perfect and simple and innocent as those of his legends that were suitable for children. The newsmedia had run with that interpretation, subtly encouraged by the Security Service. After all, it so complemented the untarnished, apolitical image they wished to put forward. The legendary king, symbol of so many ideals, could be easily presumed to be a blind idealist himself.

But only, Jane thought, mentally adjusting her assessment, if you didn’t know him.

She met those eyes, dark and sad and wise, and said, “She’s the only one left. That’s it, isn’t it.”

Arthur broke her gaze, turning his face away.

Jane turned her attention back to the road, inching the Mini forward. “You should know,” she said, feeling a curious distance from the words, “MI5 is looking into tracing Merlin, as well. I don’t know that they have any concrete leads, or anything really other than a fancy, but the consensus seems to be that, if you and Morgan could both survive for centuries in what seems to be some sort of alternate dimension, another magic-user might have done the same.”

That wrung, surprisingly, the dregs of a smile out of Arthur. “So they accept, now, that it is magic that Morgan works?”

The government scientists were still calling it by a parade of pseudo-quantum physics jargon, which Jane, who had seen Morgan in action up close and personal, couldn’t take seriously at all. If one could not adjust one’s worldview to include the unbelievable when presented with direct physical evidence of it, how could one call oneself any kind of scientist?

Jane admitted, “They seem to have proceeded on from trying to disprove it to trying to understand it.”

Arthur said it for her. “To be able to counter it. Or replicate it.”

Jane regarded him for a moment. MI5 had been glad to push the ‘superhero’ angle onto Arthur, render him politically toothless. The legendary king, symbol of so many ideals, was less inconvenient, easier to control, as a symbol. Less complicated than actually dealing with the intricacies of having two living monarchs, neither of whom had surrendered the crown. But it was difficult to forget, speaking to him, that Arthur had very much been a politician. The politician.

“Yes,” Jane said. “They think it would be…prudent, to have such a power at our disposal, so long as our enemies also do. No doubt they’d leap at the opportunity to study Morgan and her abilities.” She bit the inside of her cheek, tightening her grip on the wheel for a moment before relaxing it again. “It might even be possible to persuade those who make such decisions that Morgan, if willing, would make a valuable operative.”

Arthur made no reply to that.

“If willing,” he said, ruefully, after what felt like an ice age had come and gone.

“If willing,” Jane agreed.

“You must think me an addled, sentimental old fool.”

“I think,” Jane said, shortly, putting her blinker on to take a right, “that she’s your sister."

"Half-sister."

"Fine. Half-sister. And that the both of you are rather strangers in a strange land.”

“A land that should be home,” Arthur said, and the bitter sorrow in it surprised even Jane. Arthur caught her eye with a sidelong look, a flicker of dark anger crossing his face before he shook his head and gathered his composure. “I beg your pardon. This world has been nothing but welcoming to me.”

Jane opened her mouth, unsure of what she was going to say.

As it turned out, though, she never got the chance to find out.

#le morte d'artificial intelligence #mary writes #my sincerest apologies to anyone actually from england about the...everything. i tried

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