#atssa

FICS:

another pawn out of the game (completed, 1.9k words)

"you opened a door that a kid shouldn't walk through," dorcas said, glaring at the man in front of her, who could keep so calm even though the world was a storm around them, "but you managed to lure them in with the candy of promises you did, but knew that you couldn't keep."

The Sinners and The Saints (wip, 12.2k words, collaboration with enbysiriusblack)

A canon compliant fic, following the events between the graduation of The Marauders and Halloween 1981. Dark times lie ahead, but happiness can be found even in the darkest of times.

the girl gone cray (wip, 23.8k words)

Dorcas was going to avenge their lost lover, a woman with who they couldn't live. But now they had to.

And whoever killed Marlene forgot their wand. They took it into their hands and immediately recognized it.

Peter.

i’ll break your pretty face (wip, 14.6k words)

Dorcas Meadowes had never been one for hatred. They loved people openly, proudly, friends and family, showing them off, a necklace around their neck, keeping them safe, with them. It had always been like that, from the moments with their father, some a blur, some vivid, like a new painting on canvas, to the days spent with their mates, their friends, people they loved.

Dorcas Meadowes had never been one for hatred. Yet what they felt for Marlene McKinnon was exactly that. Marlene McKinnon, with her stupid blonde mullet, with her stupid brown eyes, with her stupid red lips, and with her stupid nose piercing. They resented each other. Loathed, hated, there were so many synonyms that could describe what Dorcas felt for Marlene, and what Marlene felt for Dorcas.

That was, until they'd fall in love.

your lips, my lips (apocalypse) (wip, 12.6k words)

“The apocalypse has… phsst… started. Please make yourselves a supply of… phsst… and stay in your homes. Try to look for… phsst… to defend yourselves from whatever may try to harm you and… phsst… not let anyone inside your home under… phstt… unless you trust them.”

The apocalypse had started. There are two sides. Love and impending doom loom over them, thick and dark, and the end is imminent. It is their choice whether they make their end bittersweet or go down with love in their hearts.

all the sinners (sin again) (wip, 5k words)

The North Sea was clashing against the tall cliffs, foaming at the edges, white and washed away blue and rocky grey all combined. Maybe picturesque, but a sight that could have been turned into a painting that could have made it to the museum. In the back of the art gallery, because something so lifeless would never be the center of attention, but it would be a secret of those who dared wonder further, who wanted to learn its secrets.

The sky was of a light, dull grey, riddled with clouds, and the distant rumble of thunder predicted a storm. It was already raining, a soft pitter-patter that could've slipped unnoticed. Everything was quiet. The Cave was empty.

The last person that had been known to have gone there was Regulus Black, the heir of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, who had disappeared and never came back in 1979, four years before. The funeral had been bodiless; the heir hadn't been found.

Regulus had been eighteen when he died.

as the world falls down (wip, 13.5k words)

This is a fic following The Marauders and their friends from their sixth year to 1981. The world shifts around them, from the believed safety of Hogwarts to the war raging outside their school's gates, and, after they will leave the safety they had been granted, they will need to learn how to protect themselves, and those that they love.

Dorlene, Jily, and Wolfstar slowburn, as they discover their feelings for each other and come to terms with them, and it follows the friendships and the dynamics that are built and then ruined between them, little by little, built and chipped away.

War looms over them, and they will need each other to get through it.

They will need each other's love and friendship as they grieve for the fallen soldiers, people that used to be their friends and that they had loved.

This fic has shifting POVs, to see the way everyone sees the world around them. Their motives, needs, and the way they see the world will be for the readers to see, the characters opened books for you to read.

(I will try to answer to all of the comments you leave on the fic! And I thank each one of my betas, readers, and everyone that encouraged and encourages me to write this fic! :* <3)

narcissa is longing for the sea, but is afraid of the water (and, maybe, the sea is inside her) (wip, 9k words)

Her face seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She seemed like a distant childhood memory, someone she had used to know, years before, but had forgotten. Someone left in a book between a hundred others, gathering dust already, but someone that was still worth remembering. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been in Narcissa’s books.

Narcissa's life used to be perfect. She used to do what she liked to do, dancing, but an injury stops her from continuing. She is miserable, and seeking to find her worth again. She is brought, by memories, to the café in which she and her father used to spend their time, but it wasn't the same anymore. There was a new barista too, Alice, a charming woman with dark skin and intelligent, warm brown eyes, and Narcissa's heart thrums against her chest whenever she looks at her.

(Inspired by Coraline by Maneskin)

a familiar memory (of what i had once been) (wip, 5.9k words)

Mary MacDonald had thought that she lived at least a semi-decent life. She had a job in a London hospital, and she lived with her sister and five-year-old son, Dean. Her life was absolutely, perfectly normal, despite the fact she didn't remember most of her life. Tucked in the back of her mind, away, unable to reach.

One night, she meets Remus Lupin, the bartender from the club she goes to, and why does he seem familiar? She knows him from somewhere, but she can't quite place him anywhere. Remus tells her all sorts of things, and, in a way, she feels like the same memories dug deep within her start coming back, alive, burning her, a fire that won't stop, but she can't quite bring herself to put it out.

And so, she finds herself talking to strangers and dancing with drag queens in gay bars and finding herself once again, talking sweet nothings about a life she can't even remember, but she knows one thing about it; it had been hers, once.

(Set in the 1980s, this fic features period-typical issues, outdated language, as well as mentioning/dealing with the HIV/AIDS epidemic. This is a general warning for the whole fic, but I will notify you in which chapters this appears and the way it is mentioned/discussed.)

the city that you've torn (the love that we've built) (wip, 2.6k words)

Remus balled Sirius' shirt in his fist. "Take care, alright?"

"Of course I will, my sweet poet. Don't I always?"

"No, you don't. You never do." The words were bitter on Remus' tongue. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to think of the possibility of living without Sirius. Didn't want to think of an universe where Sirius was not to be, the sky dimmer without him.

"I'll fight for my kingdom whatever it takes. Even if I am to die for it. I'll die for you, too. Now, goodbye, my love." He said, smiling, and he kissed his lover's cheek tenderly. "Write a sonnet for when I will come back, will you?"

Grabbing his sword, Sirius closed the door behind him. Remus stood in front of it, in awe and scared, quills and parchment scattered at his feet.

(Love. War. Secrets. Death. A tumult of rotten feelings and of something unplaceable, a hollow pit in one's stomach, an ache of their heart. The death of a lover.)

cherry lips (adolescent devotion) (wip, 4.3k)

They had earlier picked fruit from the tree in Lily’s garden. The bowl of cherries was empty, filled with only the seeds. The crimson red juice had wet the table, running down their fingers, staining Mary’s lips red. Lily felt the ardent desire to kiss her, to see what cherries felt like on Mary’s lips.

To see what it felt like to love Mary.

(Or, Mary visits Lily in Cokeworth during the summer between their sixth and seventh year, and they fall in love.)

ONE-SHOTS:

Happy Xmas (War’s Over) (1.3k words, gift made for the Wolfstar Server Secret Santa event)

Songfic based on John Lennon's song with the same name as the title

(Early Christmas fic that is dedicated and to my Secret Santa giftee)

one last goodbye and a heartfelt conversation of missing soulmates (0.8k words each, independent works, a part of the girl gone cray series)

there is something in the air (0.6k words, Wolfstar Bingo entry)

Prompt: Free Space. I have decided to turn it into Lie Low at Lupin's because I just love this period, of beginning again and of learning to love again <3

so, please hurry (leave me) (1.2k words)

“And when she was in the plane, and the engines started rumbling loudly, and the people around her were yawning and already falling asleep, seeing the given hour, she closed her eyes, resting her head against the cold porthole, and mouthing one last sorrowful goodbye before starting all over again.”

how a saint could love a flower (1.7k words)

"So, she’d cherish Mary and kiss her body, her lips feathering against soft flesh and dark skin, and her breath would shake against her lover’s skin, because she had been blessed, because Holy Mary herself had descended upon her, in the shape of her own, beautiful Mary, that she would love forever."

fake dating (real love) (3.7k words)

Remus sighed, letting his head hit the bedpost with a thud. The whole thing that Sirius was requesting was just absurd. He had been in love with his best friend ever since they were fifteen when Sirius had broken out of his shell, leather, and cigarettes and cold rings against his friend’s hands whenever they’d meet. Now, twenty-five years old, Remus felt the same way, his heart beating rapidly in his chest whenever Sirius’ name came up. He was in love, he had been in love; and he will be in love, because how could he not love Sirius?

(The one time when Remus dated Sirius, just for the holidays, and found out it wasn't going to be just for that period of time, after all.)

a star has dimmed (with one last flicker) (3.7k words)

Life is similar to a book. Every book has a start and an ending, and all are beautiful, in their way. Some mundane, some exciting, but all books have something, a spark, that makes them unique, that makes them worth reading, because no book deserves to be left on a shelf, dusty and old, its pages still crisp and its ink dried long ago. Each person writes their books, all neat pages and cursive handwriting, chapters and acts, and, at last, the book is finished.

To most, the thirty-first of December would be the chance to new chapters, leaving the one before behind. It would be a possible, granted something, the chance for one to redeem oneself,

For Regulus Black, the new year would be the end.

lately i’ve been dressing for revenge (2.6k words)

Andromeda Black had never been a woman of aggressive action.

She had always preferred a serpent-like attack; quiet, yet deadly, she lured in her prey with empty promises, and, when all was said and done, she would finish them as easily as that. Instead of shouting to the sky the secrets of the world, she would prefer to open Pandora’s box quietly, letting the dark slip out, seeping through the cracks, setting fire to the world and, when all was ash, she’d grin like the devil, warm brown eyes that could turn so dark, so cruel, and she’d set fire to them too, until there was nothing left.

She preferred quietness, of course. She preferred peace and the beauty of a simplistic lifestyle, one in which she would not bother anyone, and one in which she would not be bothered by anyone. Until someone would get in her way, until something would disrupt her peace.

he had a cigarette (with his number on it) (1.5k words)

That was a big, fat lie. He just wanted to call the number on it, really, but how was he supposed to tell Sirius that?

Oh, yeah, I just saw you, but I really fancy you and you’re really fit and I would like for you to call me because I feel the strong desire to talk to you and taste your lips that probably taste like tobacco and the alcohol I saw you drinking in the club, because I totally wasn’t looking at you

— ☆ —

thank you @arakhnee for the tag <33 ily /p

(chronological order)

so please hurry (leave me) - posted, completed, 1.2k words

She’d leave her keys in the car. Someone would steal it, surely, but after what had been stolen from Mary, a car was so insignificant. She wouldn’t come back, either way, she knew she wouldn’t, so she would never need it again. She promised herself she wouldn’t visit Great Britain again, and most certainly not bloody London.

how a saint could love a flower - posted, completed, 1.7k words

Because Mary was everything, the sun in the sky, the moon of the nights, the sky’s stars, she gave the world life and love and joy and laughter, and she was Lily’s, her muse, her lover, her everything.

your lips, my lips (apocalypse) - posted, wip, 4.5k words

She loved Stevie Nicks. And it might sound cliché, but her favorite song was Edge of Seventeen. It reminded her of those late nights she spent with Mary and Marlene at that stupid camping site back when they were fourteen. Lily remembered how she smoked her first cigarette in the bathroom of their cabin, in that old bathroom with light blue tiles and a yellowing bathtub, to the tune of this song.

i'll break your pretty face - posted, wip, 8.5k words

Marlene moaned, dramatically. “They’re all fucking ugly! They all look like backward apes who haven't seen the sun ever since the day they have been born! The only one that’s a bit more decent is Freddie, and I only like his haircut, because, let’s face it, it’s cool. I’d get a haircut like that too. But besides that, they’re all, like, extremely ugly.”

the girl gone cray - posted, wip, 22.1k

“Who the fuck are you?”

She smiled to them, and it made their blood boil. "Who are you? That is the real question."

rock 'n' roll, baby! - posted, wip, 12.5k words

“Smiling at your phone like a loser again, Cas?” Regulus asked, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought we were over the lovesick teenager phase.”

all the sinners (sin again) - posted, wip, 1.6k

He had died during their war, which became almost like an old wives’ tale, something that spilled out of ex-warriors and people that lived through it after glasses of wine and something that grandparents and mothers and fathers told the children about, but it was something that seemed so far away to the little ones, they listened to the stories as if they were something entirely fictional, death and bloodshed being just stories of the past, that could never happen again because Voldemort had died.

people stared (at the make up on his face) - not posted, wip

"Thea, or Hea," The other man said absentmindedly, grabbing a Coca Cola from the fridge. "She doesn't care, call her whatever."

"Thea... short for? Theodora?"

"Shithead," Rudy grinned, closing the door with his foot.

The sky was of a light, dull grey, riddled with clouds, and the distant rumble of thunder predicted a storm. It was already raining, a soft pitter-patter that could've slipped unnoticed.

Everything was quiet. The Cave was empty. The last person that had been known to have gone there was Regulus Black, the heir of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, who had disappeared and never came back in 1979, four years before. The funeral had been bodiless; the heir hadn't been found.

They all said he's dead, which must have been true. After four years, no one could fathom the possibility of even seeing him again, let alone being alive. Something or someone must've dragged him away and killed him. Some said they might have been his own Lord's orders, for betrayal, or for lack of cold blood. But those were just unimportant details. He was bound to die either way, sooner or later. Hadn't it been for his poor mother, mad with grief and the need for vengeance for her only son, no one would have investigated one bit.

The thunder rumbled loudly that time, and lighting flashed somewhere in the distance. The atmosphere was filled with death.

Or the lack thereof.

Light panting. And there he was, standing in front of The Cave, Regulus Black, all bloody and slashed across his face, his clothes ripped apart, clutching Salazar Slytherin's locket like his life depended on it.