Marylily microfics - short (and hopefully sweet) - prompts - profile art by @cutegirlsart on instagram - ran by @marylily-my-beloved and @icarus-last-fall - fuck jkr !
November prompts <3 the theme is winter in general but we sneaked in one Christmas prompt! Enjoy and don’t forget to tag us <3
FAQ and prompts written out under the cut ! <3
RULES/FAQ:
please tag the fics appropriately, because there are things people aren't comfortable with and we want to make sure it's tagged properly, don't forget to ADD TWs
We allow NSFW only written by people 18+
While we don't have a limit on the amount of words for these microfics, they are supposed to be short, so preferably 1.5k or under.
If we do start getting more popular we will crosspost these fics on ao3, so if you're not ok with that just say so explicitly. If you have an ao3 we will link it there, as well as your tumblr.
You can write whatever you want about marylily
Please tag us so we can see what you write and we can reblog it ♡
our tag we're going to use is marylilymicrofic so don't forget to use that ♡
Hey guys <33 I know its been a while since this account has been useddd but I might start making monthly prompts again by December sooo please check them out and write !!! <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
a bunch of sixth years play one too many drinking games and things get gay! underage drinking and lesbians, what could possibly go wrong?
(tagging some ppl below the cut)
hope this isn’t annoying to post twice, but thank u all sm <33 @marylily-my-beloved @imheredisappointingmyparents @ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs @seekmemystar @obsessedwith15deadwizards @ephemeralstarss @osyhnixt
@marylilymicrofic (1655 words) spin the bottle...
I Want a Kiss Like My Heart is Hitting the Ground
Crickets sung their songs outside the castle windows, spring air just barely melting the snow from the rooftops. But the lake was still frozen and the wind would still bite at the tips of your ears if you went outside without a hat. So of course the best thing for a group of sixteen year olds to be doing on a saturday night was to huddle together in the girls’ dorm room passing around a bottle of liquid warmth.
James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter snuck in through the window, alcohol stuffed in Sirius’ coat. Marlene strong-armed each boy over the ledge and into the warm room.
“Took you lot long enough!” Lily closed the window behind them, shutting out the chill.
”Had to dodge Mrs. Noris. It’s like she can smell booze from a mile away.” Siris grinned, taking the bottle from inside his coat and relishing the awestruck looks it earned from the three girls.
Remus mumbled, “More like she could smell someone’s fish breath.”
“I do not have fish breath!” Sirius exclaimed, throwing his hands up defensively.
James used the opportunity to snag the bottle from his hands, “Come now, boys, we have more important matters to attend to.”
Mary got up from her bed, joining the group, “Hear, hear!”
James popped the bottle open, “Who’s first?”
Marlene stepped up, but Lily beat her to it, looking up at James sweetly. Mary could have thrown up. James folded instantly, watching like a puppy dog as she threw back a little more than a shot of straight liquor.
Mary’s eyes widened. Lily swallowed sharply and shoved the bottle back at James as she started coughing immediately. Before she knew it, Mary’s hand was patting Lily’s back.
“Woah there, Evans. Save some for the rest of us, yeah?” Sirius took the bottle and brought it to his own lips. He didn’t take nearly as much as Lily, but he had to try twice as hard to suppress his cough before he, too, was hacking up a lung.
Remus took the bottle, then, and took a long pull. He passed the bottle to Marlene without so much as a splutter and everyone gaped at him.
James just chuckled, “Bloody alcoholic.”
Once all of them had their first round with varying success, Marlene insisted they play a drinking game. “Sevens!” Lily exclaimed at the same time Sirius said, “Never have I ever!”
“Let’s put it to a vote then,” Marlene suggested.
It wasn’t much of a competition, only Mary voted for Lily’s idea. “Sorry, Lils,” James said, “No one wants to be doing math while they’re smashed.”
“Well not everyone wants to air their dirty laundry while they’re inebriated either,” Mary had quite a few things she didn’t want out in the open, and being drunk was almost a surefire way to get her to spill her guts. Not for the first time, she cursed herself for being the lightweight of the group.
“Oh, I’m sure you haven’t got anything that bad, Mary,” Remus said reassuringly. If only he knew.
The game started with Sirius, of course, who insisted. “Never have I ever… gone skinny dipping!’
That one got Marlene, who had done it on a dare, and Mary, who had done it the first time she ever got high. Surprisingly, Peter also asked for the bottle, grumbling as he did so, “My stupid brother and his stupid friends…”
Then it was Lily’s turn, “Oh, I’ve got one. Never have I ever gotten a dreadful on my O.W.Ls.”
Everyone but Lily and Remus grumbled about that one, each of them damning Slughorn before taking a drink.
Things started picking up after that, no one bothered with turn order anymore, just saying the various misdeeds as they thought of them.
“Never have I ever smoked weed,” got Remus and Mary.
“Never have I ever snogged someone in an empty classroom,” got Remus, Sirius, Mary, and Marlene, though none of them would fess up any details.
“Never have I ever had a crush on a professor,” was clearly targeted at Peter, but he was a good sport about it.
“Never have I ever… kissed a girl!”
Sirius drank, earning a small frown from Remus. Marlene drank, and varying levels of shock reverberated through the room, but Lily just said, “Called it.”
“Never have I ever had a crush on one of my best friends.” Maybe Peter didn’t take his friends’ teasing as good naturedly as they thought, eyes shooting daggers at two of his roommates.
Remus drank first, earning a few gasps. Then he passed the bottle to Sirius, pointedly, who drank. “Oh, you two have got to be shitting me,” James said, but he was smiling.
Mary’s heart was pounding against her ribs, and she was sure that it was written all over her face as she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Before anyone could say anything else, she grabbed the bottle from Sirius. She was a gryffindor goddammit.
She took a drink, tipping the bottle to get the very last drop. The room fell silent.
Lily and Marlene looked at her, and then at each other.
Sirius looked at his empty hand where the bottle was, and then at the empty bottle in Mary’s shaky fingers. “Christ, we’re out of booze. Well, ladies and gentlemen, you all know what that means!”
Mary has never been more grateful to Sirius in her life as he took the bottle out of her hands and gathered up everyone’s attention.
Mary looked at her hands as her friends with varying levels of coordination formed a circle on the floor. She felt a knee brush hers and she looked up to see Lily trying to meet her gaze. Mary’s head was very fuzzy, and Lily’s knee was very warm.
Sirius placed the empty bottle in the middle of the circle and Mary’s gratitude to him ended in that moment, “Alright, folks, gryffindor rules; you kiss who it lands on no matter who, and if you get yourself you have to spin again.”
Sirius went first, spinning the bottle with a certain elegance that could only come from a Black. As the bottle slowed, the friends leaned in closer to one another. Remus.
“Well isn’t it my lucky day,” Sirius basically tackled the boy beside him, kissing him hard. It almost looked like it hurt. Almost. Mary felt the pang of jealousy as she watched two of her friends show the rest of them how sure they were of each other. How sure they were of how the other felt.
They kept kissing as Marlene spun the bottle. It whizzed around and stopped shortly after it started, the label caught on the carpet, pointing dead center towards James.
It was lucky the two of them weren’t shy, and Marlene had lost a few too many never-have-i-evers, she was so drunk she probably wouldn’t remember any of this, “Pucker up, Potter.”
It was quick and sweet. If anything, it was just as platonic as a hug would’ve been.
“Next time you better pray no one says never have I ever kissed a lesbian.” Marlene winks at him and James laughs comfortably.
Mary’s stomach twists itself in knots, bile rising in her throat. It’s her turn. She knows who she wants it to land on. She knows she shouldn’t want it to land on her. She spins the bottle.
It spins and spins. Mary thinks it’s broken, no bottle has ever spun this long before. Marlene, James, Peter, Remus, Sirius, Lily, Mary, Marlene, James, Peter, Remus… Sirius…
Lily…
Mary.
She sighs in relief, it landed on her, her turn is skipped. Except…
“Gryffidor rules, Mar,” Sirius chooses that moment to come up for air, an adequately ruffled Remus sitting up beside him, straightening his sweater. “Spin again.”
Mary’s heart resumes pounding. She spins. She knows who it’s going to land on before it stops. She knows the universe is cruel and the forces of nature have always been against her.
She knows it like she knows the shade of red Lily’s hair turns when the sun hits it just right. She knows it like she knows what nail polish Lily wears in the springtime. She knows it like she knows what songs Lily hums when she gets out of the shower in the morning. She knows it like she knows how Lily takes her tea. She knows it like she knows how deeply, desperately in love she is with her best friend.
It lands on Lily. Mary turns her head, her desperation in her eyes. What she doesn’t know is that Lily is just as desperate.
Just like that, Lily’s mouth is on Mary’s, warm and soft and sweet with a hit of salt. Like caramel. Lily cups Mary’s face with her hands, cradling her cheeks and pulling her closer. Closer. Mary’s hands slide over Lily’s waist, gentle, unsure. Her head is heavy with the feeling of Lily’s mouth, Lily’s hands, Lily’s tongue. Fuck.
Mary clutches Lily’s shirt like it’s a life preserver and she’s drowning. She’s drowning. Drowning in booze and warmth and Lily Evans. She wonders if Lily is drowning, too, before she remembers.
Lily is sober. Or as close as you can get. She hadn’t had a drop since her coughing fit. Never had she ever, it seemed. Never had she ever, until that moment, kissed a girl, had a crush on one of her best friends, and felt so so high. She kept kissing Mary, drowning Mary, and she was doing it sober. It was too much to take in, too much to endure. Mary gasped for air, hands clutching Lily’s hair, lips burning. This must be what it felt like to fall.
Mary felt a tear roll down her cheek and she realized why the kisses tasted salty.
((tysm for reading <3 and thanks to @marylily-my-beloved @imheredisappointingmyparents @ang3l0fde4th4ndd0gs @seekmemystar @obsessedwith15deadwizards @ephemeralstarss @osyhnixt @star-and-moon-shipper for motivating me to write this omg <33))
artists: @/sophithil on insta, @/spookeart on here and insta, @/industrations on here, @/likeafuneral on insta, @/greenlights333 on something (I assume Insta)
I’m Not Wearing My Usual Lipstick (I thought maybe we would kiss tonight)
The castle was blanketed with a snow that made everything quiet. Everything except the beating of Mary’s heart. She sat in the common room with a book that she had been pretending to read for hours now, stuck on the same page and rereading the same line over and over again without holding on to a single word.
Some of the others were hanging decorations for the Christmas party they were having tonight, the last night before they all split up for the winter holidays.
“Alright Mary?” James asked as he levitated gold tinsel above her head haphazardly, sprinkling gold glitter in her hair and between the pages of the book. James looked down and saw the mess he was making, “Shit, sorry Mary.”
”S’alright. Wasn’t doing much reading anyway.” Mary shut the book and forced a smile. She stood up from the armchair and moved towards the girls dormitories before she felt a hand on her shoulder.
James turned her around, “Are you sure you’re okay? Looked a little spaced out there.”
Mary put on her Mary charm, “Oh, don’t be such a worrywart, Potter. Just a boring book is all. Truth be told, I can't wait to get smashed tonight.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, “Well, if you ever need to talk… Alcohol isn’t all your friends are good for, y’know.”
“Oh James, you sap,” she shoved his shoulder and both of them laughed, “I’m going to get ready, now if you don’t mind.”
She didn’t wait for his answer, didn’t look up to confirm he was smiling his dopey one dimpled smile, just slid past and up the stairs to the room she shared with the girl that made her heart want to crawl out of her mouth.
Speak of the devil…
Flaming curls mostly tamed by a chunky braid falling to the middle of her back, Lily was at the mirror applying mascara that brought out the flecks of gold in her green eyes. It was the mascara that Mary gave her years ago, showing her how to put it on without getting clumps in the outer corners.
Marlene didn’t go near the stuff, preferring simple glamor spells or nothing at all, she didn’t understand the appeal of carefully layered creams and powders. Mary couldn’t explain how it felt, the mask of it all, the art.
Even if she could explain it, who would she tell?
So she quietly set her makeup bag next to Lily’s on the bathroom counter. It was indulgent of her, reckless. The bathroom was much too small for this, elbows crashing together, hips pressing against each other. Mary applied extra blush to cover the warmth that bloomed across her cheeks.
“Mary?” Based on her tone, this wasn’t the first time Lily had called her name.
”Yeah?”
”I said how’s the decorating coming along? They haven’t blown anything up yet have they?”
Mary smiled, “Nothing like that… yet”
”Those boys will be the death of me, I swear.” Lily took out a shimmery lip gloss, like she was trying to gut Mary where she stood.
Mary dragged her eyes away from the other girl’s reflection. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have to pry you off of James at the end of the night.” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice.
Lily’s hand stuttered, swiping lip gloss over her cheek.
Mary couldn’t stop her hands from reaching out to rub the smear with her thumb, other hand tucking a stray curl behind Lily’s ear. Lily’s face burned beneath her hands.
The lip gloss was gone from the spots it shouldn’t be, but Marys hand was still cradling Lily’s chin, thumb still rubbing circles just outside her mouth.
Lily exhaled, “Mary…”
Mary’s eyes traced her face, from jaw to freckles to eyes. Oh, those eyes. “Lily…”
Lily’s hands reached out, grasping for something to hold on to, anything, like a drowning man. Her fingers sunk into Mary’s waist, pulling them closer together, “Mary…”
Mary slid her fingers further up Lily’s cheek, “Lily…”
Lily leaned in, noses brushing, “Mary…”
Mary closed her eyes, allowed herself to free fall, “Lily…”
They were practically whispering into each other’s mouths now, lip gloss the only thing between them.
Lily jumped back like Mary’s skin burned. Her breaths heaved as she mumbled apologies and fled the bathroom, leaving her makeup sprawled on the counter.
And an utterly lost Mary to clean up the mess.
((hehe ty for reading!! lmk if i should extend this))
@marylilymicrofic november 28th, "wedding parties"
161 words. cw: nsfw, cheating
The bride is nowhere to be found.
The music is still blasting under the great wedding tent erected in the Potters’ garden, champagne and wine flowing, and the groom is otherwise occupied with grabbing his best man’s tie to scream song lyrics into his face.
In a guest room, two floors and a row of doors away from the heart of the party, Mary’s hands have rode up the white flounces of the wedding dress, and worked diligently on undoing the laces of the bride’s delicate stockings. Lily’s mouth is on her neck, breathless, her tongue licking down the length of her jaw.
She made her vows three hours earlier, hands in hands with the groom, but now, in the darkened room, it is a whole different kind of vows that are dragged out of her by Mary’s fingers – a marriage of their own, with no witness but the shallowness of their breaths and the bruises left on their necks.
"why do you write so much why do you write so many povs why do you write repetitive phrases why do you—" because i want to, next question. idk how to tell people that fanfic is quite literally the space to write the multi-ship, multi-pov, multi-plot stories with imperfect, unrealistic writing... this is one of the few places where we can actually do that and just have fun with it. that's one of the many purposes and perks of writing fanfiction to begin with. there are no rules. we can write however we want. it's what fanfic is for
Lily wraps her scarf closer around her as she walks through the park. Her steps leave footprints on the thick layer of snow covering the ground – the same spotless white as the hospital walls that now make her nauseous. The cold stings her gloveless fingers, but she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t mind much, nowadays. Not since – not now that Mary’s gone. Lily shakes the thought from her mind vigorously and picks up the pace. She met Mary in that very park, a little less than a year ago, back when she had no idea her world would be turned upside down by Mary’s bright smile, brighter eyes, and unevenly bleached blonde curls. She had sat next to Lily, violin in hand, and when she got up she had left an imprint on the snow covering the bench. The melody had struck a string in Lily’s heart, unburying memories of late night lessons and piano keys, and she’d let herself get dragged in Mary’s wake. Back then, she didn’t know that she’d come to depend on Mary more than she’d ever expected to – that she would come to walk through the same park they met in, and only see empty benches.
One thing that erks me so bad is when people play off Peter Pettigrew as the lost puppy of the Marauders or write him as always off with other people or just simply not as tight knit in the group as the rest of the boys.
THAT IS NOT TRUE! HE IS A MARAUDER HE WAS JUST AS PART OF THE GROUP AS JAMES SIRIUS AND REMUS!
That's what makes his betrayal so heartbreaking and unexpected is because Peter was their brother, he also broke the law and became an animagus in 5th year because he wanted to help his friend, he also stayed up late at night creating the map with them, he also traversed the castle under the invisibility cloak with them. He was apart of them in ever bit.
His betrayal was so devastating cause no one saw it coming, he was probably there with Sirius and Remus waiting to find out the news of when baby Harry was born. He was probably dubbed Uncle Wormtail just as Remus and Sirius were Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony.
He was their brother and his betrayal was as blindsided and shell shocking as if Remus or Sirius betrayed James and Lily, perhaps even more because Sirius was suspected due to his Black family heritage and Remus with his Lycanthrophy.
They must have thought oh its definitely not Peter though, Peter is as loyal ad they come, he has nothing in his life that might pull him to the death eater, and depending on which version of Marauders lore you subscribe to Peter is possibly a life long childhood friend of James, grew up down the road always did everything together.
He was the last one they'd expect to be the snitch that's why Sirius told James to make him secret keeper and why James full heartedly excepted that choice. James never would've put the life of his wife and child in the hands of someone if he didn't wholeheartedly believe they would defend them as if they were James.
That's why it's so heartbreaking and that's why everytime I read a fic that plays Peter off as a clumsy guys that just wonders around them I get a upset because that's not who he was and I don't want to take creative liberties away from anyone else but in my fics Peter will get the character he deserves (so you can all cry with me when he ultimately betrays them).
November prompts <3 the theme is winter in general but we sneaked in one Christmas prompt! Enjoy and don’t forget to tag us <3
FAQ and prompts written out under the cut ! <3
RULES/FAQ:
please tag the fics appropriately, because there are things people aren't comfortable with and we want to make sure it's tagged properly, don't forget to ADD TWs
We allow NSFW only written by people 18+
While we don't have a limit on the amount of words for these microfics, they are supposed to be short, so preferably 1.5k or under.
If we do start getting more popular we will crosspost these fics on ao3, so if you're not ok with that just say so explicitly. If you have an ao3 we will link it there, as well as your tumblr.
You can write whatever you want about marylily
Please tag us so we can see what you write and we can reblog it ♡
our tag we're going to use is marylilymicrofic so don't forget to use that ♡
a/n: irish catholic lily evans! and playing about with a sapphic angle for her. i’m neither irish nor catholic, but i am gay as hell, so hopefully that pulls through for me. very slight implied nsfw near the end. lots of christianity.
The fact that this is not the Mary Lily wants to be kneeling before most right now is precisely why she’s doing it.
It’s quiet in the cathedral. An awful, echoey, hollow quiet that reflects its nothingness back onto itself into infinity like a great big hall of silent mirrors. The sort of quiet that makes your head scream and your muscles tense because it feels like nowhere should ever or could ever be so deathly empty. It’s cold too. The tips of Lily’s fingers are almost freezing off. She tries to warm them by clasping her hands together tighter in prayer, but to no avail. Maybe never quite being able to rid the prickly chill from her bones is just God’s will. She keeps her eyes firmly shut and attempts desperately to ignore the impending sense of nausea brewing stormily in her stomach.
Everything’s just right. She’s confident about this - she could do this in her sleep, in death, even if she were ninety odd with a memory threatening to fail her. It’s ingrained in her bones by now, whether she likes it or not. But everything is also wholly, wholly wrong. Her head is bowed like it ought to be, but it’s not really in reverence. More because she can’t seem to bring herself to look her Blessed Virgin in the eyes when she’s like this. It’s strange. She always used to feel comforted by Mary. When she was very little she used to call her mammy. Mother. Something about such a beautifully holy woman had always resonated with her, beyond the many boring hours spent kicking her feet in mass and yawning her way through the hymns. In hindsight, she supposes bitterly, that was probably just another fucking warning sign. The comfort she used to bring Lily is absent now though, here in the cold and the quiet. The statue in front of her is just that, a statue. Lifeless and unfeeling and dead in the way that only things that have never quite been alive can be.
Her mind wanders. She doesn’t mean it to. She means to be disciplined. She means to pray properly and perfectly like she always has and ask God to guide her, or else simply do away with the whole wretched business and let her just return to how everything was before, before she’d let herself become sullied by feelings of all fucking things. But the brain is a traitorous bastard. And it is cold, and it is quiet, and not for the first time since Lily met her the girl proves to be far greater than her eponym. Mary. She slips smirking into Lily’s thoughts with alarming ease, the ghost of her touch sending shivers down her spine and electrifying every cell in her body. Images of her shift and swirl. At first they are innocent and true, memories of her unaltered by fantasy. The softness of her skin, her glossy brown ringlets, the warmth and unapologetic vivacity of her laugh ringing out like church bells across the morning dew. One moment she is speaking animatedly and bright-eyed about something she’s read in a magazine, the next, applying lip gloss before her compact. It’s that one that tips it. Suddenly, Lily’s mind swoops viciously into the realm of imagination, and against her will Mary is looking directly at her, tilting her head, advancing towards her. Her lips are pretty and plump and perfect and Lily wants nothing more than to try, to taste, to touch, to take. It’s no time at all before figmental fingers are feeling their way down between her thighs, and she can practically hear Mary’s sweetly melodic voice low and breathy in her ear, and the sensations are all impossibly real, and magical, and heady and everything begins to edge terrifyingly into overwhelm and-
Lily counts three steps from the cathedral door before she is sick in the grass.
