#glittering writes

[glittering-git]

warmth - a drarrymicrofic

warm (adj.)

1. A fairly high temperature. 2. Not cold. 3. An evening spent curled up by the fire. 4. An early summer’s day. It's 2 A.M. and the stars are out—I’m warm in your embrace. [see also HEAT; COMFORT; PROTECTION. see SUNSHINE; BRIGHTNESS. see WHEREVER I AM WITH YOU.]

[glittering-git]

Lick It and See

slides in after not writing drarry for ages with whatever this is 😳 written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: first time. thanks @uphorie for the support ❤️

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go right ahead.”

“Lick it? With my tongue?”

“Yeah, you’ll like it. I promise.”

“It doesn’t feel proper.”

“It’s not supposed to be proper—it’s supposed to be fun.”

“People are watching.”

“Just lick the damn ice cream cone, Draco.”

I do, and Merlin is it good.

[glittering-git]

bright recursions

warnings: MCD; thanks so much to @the-starryknight for the beta and cheerleading, and to @slytherco , @legendrarry, and @porcelainsalt for modding <3

Harry Potter died on a slow Tuesday morning.

~~~

Harry Potter died the way he lived: brightly.

~~~

You do not die on a slow Tuesday morning. You live long, much to your dismay. 

~~~

You want to die, though, soon after you learn that Harry Potter has. You’ve never thought about a world without Harry Potter in it. 

~~~

It is a dark world—a world without its champion. You no longer want to seek out the small, simple pleasures, instead content to let the dark world consume you. It doesn’t matter, anyhow, because Harry Potter died on a Tuesday. 

~~~

The first time you take the potion is a year after the Tuesday that Harry Potter died. You can’t be stuck in your own memories, not today.

The past has become more real than the present, your memories not a comfort but the only place where you feel the sharp thrill of being alive—the tingle in your body telling you that living is good. 

~~~

The second time you take the potion is a month after the first. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it—the weight of living in a world where Harry Potter has died is too much to bear, dark and cold.

The first sip of the potion hits your tongue, sharp and bitter. It reminds you of the time that you had your first Negroni with your soon-to-be husband, but you don’t want to remember that, so you gulp the rest of the potion down. 

The effects are immediate—your mind calm and peaceful—the world much brighter because Harry Potter never died on a Tuesday. 

~~~

The third time you take the potion is only a week after the second. The fourth, only three days after. By the sixth, you’re taking it every day.

You wake and remember that Harry Potter died on a Tuesday. But you have a solution to this: a clear, bitter potion. You take it immediately, once more lost in a bright world where Harry Potter fills every corner.

The potion isn’t about forgetting, but rather, about remembering how good it felt to live in a world with Harry Potter. You remember his soft smile, the hint of promise in the way his lips moved on yours. You remember the small moments—every intricate detail etched into your mind.

You wake and Harry Potter is alive. He caresses your cheek. 

“Darling, it’s time.”

READ on AO3

[glittering-git]

crashing a party - a drarry microfic

written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: crashing a party

“I’m not going in there. We weren’t invited.”

“Oh, come off it, you berk. It’s a Halloween party thrown by the Gryffindors—paragon saints of inter-house unity—I’m sure they won’t mind.” 

“That’s for classes, not for seeing them wearing, well...this.” 

“Potter will be eating his little heart out—don’t you worry.”

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[glittering-git]

PRESENT - a drarry microfic

What do you get your boyfriend when he’s the all-powerful Master of Death? 

Draco contemplates this as he sips his coffee, watching Harry move about the kitchen. 

He thinks about it at work, and his boss scolds him half-heartedly. 

He ponders while they’re fucking—Harry balls-deep in him—and he really shouldn’t be able to think about anything else, but this is important, goddammit. 

He considers getting him a ring, but shakes his head at the thought. Too cheesy. They both know this is forever. 

He stops. Forever, yes, but their forevers aren’t the same. 

Maybe he can let Harry change that.

[glittering-git]

Happy Valentine’s Day, y’all! Here’s some loving cannibalism 💖

This was written for the @hpdarkarts My Bloody Valentine—thank you @writcraft for hosting this wonderfully dark fest! This one took a team to put together, so thank you to @lower-east-side, @uphorie, and @floydig for the beta! Also tagging @tackytigerfic! (tw: implied cannibalism, Catholic references, I wouldn’t read if you’re devout)

You want something more. You need something real, something that won’t be lost between one breath and the next.

Read it below or on [AO3]

“This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”

1 Corinthians 11:24

1. You know it is not enough.

2. You know it will never be enough, not even if you both lived until you were as old as time itself. He tells you he loves you—whispers it in your ear while he’s waiting for the coffee to brew; announces it to the world at your wedding; screams it when you’re balls deep and he’s on the brink of coming. 

3. You don’t doubt he means it—those three words filling the space between you like the first fresh blooms of spring. It’s as easy as breathing—an inhale, an exhale, an “I love you” from spit-slick lips.  

4. You want something more. You need something real, something that won’t be lost between one breath and the next. 

5. You’ve tried leaving marks—a sharp bite on the patch of skin above a golden hipbone, the blossoming of berry bruises on wrists rough from restraints—but they’re temporary, fleeting. There one day—gone the next. 

6. You find the spell buried in an old dusty tome in the Manor, forgotten on a shelf covered in cobwebs. It’s an answer to a prayer you weren’t consciously asking, and if you were religious, you might feel indebted. Instead, you only feel exuberant—you can give him more than just words, a piece of your very essence. 

Transsubstantiatio. 

7. You don’t tell him. He wouldn’t understand this need of yours for a physical manifestation of your love. It’s comforting, though, to know that if he were to die tomorrow, he’d carry some piece of you to his grave.

You often cook dinner, so it’s easy to prepare. You serve a hearty meal of beef stew and bread, accompanied by large glasses of the boldest red you could find. You’ve practised the spell, so when he takes his first sip, it’s already transforming into something more. You watch avidly, but he makes no comment, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You didn’t want to use an Obliviate, but you would’ve. 

8. You don’t have to use an Obliviate the next time, or the time after that, and soon, you’re no longer worried you’ll be discovered. You cast the spell each day, heartened to know you don’t need to rely on those three words that could easily be lost to the wind or bad hearing. 

Your love for him transcends language—it goes beyond the mundane and enters the realm of the divine. You’re not religious, but you understand this desire to consummate a relationship with blood and flesh. 

9. You know nothing will ever be enough to show your devotion to him—your life, your love, your saviour—but this comes close. The soft animal of your mind has quieted knowing he walks around with a part of your very core, oblivious to it all.

10. You love him, and he loves you, but what you share is more than mere words: 

      you are a part of him—

            body, breath, and soul.

[glittering-git]

guest - a drarry microfic

written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt: guest 

I knock. You open the door. I smile broadly, a hint of fang. Your cheeks turn red; you splutter. Let me in, I ask. You shake your head stubbornly. If I were going to hurt you, I’d have done it already, I reassure. You don’t look reassured. Please, I entreat, I’ll be on my best behaviour. You sigh and look down at the space between us—the space I can’t cross unless you invite me in. We had such a good time—the other night, I remind. Your cheeks turn redder, and your eyes meet mine—I know you’ve made up your mind. 

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[glittering-git]

COSY - drarry microfic

my first @drarrymicrofic, for the prompt cosy! hope you enjoy :)

You’re warm, snuggled up in the cosiest of blankets. A gentle hand runs from the tips of your pointy ears to your tail—your chest rumbles in pleasure. You arch your back, asking for more pets. 

The man laughs softly. “You’re such a glutton for cuddles, Potter.” 

You only purr louder.