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sweet-s0rr0w · 2 years

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1 and 24 for the end of the year questions.

Happy New year, lovely 🥰✨💖🙌🤗

Gosh, Tai getting straight down to BUSINESS with these two!

1. Favourite fic you wrote this year

I have super conflicting feelings about this. I'm really self-critical, as anyone who knows me knows, and probably a year ago I'd have been tempted to reply that I didn't like any of them. But I'm growing, and I won't. Of course, I asked @tackytigerfic first, because they know my brain better than I do, and they say it has to be Nor All That Glisters (E, 111k). I'm inclined to agree, because it's a fucking NOVEL, and it was my first ever fic, and I wrote it off the cuff, and I like the pacing, and the plot, and my Draco, and my OC. But I still feel a bit conflicted because there are parts I'd do differently even now. Short fics are easier to love, because with longer ones you're always going to have less favourite parts, I think. Of my medium length fics I have the fondest feelings for Crash (Into Me), and very short I do love Dangerous.

24. Favourite fic you read this year

Look, I'll say up front that there's no way I can possibly choose one. BUT I've been humming and hawing about making some kind of end of year reclist, and I wasn't going to because a) I haven't read even a quarter of what I wanted to this year. (especially longfics, I've read barely even a handful), and b) I knew I'd leave out some fab ones and I didn't want to hurt people's feelings etc etc. There is obviously no objective 'best fics of 2021' list. But with that said, here's a little list of 2021 fics that I've thought of, right now, off the top of my head - fics that for one reason or another have stuck with me this year! If yours isn't in here, esp if I've raved about it, please know that it's my poor memory and nothing else <3

I have ranked these in my own personal order from your soft, fluffy, loving, makes-you-cry-with-affection type, through your angst with happy ending, right down to your OMG THE PAIN I WILL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN fics, so you can pick your poison <3

In a rambling way by @fw00shy (T, 7.6k, Yosemite, babies, toothbrushes, roadtrips and the stars)

Flooded by @vina-writes (G, 1.9k, medieval AU, floods, cottages, lambs, cows and tenderness)

Enjoy the Silence by @shealwaysreads (M, 3.4k, tattoos, mutism, softness, custard tarts and falling in love)

Limits of Earth and Sky by @jackvbriefs (E, 3.8k, extreme broomriding, fearlessness, curiosity, bakeries and getting together)

sex in trees for beginners by @phd-mama (E, 9.2k, eighth year, party games, anti-unicorns, losing virginity, humour, fuck-or-die-ish)

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters,@cambiodipolvere and @onlytheheartknows (M, 74k, Alaska, wands, Healers, wolves, fireworks, warmth and love)

Beneath the Wave by @moonflower-rose (M, 30k, domesticity, humour, cooking, giant rabbits, feverish love confessions and tent sex)

A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions by InnerLilith (E, 39k, gigs, mosh-pits, emo music, piercings, road-trips, roommates, obliviousness)

Contractually Obligated by @fluxweeed (T, 11k, humour, forced marriage (but make it sweet), dancing, hilarious wedding cakes, and don't forget the E rated sequel!)

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich (E, 24k, boxing, banking, fur kink, humour and fox animagi)

Two Starts, One Finish by @lqtraintracks (E, 5.4k, piano playing, getting together, the Knight Bus, the Floo, finding yourself)

Nothing Left to Burn by @skeptiquewrites (E, 5.1k, parties, old goodbyes, new hellos, getting back together, nose rings and a hopeful ending)

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic (E, 4.3k, Westminster Abbey, muggle-magical relations, the Elder Wand, Queen Elizabeth I, wartime)

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 17k, Ministry corruption, us against the world, flower codes, Legilimency, art and beauty)

Rules for Night Guards at Golden Locket Ent. by @joonkorre (G, 1.4k, rules, cryptids, mystery and horror)

Possessed by @shah-writes (T, 9.1k, possessed Draco, horror elements, magical theory, blood and gore and a happy ending)

A Grey Shrike Alighted upon my Wishbone by @opalesqueopioid (E, 6.9k, memory loss, Jobberknolls, jacuzzi sex and an ambiguous ending)

Free To A Good Home by @onbeinganangel (T, 1k, memories, love, friends and coping with grief)

Born to Drown by @floydig (M, 3.2k, drug abuse, break up, angst and memories)

#drarry #do you wish you hadn't asked tai #LOL #i can't resist a reclist #what can i say #all these fics are incredible #ss recs

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drarryspecificrecsdaily · 3 years

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2021.06.24

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. 10:47 am by @fw00shy [T, 2k]

►Scenes of lives lived out in front of an open balcony window.

2. Ill-Advised by @generic-captain-13 [T, 1k]

►The first sentence your soulmate says to you appears on your wrist. Harry's soulmate is a doctor, and he needs a doctor. No, literally; it's a medical emergency. [...]

3. slip through the cracks of my hand by @joonkorre [G, 5k]

►Draco gets an offer he can't deny. The second offer is different, though.

4. Sourdough by @academicdisaster24 [M, 17k]

►Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. Live to Remember, Remember to Live by @hbee [E, 19k]

►The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has just taken on a new case involving a dangerous experimental potion. Neuromagicologist and Potions Master Draco Malfoy is the one man in Britain who may be able to determine what it does and who’s brewing it. Harry Potter just feels lucky that he gets to tag along. ★ Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2021 #2021.06

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moonstruckwytch · 2 years

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★ tag 9 people you want to get to know better ★

back in january i was tagged by @academicdisasterfic, @geesenoises & @crazybutgood! seeing y'alls were very cool, and i love getting to play these games

★ favorite color: teal? turquoise? i have impeccable color vision and a horrendous time naming them. basically that gorgeous blue-green color of the ocean in the caribbean. most of the accents in my apartment are teal, and one of my friends recently asked if i had painted my laptop, because there's plastic trim that's "my" color, nope. it came that way, cause i'm lucky like that

★ currently reading: will my cat eat my eyeballs (and other questions about dead bodies) by caitlin doughty. i've read this one before but i'm reading it again for a long distance book club with my best friends. it's a series of questions from children about death, and caitlin's (a california-based mortician, death positive activist, and youtuber) answers to them. it's compassionate and funny, and informative, and i can't recommend it (and all her books enough). also chasing aphrodite: the hunt for looted antiques at the world's richest museum by jason felch & ralph frammolino. it's a great read about the looted objects in the getty museum, the unethical practices that put them there, and the unethical actors who tried to keep them there. i love museums and as someone who wants to work in collections and on repatriation, this is practically required reading. the stepford wives by ira levin. i LOVE horror and this is an iconic piece, so i'm excited to read it for the first time. aaaaaand finally to be like geese, by writ_and_romance on ao3. i'm only on chapter 4, and i haven't read a long fic in ages, but i found it while i was cleaning tabs on my phone, and bee recommended it to me, so i felt like i had to jump in. okay that's like so many things what on earth.

★ last song: why do i by set it off. i found out about set it off from one of my very best friends from high school one of the last times i saw him when we were both home from college. they're loud, they're fun, he runs marathons to them, i like to hula hoop dance to them, and they always make me think of him.

★ last series: i recently restarted the sookie stackhouse series by charlaine harris, because i was watching an ask a mortician video (caitlin doughty is simply everywhere in my life) about the new england vampire panic where she mentioned true blood, and i don't have hbo max so i decided to read the books again, and man are those books WEIRD. i've read the first two and decided i needed to take a break cause just, way too much happens to sookie. i was definitely too young to be reading them when i did the first time in like, early high school (also unaware i was ace, and the sex in those books is so poorly written that it's easy to miss) and it's an experience to read them as an adult.

★ sweet, savory or spicy: savory for sure. i buy sweet things like candy and then they sit in my pantry for months on end and don't get eaten for some reason, but i can eat an entire bag of shrimp chips in one sitting.

★ currently working on: uh, fangfest! which is so fun, but i'm also in a total writing slump so it feels a bit like pulling teeth even though i LOVE the story and that just feels, bad. so i'm supplementing that with work on some other non-writing projects, some crocheting, some cross stitching, and a travel cup that says "i want to believe" for my undying love for the x files and more specifically fox mulder. there's other writing stuff in the pipeline too, but i'm purposely not letting myself think about that.

this is so late so i'm sorry if i'm duplicating tags! @joonkorre, @orange-peony, @lou-isfake, @t4tdrarry, @isamijoo, @hogwartsfirebolt, @ronbinary, @sorrybutblog, @drarrymybeloved

#tag games #making friends on the internet #you'd think i have a lot of time to read based on this and i simply do not? sooooo we shall see #hopefully i finish all those things

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wheezykat · 3 years

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The Last Line Game ✨

Rules: Share your favorite closing lines from 10 of your stories (if you have less than 10 then list them all!). Feel free to skip any that might be too spoilery. Notice any patterns? Pick your #1 and tell us why you love it. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

thank you @elvenwinters and @graymatters for the tags 😘

This is such a fun concept! I loved looking at my first lines and trying to pinpoint some of my own style, so this should be interesting! These are all Drarry (ofc lol) and the majority are my microfics, because I have an appalling amount of WIPs/projects that aren’t published. Haha!

Without further ado:

1. this delicate balance (167w, M) - “He loves him, too.“

2. set myself on fire (868w, M) - ‘ “You wish.” ‘

3. we’ll find (you) hiding (427w, M) - ‘ “Terminal,” he whispers to the dark, hands sliding to cling at his lifeline.“

4. good gracious, you’re a heart attack (221w, G) - ‘ “She did it, Harry! She rode the horse just like Jack had suggested. Look at the photos!” ‘

5. some love was made for the lights (769w, T) - ‘ “I’ve always known it was you, Harry. I was just waiting for you to catch up.” ‘

6. sinking ship (WIP, 4.2kw, M) - “Through the sliver still visible as the door slowly swung to a close, he barely caught the faint flicker of surprise on Malfoy’s face before he relaxed, edges softening imperceptibly.“

7. devil like me (712w, T) - “Harry Potter is made of fucking miracles.“

8. silent waters run deep (310w, NR) - “A lit match, sparking cinders to a blaze.”

9. underneath your teeth, it feels just like home (470w, M) - “He had discounted the wedding band that had been placed on the bedside table, quietly slipped back onto Draco’s hand as he left in the grey light of dawn.“

10. when scars become art (245w, T) - ‘ “I know.” ‘

I’m actually surprised when I sit down and look back at these - apparently I love to end on a short bit of snappy dialogue, which I didn’t realize I did so often. 😂 I might need to try and switch it up in my next few pieces! Endings are hard, man.

As far as favorites go, I’m not entirely sure I have one. I can tell you definitively that I loathe #9. I spent a ridiculous amount of time when writing it trying to fix it and make it sound better, but had a hard time putting concept to words at the time. I guess #5 is one that I kind of like; that was the bit of dialogue that inspired me to write it, so I was quite pleased I was able to sneak it in at the end.

Tagging some peeps, who may or may not have already been tagged, because I’m jumping in at the end! So no pressure 💕 @3-of-spades @joonkorre @orange-peony @lucienne-archive @colormehazelnut and anyone else who wants to join! tag me so I can come creep on all your pretty words 😈😈

#last line game

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joonkorre · 2 years

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aight here we go

@drarrymicrofic prompt: alpha

it’s been a hot minute since i’ve uploaded any original drarry work lmao. AO3

tw // blood, gore

“This wasn’t in the handbook.”

“There was no handbook,” Pansy says. “It just is.”

“What just is?”

“The thing,” she says again. “The thing that wasn’t in the handbook. It’s just how it is.”

“Well,” Draco says. “Alright, fuck.”

“Y’know, one would think it’s adulthood and not vampirism that dulls you both,” Blaise slathers pâté on his tongue like an animal. “You were way more fun back in Hogwarts.”

“We were way more fun before you dragged us into this shit,” Draco would throw the water from his goblet at Blaise to further emphasize his annoyance like those Asian dramas Pansy watches to “reconnect with her roots,” but the water is in fact blood and Blaise would be overjoyed. “A cult, really?”

“You were dedicated, though.”

“Yeah,” Pansy grabs the same knife Blaise used and cuts her very rare steak (so rare, Draco’s tempted to simply call it beef), and Draco wonders when it was that he stopped caring about being disgusted at the act, “you truly believed in it. We all did.”

“I was brainwashed.”

“Into unlocking your hidden vampire powers?”

“Jesus Christ,” Draco quite likes Muggle sayings just as much as he likes their blood. “Don’t say it like that.”

“How else am I supposed to say it, that you were dedicated to the point where you ended up actually cultivating enough power to become the Alpha?” Pansy stabs the cubes of beef with Blaise’s knife and tosses them into her mouth. “Gaining so much respect that our Alpha at the time planned your coronation herself?”

“The menu, too. Everybody loved the roasted garlic chicken,” Blaise says.

“Numbed our throats as good as Sichuan pepper. The adrenaline rush was inconceivable, Alfred didn’t climb off the chandelier for two days.”

“What wasn’t in the handbook, again?” Blaise smacks his lips. “My apologies, I was lost in the memories of your coronation banquet in order to cope with this shoddy meal.”

“I gut a cow for this shoddy meal,” Draco says. “In the middle of a field, naked as a newborn, because it’s like being in an oven out there. That’s never happened before.”

“And that’s why he was grieving over the nonexistence of a proper ‘Being the Youngest Alpha in History: A Guide’ handbook before you Apparated over,” Pansy reaches across the table to pat Draco’s hand.

“There’s no reason why there shouldn’t be one, even convenience stores have handbooks for new employees. Siya told me,” Draco says.

Blaise glances at him. “The same Siya who’s the runaway heiress? She thinks it’s below her station to eat fish and chips, what does she know about convenience stores?”

“What do you know about convenience stores?” Draco says.

“She’s a smart girl, she knows,” Pansy plucks a petal off of a rotted rose and swallows it whole.

“You only say that because you think she’s still hot despite the infidelity.”

Whenever Blaise reminds Pansy that Siya has cheated on her with three people at the same time, she pretends like she thinks that isn’t hot as well and Merlin, does it get old. Thus, Draco makes the executive decision to remove himself from the table. Shutting the door to the ballroom behind him, he then Apparates to a field. The same field he gutted a cow in. The carcass is still there.

Along with the heat.

“Merlin,” Draco mutters, the pungent smell of decay skewering his nose. “Just smite me on the spot, fuck.”

The thing about rotten meat is that once one has smelled it, one won’t ever forget it. Steaming in the blinding sun, a sickly, putrid sweetness overshadows copper and rust. Fat, black flies dot the bones and strings of meat, exploding in waves when Draco steps closer only to gather once again. They buzz like it’s their last day, like they’re born to drill nails into Draco’s skull. If it’s not for the heat, the sound and smell (and sight, too, what a mess) alone are enough to grill him alive.

And that’s the thing: the heat. Madam Torres was notoriously unhelpful even when she was the Alpha and Draco is a fool to think that she’s any less unhelpful now.

“Ma’am, I’m sure I’m not the Alpha,” Draco’s said the last time he met Madam Torres before she fucked off to some obscure mountain in the North. “I don’t feel any different than before.”

“Oh, child, you’ll feel different soon enough,” Madam Torres’s said, swinging her legs as she lounges on a chair double her size. When Blaise first brought Pansy to her, he knew to slap a hand over her mouth before she could ask whose child this was.

“When is ‘soon enough,’ ma’am?”

“Have you felt hot yet?” Madam Torres’s tongue has poked at her overgrown canines, which looked quite strange on either side of her bunny teeth.

“No, ma’am.”

“Soon enough,” Madam Torres’s nodded, then sent Draco sliding out of her office.

He certainly feels hot now.

Revolution and natural selection have given vampires the ability to not die every time they go within a five meter radius of a fire. Other than garlic, crosses have become something akin to a cheap thrill due to the ancestors pushing their limit of tolerance, one suicidal vampire at a time. These days, when one asks a normal person if they know who’s the vampire in the room, they’re not pointing to the hipster sporting a healthy tan and munching on garlic bread. Widespread propaganda does have its perks.

Due to the fact that vampires are harder to kill than cockroaches, there’s more time for the community to accumulate wealth and permeate all fronts of typical human society. Thus, non-vampires tend to turn a blind eye to mysterious depletions of blood bags and increases in red meat consumption in favor of hefty funds and donations. Throw on Glamour charms, copy the fictional off-brand vampire clan and move places every so often, and even vampires will forget that they’re not humans.

When one is chosen by the fates to be the Alpha of a vampire cult (“coven” is so New Age), however, they seem to revert back to the primate equivalence of homo sapiens. Exhibit A: Draco Malfoy, dying from the heat, which isn’t even that hot in the first place. Sautéing garlic feels like inhaling Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes’s fireworks and stepping into a cathedral becomes an extreme sport. Yes, indeed, Draco Malfoy is having great fun cleaning up a cow he murdered in cold blood in the middle of Beelzebub’s ballsack just to feed his friends, who have the most particular tastes in beef he has ever seen.

Regardless, it’s a worthy price to pay for all the powers and privileges one gains from being an Alpha. Draco simply needs some time to, ah, not want to stake his own heart every time he steps outside.

He pulls out his wand from the thigh holster. Pulling off the frills around his sleeves, Draco pauses, then tears his whole shirt off. The buttons keep slipping from his sweaty palms and if he continues trying to work at them, then he’d be fried before he gets to the third one. He rubs the torn shirt across his lobster-red chest in half-hearted swipes before pressing the damp fabric against his nose.

When the only crimson left behind is the stained grass and soil beneath the carcass, Draco’s fingers lengthen into talons. Barely plucking up the uneaten flesh left behind, his gaze snaps up. Something new has leaked into the air. Mint. Aftershave. Some goddamn delicious blood streaming through pulsing veins.

Magic.

Draco swivels around. The old man stands next to a bush, armed with nothing but a shovel and a straw hat. His wrinkled stare is too calm for the sight he’s seeing. Draco narrows his eyes.

Lightning. Around the man, pure energy crackles and burns. When Draco notices the familiar haziness clouding the old man’s face, he straightens. He rolls his neck, rumpling his shirt into a ball and shooting one last spell at the mess before him. The organs disappear and leave only skin and bones to work with. He’ll deal with the bones later.

Draco raises his gaze. The man doesn’t seem any more perturbed than before; in fact, his posture is slack as he leans his hand on the shovel, which he’s dug into a crack in the ground.

As if knowing that Draco is waiting for him to speak, the old man huffs out a breath.

“What are you doing?” His croaky voice matches his appearance perfectly.

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” The old man raises his brows. Draco’s eyes slide shut so he can roll them without seeming impolite. “Sir.”

“You’re on my land. You killed my cow. It’d be a cold day in Hell when it’s not any of my business.”

“Oh.”

The old man squints at Draco, then blinks like there’s dirt in his eyes.

“You surprised?”

“I, well,” Draco looks around the area. Hilltops, thin trees, dried-out shrubs, the unforgiving sun, and absolutely no sign of civilization in sight. “I simply saw this cow on an empty field. I didn’t see a house for miles, so… Hm, I thought it’s a wild cow. My sincere apologies.”

“You’ve never seen a cow in your life,” the old man says.

“What—fucking pardon,” Draco says. “I absolutely have. I saw this cow, then I killed it.”

“What kind of wild cow is this small? Jesus, you’ve never seen a goddamn cow in your life.”

“Well, fuck,” Draco flicks his wand. “My sincerest apologies. Is there anything else?”

The old man mutters something that makes his mustache twitch. He clears his throat. “Maybe tell me why you have to kill my cow, on my land, specifically?”

“I don’t know,” Draco says. “Perhaps I have a personal vendetta against you and have a thirst to destroy everything you love, or perhaps I only wanted to kill a cow and this thing was the first one I saw. Funnily enough, it’s the latter.”

He abandons the carcass, wiping sweat from his chest again with the shirt before tossing it aside. His steps drudge like the harsh sunlight is a tangible weight on his feet, vision still littered with black dots and bleached white, talons curving in. Draco knows he looks a tad feral, but oddly enough, he doesn’t care. Oncoming signs of a fainting spell, perhaps, and if so, he’s blameless.

The old man doesn’t move. Under the brim of his hat, however, his squinted eyes sweep up and down Draco’s figure like he’s eyeing a plot of land.

“I say, you’re awfully calm for someone who had to see my earlier display,” Draco stops at a distance where the shovel wouldn’t reach if the old man manages to swing it at him with those liver-spotted arms. But he has a feeling the old man has full ability to do. “Must’ve witnessed a lot in your life, living for this long.”

“Eh, guess so,” the old man says, shrugging. His eyes remain on Draco. “You’d know.”

Draco snorts. “Observant. So we’re both aware of the situation we’re in. Shouldn’t you, maybe, throw up a Shield charm and run back to your family?” his head tilts. “It won’t be all that difficult for you to join that beloved pet of yours.”

The old man swats a fly away, making no move to pull out the wand Draco knows he has.

“I got no family waiting,” he says. The far-off look that usually accompanies this sort of confession doesn’t appear. Instead, the old man speaks as if he’s discussing an unmemorable car crash on the news. “Left me all alone with this farm. Are you gonna compensate for my dead cow or not?”

It’d be quick. So quick, the old man wouldn’t even realize Draco’s hand is around his throat until his neck twists. There’s no one to remember him. Even with acres of land, he’s a puny little human whose death wouldn’t make a dent in the ecosystem. The opportunity is there, and Draco can take it if he wants. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he Conjures himself an umbrella and Vanishes what remains of the cow. He'd give himself a shirt too if his skin isn't so sensitive at the moment, and for now, he disregards all thoughts of how he looks too mental to deserve his title of the Alpha, the apex predator. The old man and the parched isolation of this endless farm don't give a damn.

"Lead the way, stranger," Draco takes a step forward, already feeling better under the shade. The old man turns, lugging his body in the direction he came from, shovel over a shoulder. "You'll have to get rid of that Disillusionment charm though. I'd rather have peace talks with the actual person, ugly or not."

The old man sighs, annoyed. And when those heavy shoulders straighten and that curved back lengthens, capable muscles filling up the stained flannel and steps turning into strides, Draco takes a deep breath. Just once more.

Ah. Draco can recognize this scent anywhere.

His scent.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry microfic #prompt: alpha #vampire #vampire draco malfoy #master of death harry #the vibe here is #two immortals who should've died long ago #one with only his friends left and the other with only his cows left #there's something poetic there maybe #perhaps not the best setting for a gothic romance #joonkorre writes

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joonkorre · 2 years

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catch your breath

@drarrymicrofic prompt: dare

bit of an au in this one. harry’s scar has always fascinated me, so enjoy. AO3

Draco knows it’s below him to act like this. Not just using his bare hands to get shit done like a muggle, but also where his hands are touching. It’s low. It’s classless, but crude is a better descriptor.

He can’t help it. The scar is right there, right in front of his eyes.

After a Gryffindor-Slytherin tie that the war-beaten players on either team were too tired to do anything about, Potter's cornered Draco in the empty locker room. Lost his saintly temper as always, but not quite, because they’ve never fought in there before. There’s something about the vulnerability connoting this cramped space that keeps them from even acknowledging each other whenever they leave at the same time, wet hair dripping down their napes. Fights are for hallways and trains and grassy fields. Not bathrooms. Not locker rooms.

But the first limitation has already been breached. Perhaps it’s better to check off the second as well. Get it over with.

The point is, Draco’s out of his depth.

Potter doesn’t say anything. But he does the simple act of pushing Draco into the locker that the latter just opened. Draco’s head slams against the frame, any harder and his skull would probably crack down the middle, and before he can get his sluggish legs to straighten, blinding pain knocks him sideways. His jaw aches. He can’t even think of a smart retort when Potter approaches his slumped form, one unmarked arm hanging onto the bench. Potter doesn’t kick him like he should. Chivalry means not kicking a man while he’s down, maybe. So Potter gets down to Draco’s level instead, holding himself up with a knee, steel fists doing all the work. It’d be a glorious sight from a bystander’s standpoint.

But Draco’s no bystander. He can barely open his eyes. He hasn’t even taken his shower yet, just sat there on the bench while his teammates made no attempt at pretending he was in the same room. But months of living with the Dark Lord and his goons had to be good for something because a white, crackling spark finally surges in Draco. It moves his arms, puts some power into them, and his face is saved long enough for him to gasp in a breath. His elbow moves in an arc and connects, hitting cheekbone. That certainly changes things.

Draco is no judge in petty scuffles, but Potter brawls with no finesse. He’s not even focused on his opponent, only fights for fighting’s sake, because he sags a bit as if Draco’s elbow is a sword through his stomach. But Draco has no time to dwell on it. He grabs the thigh paddings lying under the bench, swinging them hard against the side of Potter’s face. They’re light but sturdy, and it’s Potter’s turn to slam against the lockers.

It shouldn’t be that easy to turn the tides on the Man Who Lived and wrestle him down. Draco doesn’t know how he did it, only that he did, and now his legs are swung over Potter’s chest, too numb with pinpricks for the situation. Potter’s fervor has returned tenfold. His punches keep on coming, and Draco’s simply not proficient enough to dodge even half of them. In the blur, Draco sees one thing. And he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Knocking Potter’s arms away, Draco wrenches his hands down and grips Potter’s shoulders tight. He rises up on his knees a bit to leave some space, then lifts Potter up an inch as well by those shoulders. He slams them down and Potter’s head bludgeons against the floor. Potter doesn’t fucking give up, though, as he keeps trying to punch Draco even after the shock slows his movement. Draco does it again, and again. It feels confrontational, even more than what they’re doing right now if that makes a single lick of sense. It feels like a “Get your shit together” kind of act. Draco doesn’t know if he has the right to do that to Potter.

So he does something else. And he shouldn’t. It doesn’t alleviate the odd twinge of shame at all. He shouldn’t.

But he goes and clamps his hands around Potter’s throat. That ought to shut him up, but Potter hasn’t said a word throughout the entire ordeal. He freezes and stares at Draco. His glasses have been knocked aside, abandoned within arm’s reach.

Draco can feel the branch-like line embossed beneath his palm. It pulses like it’s as much a vein as the others in Potter’s body. And that, that’s exactly why Draco should’ve never done this. His hands relax a little at the reminder, though not enough to release Potter and barely improve anything.

He remembers every time Potter chokes up in the middle of conversations, sitting across the Great Hall. The memory of that skinny little boy vomiting into his plate while Quirrel walked past made the worst impression, and Potter’s hand always rises to scratch at his throat whenever he’s agitated. Draco often wonders if the scar would get too much to bear, so infected with bitter, rotten Darkness that it’d rip itself and tear Potter’s throat apart.

Do you dare?

Potter’s eyes are bright green with accusation. Draco can’t help but feel better about it. There was none of that signature ire and righteousness earlier, only a blank, charcoal look that made Potter look dead. Draco’s already seen that expression once; it seemed wrong then, and it seems wrong now. Draco tightens his grip. He hasn’t truly been holding Potter’s throat, more like hovering around, but at this point, he can keenly feel the tendons beneath sweaty brown skin. The scar seems to vibrate, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he finds a line imprinted on his palm later that night.

Potter doesn’t try to fight back anymore. However, his hands reach up to clasp Draco’s forearm just below the elbows. His hold isn’t loose, but it isn’t much else either. Doesn’t wrench Draco’s arms away or pull them and spite him into finishing the job. A mere hold. The hot showers Draco’s teammates have taken leave their remnants, steaming up the locker room. He blinks, and it’s as if the warm, humid air has soaked into him, deep within his bones. Beneath his palms, Potter’s Adam’s apple jumps every time he breathes.

Draco shouldn’t.

He moves his hands away. Potter, for some reason, doesn’t snatch the opportunity to continue the fight, arms falling to lie bent on either side of his head. Draco wishes he’d just stop staring. He has no new ploy to offer Potter. He’s exhausted. There’s something buzzing under his skin, but he can’t deal with it now. Won’t.

Leaning to the side, he dryly hopes Potter doesn’t mind having to face Draco’s grimey torso for a second before resuming his position, glasses in hand. He casts a quick glance at the pair. New, they seem like, with silver wire frames and not so comically circular anymore. A slight smudge resides on a lens, successfully ruining the whole look.

Draco doesn’t know why. It might be that guilty feeling he often gets after the war again because he murmurs a wandless Cleaning charm at it. Then he moves the temples out fully and holds the glasses by their hinges, turning them toward Potter. Well, at least the man no longer stares so damn hard. His eyes lazily follow Draco’s movement, even closing a bit when Draco slides the glasses into place. It’s obvious. The match and what follows afterward have finally drained him.

Why did Draco do that?

He doesn’t fucking know. But perhaps it’d appear to be an apology for the blind anger he’s caused Potter to feel. That’s a good reason, yes.

When he stands up and lifts his foot over Potter’s chest, walking all the way around to grab his bag and reach the door, Draco doesn’t turn his head once. He knows Potter is still sitting on the floor, watching him go with those new glasses and that red welt around Potter’s neck. That’s fine. He’ll shower in the dorms.

Shutting the door behind him, Draco’s hand burns. He spreads his fingers then clenches them, does it a few more times. By the time he reaches the front of the Slytherin dorm entrance, the burn hasn’t lessened one bit.

Do you dare?

#drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #8th year #au #harry's scar placement is just very interesting to me #i haven't thought of all the implications that come with having his scar there #but i'm just dipping my toes #see how it goes #also i just want to write a choking situation #is this my first 8th year fic actually?#haha nice #joonkorre writes

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drarrymicrofic · 6 months

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Happy Author's Day, Microficcers! 📚

Our first prompt of November is Indulge, sent in by @joonkorre!

Happy Writing, The Mods 📜✨

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry squad #hpdm #Draco and Harry #Harry and Draco #Draco x Harry #Harry x Draco #Draco/Harry #November 2023 Prompts #Harry/Draco #Prompts

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drarrymicrofic · 7 months

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Happy Boyfriend Day! 👬

We start this month off strong with the song “Mama’s Gun” by Glass Animals! It was sent to us by the lovely @joonkorre. Thank you!

Listen | Lyrics

Happy writing! The Microfic Mods ✨📜

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #october 2023 #october 2023 prompts #song: mama’s gun #glass animals

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drarrymicrofic · 4 months

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Happy Cookie Exchange Day 🍪!

Thanks, @joonkorre, for sending in the prompt Blue Christmas by Elvis Presely!

Listen | Lyrics

Happy Writing! The Microfic Mods 📜✨

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drarrymicrofic · 5 months

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Happy Stuffing Day (we'll let you decide if you're celebrating a food item or an activity 😉)!

The prompt for today is the song One of your Girls by Troye Sivan, which came to us from @joonkorre!

Listen | Lyrics

Happy writing! Microfic Mods 📜✨

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drarrymicrofic · 8 months

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Happy Video Games Day!! 🎮

Today’s prompt is the song “Devil’s Advocate” by The Neighbourhood sent to us by the lovely @joonkorre. Thank you so much :)) Let’s play some games today, shall we?

Listen | Lyrics

Happy writing!! The Microfic Mods 📜✨

#drarry #drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #september 2023 #september 2023 prompts #song: devil’s advocate #the neighbourhood

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drarrymicrofic · 10 months

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Happy Alice in Wonderland Day 🐇

Today's prompt, from the lovely @joonkorre, is Stereotype!

Happy writing! The Microfic Mods 📜✨

#drarry microfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry fic #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #drarry squad #hpdm #Draco and Harry #Harry and Draco #Draco x Harry #Harry x Draco #Draco/Harry #Harry/Draco #Prompts #July 2023 Prompts

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drarrymicrofic · 11 months

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Happy World Green Roof Day 🌳🌱

Today’s prompt is the word zenith. It was send to us by the lovely @joonkorre!! Thank you so much!! :))

Meaning of zenith according to the Cambridge Dictionary: “The best or most successful point in time.” or “The point in the sky right above you.”

Happy writing! The Microfic Mods ✨📜

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #june 2023 #june 2023 prompts #zenith

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drarrymicrofic · 1 year

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Happy World Wildlife Day 🐰🌳

To start the first weekend of March we have the amazing song Genghis Khan by Miike Snow sent to us by the lovely @joonkorre. And, a little tip for when you write about this prompt: go watch the music video of this song. You won’t regret it. AND! It might even inspire you ;))

Listen/watch | Lyrics

Happy writing! The Microfic Mods 📜✨

#drarry #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #Genghis khan #miike snow #march 2023 #march 2023 prompts

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joonkorre · 3 years

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How to Love Another Person

@drarrymicrofic prompt: technique

another microfic with a list?? oh the horror. ao3

A tail feather of a cedar waxwing, grind to bits. Add in when the solution has reduced to half.

Stir until the first hints of purple show, then lower the fire level by hand.

Combine with a bit of you, your dearest memory. Allow it to dissipate.

3 dried petals of waterlily tulips added every 3 minutes. The solution will weep into a rolling boil.

Don’t cry.

Control yourself. Check the Silencing charm.

Continue.

10 ml of distilled water. Vanish the yellow fumes as you stir.

Mix in diced ginger root and a tablespoon of honey for flavor. Make it pleasant for him.

Let it simmer. For the next 15 minutes, clean up everything. Take a quick shower, wash away the stench of potions from your body. Wear the clothes from your bag.

Turn off the fire. Make a single cup of tea.

Don’t speed up the solution’s cooling process in order to ensure effectiveness. Once it’s room temperature, add a teaspoon of it to the cup of tea. No more, no less.

It is 3 in the morning. The world is deep in slumber, and he is no exception. Wake him up anyway.

“Hmm,” Harry murmurs into his pillow, “Draco?”

“Darling, hello,” Draco whispers against his forehead, kissing away the crease between thick brows. “I have something for you.”

Harry’s hand searches the nightstand for his glasses, almost swiping all the takeout menus and little trinkets to the floor. Draco finds the glasses first, unfolds them, and places them on Harry’s nose, careful not to poke his eyes.

“Hmm, what, what’s going on?” Harry rubs his eyes as he sits up.

Draco presents him with the freshly-brewed cup of tea. Chamomile, a dash of sugar. His favorite.

“Drink, darling.”

“What? No,” Harry pushes the tea away, his lovely eyes made clearer and clearer by the lamplight, “Draco, I’m not drinking that.”

Draco shakes his head.

“You have to.”

Harry keeps pushing the cup from his face, and Draco is getting impatient.

“Draco, stop—”

“Drink it.”

“Come on, don’t do this—”

“Please, darling, just a sip will do—”

“I said no!”

Harry bats the teacup from Draco’s hand. It flies across the room, shatters, drenching the wallpaper. The broken shards are millimeters away from impaling a framed picture. Their framed picture.

Draco can’t stop his hands from shaking. He moves to gather up the pieces, to somehow salvage the tea, but Harry grabs ahold of his forearm, keeping him in place.

There is not a sliver of sound in their bedroom but Harry’s harsh breathing.

“Why?” Draco asks, staring at the stain on the wall.

“Is this why there’s a duffle bag below the stairs,” Harry says instead. Draco can feel his gaze on him. He can’t look.

“Yes.”

“Is that where your toothbrush is? You didn’t just throw it away since it's after 6 months like you said. You packed it.”

A shivery sigh. “Yes.”

He hears a sob. One hand on his forearm turns to two, and Harry pulls him close. He rests his head against Draco’s stomach. Usually, Draco would sift his fingers through that unruly mane of his, chiding Harry for buying conditioners unsuitable for his hair type. Now, he has no right to do such a thing. His hands stay by his sides, unworthy.

Harry clutches him more tightly by the second, burrowing his head into the soft wool of Draco’s sweater. Another sob.

“When will you accept that I’m not drugged?” Harry says.

It’s the Amortentia talking, Draco knows. He’s known from the start, for it’s impossible for Harry to be right of mind when he confessed to Draco all those years ago. He’s accepted it for his own sake, just wanting an excuse to bask in the love he’s desired for nearly a decade. And it’s been good, so, so good.

“I love you, do you know? You have to,” Harry lifts his head up and stares at Draco. His face is much too beautiful to be twisted like that. Like he’s heartbroken. “Baby, I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I don't usually say things like this, but you know me better than I know myself. I thought you knew, I really did. I thought after all we’ve been through… we’re it, you know? You’re it for me. You’re the kind of love that doesn’t need words. I thought you knew, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

But things that are too good to be true, are. Admittedly, waking someone up in the middle of the night to make them drink tea isn’t the best plan, but Draco is tired of the charade. He knows Harry, the portion of his subconscious that is still awake and aware, is tired, too. He has to give his darling an out so he can move on in peace. Perhaps it’s a pipe dream and Draco can never move on, but at least he can love Harry by himself. He needs to.

“Draco Malfoy, I love you, you hear? I love you,” Harry’s hands move from Draco’s waist to cup his face. His thumbs are soft as they rub Draco’s cheeks, almost as if they mean it. “Say it back, baby, I know you feel the same. Say it back.”

Draco raises a palm, hesitant, and places it on Harry’s cheek in return.

“I love you, Harry Potter,” Draco says.

Harry gives a teary smile and leans against Draco’s touch, glasses knocking on his finger. His eyes are a sweet shade of green, bright and glistening.

“Let’s go to sleep, okay?”

“Alright.”

It truly is alright. In the kitchen cabinet, behind cartons of tea leaves and bags of coffee grounds that Harry never sorts through, is the remaining batch of the antidote. Tomorrow is Draco’s turn to make breakfast. He won’t make the same mistake again, and Harry will be free.

He’ll make sure of it.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #amortentia #this is inspired by another fic i saw on here but i just cant remember its name #if you know that fic please tell me #i've always thought if there's an insecure person in drarry's relationship it'd be draco #harry would also be kinda shit at affirming his bf of his feelings so it fits i think #logical techniques vs paranoid obsession? it's more likely than you think #joonkorre writes

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