handsomer & handsomer still

"It's just a summer fling," Draco had told Pansy in June, but in January the weather turned a handsome silver and Harry handsomer still, his silhouette cutting across Draco's bedroom walls like an omen, a prophecy, except good. Wanted. Draco'd forgotten the word for the anticipation of good things, things that didn't rot or sour over time. His parents married for love but had long slept in separate bedrooms, and Draco never slept in another man's bed long enough to fall asleep; not before Harry, who was the exception of all exceptions in Draco's unexceptional life.

"The light is beautiful when it shines on you," Draco said when the sun dusted gold over Harry's dark lashes. Harry replied with something not funny enough to retell, and yet Draco couldn't stop laughing until Harry joined in too, and off they fell, down the rabbit hole into that weightless, belly-flipping kind of love.

😭 I have no words

Old habits die hard

“He was never gone…”

life-death-doughnuts’s comment to the original post inspired me, so I quickly added a second screenshot/panel/part/thinghie.

You’re welcome. ;3

The original post can be found here:

Coffeeshop AU! Where Draco is super celebrity and barista Harry 🧋✨

Cozy fall walks! 🍂

Day 151: Glasses

Draco hadn't seen Harry outside of work all week.

He was trying to keep calm about it, trying not to let his mind wander and spiral until he could only imagine the worst possible scenarios. But if life had taught him anything, it was that nothing was as it seemed and if something felt off it probably was.

Harry had been off all week. He'd been quiet and withdrawn; when he smiled at Draco, the smile never reached his eyes.

And it wasn't like him. Draco had poured through every interaction they'd had, he racked his brain trying to come up with anything he might have said or done to inadvertently hurt Harry or make him upset. It didn't matter how much time he spent thinking, he just couldn't come up with anything.

So he decided to confront him. With coffee and a baked good. Maybe if he just reminded him subtly that he was a good boyfriend, it would go easier.

He knocked on the door to Harry's office and Harry looked up from the paperwork he was filling out, "Hey," he said, giving Draco a tired upward tilt of his lips in greeting.

"Hey yourself," he said, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Harry said as though Draco was asking something silly. "Yeah of course, love."

That was a good sign, he thought as he walked in and shut the door behind himself before handing Harry his cup of coffee and scone. "Do you have a minute to take a break?"

"I always have a few minutes for a cinnamon scone," he replied with one of those smiles that didn't change the look in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked.

(Read more below the cut)

take the moon or the moon takes you

happy wheel of drarry to @cluelesspigeons, who requested werewolves!!! thank you to @hogwartsfirebolt and @drarrymicrofic as always.

Draco Malfoy, age eighteen: a werewolf. Under the cover of darkness he digs a burrow dark and warm where the fur on his face feigns the fur of Mother's coat. If he does not touch his hands then his hands are hands not claws. If he does not breathe then he cannot smell the infinitesimal particles of dirt, of the rabbit blood racing to and fro and prickling his nose with hunger. Wonders, how long will this beast stay muzzled, tricked by the nothing? How long before his claws pierce palms and fear eats his heart?

One and two crescent moons press under hooded eyes. They say Harry Potter is a werewolf; turned by ill luck and bad fate and prowling the same midnight path as Draco with twice the vigor and none the shame. Who did this to him they ask and he says The Moon as if it is a blessing and not a curse.

A blessing in Draco's blood sullied into a malediction, festers in his shoulder and draws blood on the twist. Or was his blood born poisoned, born to the Manor and born to die? Father, who opened the gates for the devil, and Mother, who watched on in the shrouds. And he, who waited for the slaughter, waited for his eyes to yellow and his jaw to clench every moon with teeth made to kill and paralyzed that he will.

A beast howls and another howls back.

Who is Harry Potter who stalks the forest and who is he to claim Draco as one of his own? Under the cover of darkness growls a half-human half-wolf, scar running jagged through a yellowed eye. Follow me says the beast so Draco follows, out from the rabbit hole compelled by an aching hope. Brittle joints crack into place. Muscles tense and paws find their footing. He claws past gnarled roots and the faint stench of mildew into a meadow where he is muzzle to muzzle with the moonlight, face a flood of silver washed clean of sin. Followed a beast all the way to an unfamiliar home and what will happen next will happen so let it happen, let the night air open his lungs and take the moon or the moon takes you. His eyes hurt, but he howls, he howls.

out of focus eye to eye, till the gravity’s too much

posting these for posterity in case i never finish the full thing

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twitter | instagram

all my drawings:

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на русском здесь - вк

Drarry - In the room of Requirement

all drarry fanart on my twitter - https://twitter.com/egonorainu_art

на русском тут - ВК