#Jily micro moody march

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since the word order is completely shot anyway… pick what you’d prefer… and help me choose 😅

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@jilychallenge I've struggled with my January challenge but it clearly needed some additional prompts, so thank you @jilymicrofics for the Moody March list. So here it finally is @petals2fish.

I loved your Hungergame AU Catching Fire so I hope you will like this Medieval Jily fic. JilyChallenge January 2024 Theme: Love in Tough Times. Prompt: oh lord, o lord what have I done? I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run, Oh Lord, Oh lord, I’m begging you please, Don’t take this sinner away from me (The devil’s backbone / civil wars) / TS Don’t blame me (Oh lord, save me, my drug is my baby, I’ll be using for the rest of my life @jilymicro-oops || Moody March day 4 || despondent || ca 1250 wrds. Read Chapter one: To Hang... on ao3 thanks @tinyluminaryzombie for last minute beta reading (Chapter 2 will be up sometime tomorrow) ! please check the warnings in the notes !

To Hang...

People enter the city through the guarded gates, most are on foot, some on horseback. A few heavy carts, pulled by oxen with laboured breaths, make their way to the heart of town. The smells of baked goods mingle with earth and mud and unwashed clothes.

Lily has escaped her sister's nagging and moves through the throngs of people who have come to watch the procession later today. Unlike others who have come to their wares at the market or in the hopes of making a good bargain, Lily has come on a fanciful whim. She has met someone, a stranger. Rationally she knows he will be long gone. He’s a man of adventures, a sword for hire, who does not linger in a place like this. Still, she's come today on the off-chance she might catch a glimpse of him.

The sun still hangs low in the sky but she can already tell it will be another hot day.

read on...

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day 8 Moody March Jily micro has turned into a @jilymicro-oops (ca 1050 words) || Uneasy

Read of Rats and Men on ao3 or under the cut.

Of Rats and Men

Lily did not need a man in her life, never mind what her sister might say and think about the matter.  She had her own place, a nice job, three good friends that made her feel appreciated, respected and loved. So really, what could a man possibly add to all that? For her physical needs she was also well set, the satisfyer pro 2 had never let her down. In fact, ever since she’d gifted it to herself her highs had reached peaks no boyfriend had ever managed.  So, no man needed.  Lily was not afraid to be alone, she also didn’t fear the dark. She didn’t like spiders, but they too provided no need for rescue, nor did a leaking tap. Over the years she’d learned a thing or two about the odd job around the house.

She’d just finished rewatching Pride and Prejudice, which always put her in a good satisfied mood. She wasn't a hater of romance, she just didn't believe in it much, outside of fiction.  Indulging herself, she found the part where Mr Darcy hands Elisabeth into the carriage, and watched it, again and again and again. She relished the tension that seemed to crackle from the screen. All fictional, of course, in real life a touch could never be so loaded.

With a sigh, she got up from the couch, the cold of the night air brushing her bare legs. Then she froze.  A dark something was in her room.  It didn’t move so she didn’t either, she held her breath. She clapped her hand in front of her mouth and her other over her heart that beated as if she was racing instead of standing stock still.

A rat. A rat in her house. She could make out its body, the long tail must be curled around it. Just thinking about its tail made her gag. It wasn’t rational. She might be small, but there was not a rat big enough in the world to really hurt her. That wasn’t the point. It was a bloody rat. With teeth and diseases and wriggly feet and a naked scaly tail and it was in her room.  With a scream she turned, fled through the door and rushed outside. She didn’t feel the cold, all she could think of was that she needed someone to help her. This late the streets were empty, some rooms in the street still had lights on, but before she could decide which doorbell to ring, a man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, into the beam of the streetlight. 

He was tall, a mop of untamed black curls adding to his towering presence. He wore glasses that gave him a trustworthy look, and the way he moved was all confidence. Lily was so relieved to see someone oozing strength and confidence that she nearly jumped him, without a second thought she grabbed him by his arm.  “You’ve got to help me, there’s a rat in my house. Please, can you get rid of it for me?” she said with hardly a pause between her words, and then she was pulling him along. At first he didn’t move, he just opened and closed his mouth.

She never gave him a chance to say anything before she tugged at his arm again and said, “Please, help me. It’s in my living room and I can’t go to bed because I’m too scared to walk past it. I'll get you a broom or something, but can you please, please just come and chase it away?”

Rigidly the man started to move alongside her and once inside she pushed him into her living room, grabbed a broom from the cupboard and handed it to him. She pointed to where the rat still sat and whispered, “There, it’s right there. It hasn’t moved. Please can you kill it?” To his credit the man nodded in understanding and carefully took the broom out of her hands. He shrugged off his coat and loosened his tie as he stepped into her living room. Lily stared at his back, forgetting about the rat for a moment because he looked rather good in his perfectly fitted shirt. She wondered if he had just come from some kind of fancy dinner, when he started to shake. 

She frowned. Was he afraid? The man stepped closer to the rat, poked with the stick end of the broom and proceeded to lift something from the floor.  “I think you’re safe to come in now,” he said, and she could hear the laughter in his voice. Warily, she stepped closer and peered over his broad shoulder, when he turned around she gasped. ��At the broom’s end one of her black espadrilles was dangling in the air.  Right now would she'd give anything to be able to scroll back in time, to before she had grabbed a stranger from the street dressed in nothing more than an oversized t-shirt to save her from her footwear. Her sister was right, she was a freak.

Suddenly feeling very uneasy, she tugged at the edge of her shirt, which did exactly nothing, except draw attention to her state of undress. “I'm so, so sorry. You must think I’m a complete lunatic for…well… thinking there was a rat.”   “It's alright,” he said and stepped a little closer. With a solemn face he held out her shoe. “Here, best to face your fears head-on.”  Lily stared at him and when she saw his lips twitch began to giggle uncontrollably; she simply couldn't stop herself.

Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment, but she was now doubled over laughing with a complete stranger in her room.

Feeling still foolish but somewhat better she took her shoe, and her fingers brushed his hand. She looked into his eyes, still crinkling from laughing but she knew he felt the same shift in the air around them. The room was full with something like anticipation. She held her breath, not sure what was going on, not sure what it was she was waiting for. 

He ruffled his hair and cleared his throat. Then he stuck out his hand.

“Hi, my name's James, and if it’s not too forward of me, I would like to give you my number. Just so you can call me in case you need help, erm,  should you find the other one," he pointed at the shoe that was pressed against her chest, "scurrying around.”

Lily took his hand, “Hi, I’m Lily, and I’d like that very much.”

It was never wrong to reconsider the things you thought you could well do without, such as rats and men, after all.

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Day 7 Moody March || @jilymicrofics || Enraged || 482 wrds

Read Straight From the Horse's Mouth on ao3 or under the cut

Lord Potter flung himself in the saddle. The stable boy jumped backwards just in time to avoid the great horse’s hooves.  James’s volatile mood instantly transferred to Prongs, his young stallion with boundless amounts of nervous energy. As soon as he landed in the saddle they were off, flying past his friends who started shouting at him. He did not heed them.

He needed to be away, to hear only pounding hooves and the howling wind in his ears. He needed to stop hearing Mr Snape's words in his mind.

Even if he knew, rationally, there was no reason, no real reason anyway, to think Miss Evans would ever accept the unpleasant man's suit, still, the thought of him proposing to her, enraged him beyond anything he’d ever experienced. Why was that? Why did it bother him so much to think of her as another's. Was it just his severe dislike of Mr Snape? 

James knew it wasn't just that. He wanted her. He deserved her. Well, maybe he didn’t deserve her exactly, but neither did Mr Snape, who believed women were only meant to serve their husbands. He would treat her like nothing more than a good looking pet. The whole idea was absolutely repugnant. 

Prongs was on a stampede now, his mane flared out in the wind. Just like the wind swept through James's hair. If they kept going this fast his hat would surely be lost before long. The strong muscles underneath him tensed with each great stride, a hedge proved no obstacle for one swift jump cleared it with ease. 

After the second jump his mind cleared and for a while there was nothing but the contracting muscles underneath him, the rhythm of the gallop through the wide forest path, the thundering of hooves, the loud exhales of Prongs and his own short breaths.

At a clearing he slowed and stopped. The sun was out, the leaves of the trees threw their moving shadows over the mossy forest floor. Prongs snorted loudly then pulled the reins and stretched his neck, bending down to rub his face against his front legs. The motion jerked James forward. The moment of awkwardness made him laugh at himself, which reminded him again of miss Evans. She dearly liked to laugh, as he'd come to learn. She would not shy away from telling him her mind, or even tease him, and he'd come to enjoy that even more than her lovely face

Wasn’t it better that he should hear it from the horse’s mouth? Instead of driving himself crazy over what ifs and losing his mind over things that hadn't happened yet. 

What if he approached Miss Evans to ask for her hand, what would be the worst that could happen?  As if he could read his mind Prongs shook himself and sidestepped some invisible creature, nearly throwing James with his abrupt movement. 

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Word day 22 March Moody Microfics || Surprised|| @jilymicrofics

Read A Particularly Exquisite Vegetable (day 22 Surprised) on ao3 or below the cut.

A Particularly Exquisite Vegetable

The Greengrasses were popular and they enjoyed company as much as their guests enjoyed their feasts. So the whole of the Hogsmeade Assembly gladly accepted the dinner invitation to celebrate the engagement of Miss Lyra Bones to the Greengrass's heir.

Lily found herself seated next to Mr Snape. She was not happy about it. His condescending and frankly rude remarks after she’d literally saved his skin from a sure beating by Mr Potter and the younger Lord Black, still stung.  Really, having heard some of the abhorrent opinions of the man, she would not have bothered, but at the time she had not known him well. She had simply stepped up for a man, who looked to her, in physical appearances, to be the weaker party. 

This evening she was no longer surprised when he stated his concerns for the felicity of Mr Greengrass, since he considered Miss Lyra to be in possission of several serious defects of temper; she was headstrong and had a foolish interest in inappropriate subjects such as Philosophy and the running of her future husband’s estate.  Lily suppressed the urge to quote Socrates to him or mention how her father used to discuss every decision about his tenants with her.

When she pretended he wasn't actually here at all, she found Mr Snape to be less intolerable.  Mr Snape, however, did nothing to make it easier for her to ignore him.

“The potatoes are without a doubt the best I’ve ever tasted. Surely, you agree, Miss Evans?”

“Hmm... I suppose they are…well done,” she answered, wondering if the man was a secret potato fetishist. He seemed to be happy enough with her answer so she let her mind wander to more palatable subjects. Like Lord Potter, who she now noticed, sitting only a few places to her right.  

Meanwhile, Mr Snape kept his inane and one-sided conversation going.  “I’m proud to tell you I’ve been personally invited to the Deed’s club. Of course, I am not about to get blackballed, unlike those two scoundrels, Lord Potter and Black.”

Lily looked up at Lord Potter at that, she wondered if he could hear what was being said about him. The thought almost made her speak up against Mr Snape’s disparaging remarks. She didn't want Lord Potter to believe she was in agreement with Mr Snape, but he was not to be silenced, if anything he seemed to have found new energy to unleash his next words.

“I realise that you, my dear Miss Evans, are well aware of the success I am about to become. Which brings me to a delicate and private matter. Lord Riddle, has advised me to find a suitable wife, a woman such as yourself, to be the proper and dutiful mistress of my home.”

Lily choked on her potato. 

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Yesterday's @jilymicrofics for the Moody March word Irritable

Read Early Birds on ao3 or below the cut!

Early Birds

Lily scrunched up her nose, she had no desire to be here, but she had signed up months ago.  Back then, her company’s offer to their employees to pick any course they liked for their personal growth had seemed a great idea. Now, standing on a pavement, waiting for the last of her colleagues (all at least 25 years her senior) to arrive to the bird-watching outing, at five am in the godforsaken morning, (seriously even the bloody birds were likely sensible enough to still be tucked away in their warm nests), Lily wasn’t happy about it.

A man her age, his hair in a ‘I was still asleep just three minutes ago’-look, but the rest of his face all energy and eagerness, was beaming at them. Not that anyone in their group paid him much attention, Lily noted at least four out of five of her co-workers who could barely keep their eyes open. She hid a yawn with her hand. Why had she not seen the ridiculous early starting time, she thought irritable. 

And who was the guy? She’d never seen him at work before, and their company wasn’t exactly overflowing with good looking men. She would have noticed him if he had been present at their end of year drinks.

As if he heard her thoughts, he turned and looked straight at her, a smile of the winning variety on his lips. Goodness, she would not notice if an Eagle Owl were to land on her shoulder, with him looking at her like that.

“Ah, thank goodness, you haven’t left without me. I’m sorry for being late, have I missed anything?” Lily blinked and shook her head to the last arrival. Mrs Pomfrey was a sweet older lady, who would always fuss about Lily, scolding her when she worked late and saying she should have more fun.

The unknown man was making the rounds and Lily was surprised to see he had something to say to everyone. 

When he stood before Lily and Mrs Pomfrey, the latter stuck her hand out enthusiastically and smiled widely at the man, and then at Lily, “Well, it’s a great pleasure to finally meet Lily’s boyfriend. What’s your name again, young man?”

The man’s smile didn’t falter, "Goodmorning ladies, I’m your guide this morning. My name is James Potter.”

Lily’s brows flew up and she spluttered,“Erm, he’s not…I don't have a boyfriend.”

Mrs Pomfrey didn't seem at all phased by her error and just patted Lily on the back and left to chat to her good friend Mrs Sprout, dressed in a camouflage outfit for the morning. 

Lily looked down, feeling her traitorous cheeks flush. He didn't move on, which she was rather hoping for, but when his feet stayed in the same spot she looked up, and up and up to find his eyes. A crooked pair of glasses hid them from first view, but she could see they were a lovely hazel, and his gaze upon her was warm and soft. His eyes crinkled at the corners, which disarmed her entirely. Just before it got weird, them just standing there and smiling at one another he smiled and said “Lucky for me, the day is still young.”

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Two more Regency microfic's @jilymicrofics where all roads lead to Jily's holy matrimony, or Love or quite likely both...

Read No Good Deed Goes Unpunished on ao3 or below the cut, Please note Mr Snape is not nice, and karma is a bitch...

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished (moody march word: revolted)

He never doubted who he’d find in the locked library.  Miss Evans could not leave the ball, as he well knew. He congratulated himself once more on his foresight to talk to Mr Dursley. He was well aware of Mrs Dursley’s disapproval, although it was inexplicable why she should think him beneath her sister’s touch. He’d offered for her with only one mention of her small dowry, he was a gentleman after all.  Now at last he would claim her, for if her virtue would keep her from accepting him, she would surely not continue to reject him once her virtue depended on becoming his wife. 

The master key in his hand, he thought for a moment of knocking and making his presence known, but that would not do. So he turned and opened the door. 

The room was barely lit, the fire in the hearth the only light. Still the sight that met him was one that absolutely revolted him. He could do nothing but stare at first. His thoughts whirred loudly in his head, his teeth crunched nearly bitting off his own tongue. His hand gripped the door handle hard, his knuckles turned white. 

He was going to murder Lord Potter. His nostrils flared, he was about to shout, but stopped before he could utter a sound. What if he called compromise now, he would be the one to force Miss Evans into the marriage bed with Lord Potter. What if he called out and Lord Potter turned his back on her, leaving her ruined forever?

His patron would not allow him to marry a wife that was compromised, he was sure of it. All his aspirations to be knighted and to be a member of Parliament would be severely damaged if he took a bit of muslin for a wife. 

He had lost, thoroughly and fully lost. He could do nothing but close the door on his most hated enemy and the woman he had wanted to have most. For he would not give his ambitions up, not for her, not if this was her true nature. No, his future was with his patron, not with a woman. 

He spat on the ground, hatred boiled in him, so much that he didn’t watch where he was going. A group of rowdy men, all too far into their cups stood at the bottom of the stairs, he pushed through them, not caring if he knocked them down. A shout, a punch, more shouting and before anyone knew what happened a full blown brawl had begun. 

Mr Snape was not a fighter. His injuries were of the kind that modern medicine would be able to cure easily, but not for another hundred years…  

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Jily seen through other people's eyes... Quidditch at Hogwarts.

Written with Moody March Day 18 : Focused || @jilymicro-oops Read Reserve Seeker on ao3

“…and that’s today's Slytherin team. Unlike the Gryffindors there's absolutely nothing surprising about this line-up. Both teams need to win today's match if they want to have a shot at the Cup. Tension levels between the two Houses have been rising higher than the Quidditch Hoops in the last week, and I don't think anyone feels the bad luck of Gryffindor's star players is coincidental. 

The reality for the Lions is that three of Gryffindor’s star players are not playing today. I for one, would have liked to have been a fly on the wall in Professor Slughorn’s office when he spoke to the potentially involved students of his House and—”

“Callum, your job is to comment on the game, not to feed us conspiracy theories and gossip.” McGonagall hisses at the Ravenclaw sixth year sitting in the commentator’s box.

“Ah, alright Professor, so we have the Gryffindor Captain grounded, in a far more effective way than any teacher has managed in all of Potter's years pulling pranks at this school—- well, it’s not gossip if it’s true Professor.”

Every seat in the Quidditch pitch is occupied, some last minute arrivals try to find somewhere to stand and still have a good view of the game that’s about to begin. 

On the ground the two teams, one clad in bright red, the other a vibrant green, are shaking hands. 

“Ouch that looked painful. Captain Wilkes looks more than a little red in the face. Seems he wanted to disable Gryffindor’s reserve seeker before the match, with that excuse for a handshake. But it appears Wilkes miscalculated and is now feeling the sharp claws of the Lions. He should have known better, for she may be small, she’s fierce. I’d not like to be on her bad side, personally.

continue ...

[practicecourts]

A collection of links to the regency Moody March prompts that got a little out of control and could be read as sequels but also as different ways Regency Lord Potter & Miss Evans danced around each other.

Missed Dance

A Particulary Exquisite Vegetable

Straight From the Horse's Mouth

No Good Choices

Disheartened (aka Hiding in the Library part 1)

The many routes to Jily Love from the "situation in the Library"

A Woman of Inferior Birth vs To Seduce vs A Fainting Spell

Meanwhile outside of the *library* pple are going about their business...

To Win

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Secret Keeper

Whatever the route... when in love do as lovers do ;-) Green Dress

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Last but not least a different Regency micro (because somehow my brain couldn't let go of this world just yet)

Back to Black

I might go back to edit and turn this into a longer story but for now I just don't have the time to do it justice,

I'm not sure if you are on Tumblr but a special thank you to Mrs Flowerpotts for all the love and encouragement you gave (to all the march micro's but to Lord Potter & Miss Evans especially ;-)

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ALL ROADS LEAD TO.... JILY LOVE OF COURSE!!

This is one version of what could happen when Lord Potter & Miss Evans find themselves to be in the same room together...

jilymicrofic Moody March prompt: day inferior (but i just saw its slightly over 1000 words, so @jilymicro-oops here we are & probably more to come)

Read A Woman of Inferior Birth on ao3

(please forgive my errors, I've not had much time due to some rl stuff, but I wanted to keep up with one micro a day, so quantity over quality it is... )

Lily had almost made it to the door. She was surprised the beating of her heart wasn’t actually audible all over Dumbledore Hall. Her hand reached for the doorknob when suddenly she heard a sound from behind the door. She froze. If she left now, she would surely run into whoever was walking down the corridor and thus be seen fleeing a room with an unmarried man. 

“I’m sure she has not left yet, for I made an arrangement with her guardian,” the voice of Mr Snape was easy to recognise. Lily recoiled, she shrank backwards, into the darkness, until her back touched the immovable bookcases that lined the walls of the room.

“Mr Snape, I’m sure she’s a tempting armful but why do you insist to offer for a woman of such inferior birth? It seems detrimental to the path you’ve outlined for yourself, if I were you I’d consider having the milk but not the cow. Go Carte-blanche, my dear fellow.”

“You make an interesting suggestion, Lord Yaxley…” Snape drawled.

Lily closed her eyes, the voices were so loud, they had to be right outside the door of the library. If they came in… She could hardly breathe. When the steps continued she clasped her hand in front of her mouth, eyes still shut tight.  It was one thing to know how other’s perceived her, it was another entirely to hear the words spoken out loud. She was near trembling.  A hand touched her wrist, and she almost cried out, she’d completely forgotten she wasn’t alone. Continue reading