fiella

[fiella]

The badge of honour (drarry Grimmauld roommates AU)

[fiella]

early mornings… or something idk

[fiella]

for @drarrymicrofic | prompt: wound | wc: 54

Kiss it Better

“You’re bleeding.” 

“Observation worthy of Ravenclaw, Potter.” 

“Let me see.” 

“You already do.” 

“Stop deflecting.” 

“Stop caring.” 

“Impossible.”

Silence settles like dust.

“It’s just a scratch.” 

“On your soul, maybe.” 

“Then kiss it better.”

Heartbeat. 

“Say please.” 

“Please.”

Their mouths meet—iron-salt, rain on old stone—until the world forgets where wounds end and want begins.

[fiella]

this us just supposed to be a drarry fanfic but wtf @fiella

"A feeling that said, If you fall, I fall; if you rise, I rise; but let us orbit each other until the sun burns out."

[fiella]

i live here, btw

[fiella]

ive finished reading the fic. it was A Pyre for Two by fiella

this is the type of story that will stay with you and you will think of it in the most unexpected times. so beautiful, so painful, so human.

and i dont want to drag generative ai into this, but stories like this are the reason why i am so against ai. no machine or lines of code could ever create something as beautiful as this story and as all the other wonderful fanfictions, for that matter. creativity is human. creating is human. art is human.

[fiella]

Drarry spin the bottle or Drarry clothes swap?

Going as each other for Halloween 🎃

[fiella]

Signed, Yours

for @drarrymicrofic | prompt: slander

During a DA meeting, someone muttered arrogant little prick about Malfoy.

Harry hissed in pain. He rolled up his sleeve and the words were there. Clear as ink. Etched across his arm.

He said nothing.

Later that week, fake hero burned across Draco’s back.

He thought it was a joke, maybe a hex. Some prank.

He should’ve known back in first year, when scarhead bloomed across his thigh after Crabbe said it aloud.

But Luna was the one who finally said it: “It’s soulmate magic—or curse. You get each other’s slander.”

Harry and Draco locked eyes.

Harry smiled softly, pressing his fingers to the letters etched across his collar bone. Liar, the latest one read.

So that’s what this had been, all along.

[fiella]

you ever just keel over and sob over a ship

[fiella]

Fleurs du Chagrin

| For @drarrymicrofic | prompt: ground | wc: 58

⋆˚࿔

Draco only grows lilies now.

Moon-pale. Wilting. Waiting.

Harry picks one, breathes it in.

“You spend too much time in here,” he says.

Draco doesn’t look at him.

“I know.”

He waters the bed, careful not to disturb the sacred ground, careful not to touch the stone tucked between lilies.

The one that reads: Harry James Potter. 1980–1998

[fiella]

OKAY YES UM? THE JAR. THE BUBBLES. THE BROKEN VIOLIN??

thank you for entering the fourth dimension of understanding my brain ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

oops i reread all of htuab and then made a pinterest board of it instead of sleeping

anyway thank you @fiella for your gorgeous beautiful heartbreaking writing

(read the fic)

[fiella]

draco: finally achieves inner peace after twelve years of mental gymnastics, £12,000 on therapy bills, three exorcisms, and one guided meditation with lavender brown

harry: i love you

draco: goes DEFCON 1

Drarry Microfic I 103 words

“You… love me?”

“Yeah…”

“You… love me?!” It came out angrier this time. 

“W-well, I–”

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“Draco, I’m sorry, I–”

“Do you know how long it took me? How many sessions with that stupid therapist? Just to accept that you would never love me back? That I just had to move the fuck on! And you love me?!”

Harry gaped up at him, unsure of how to respond.

“Yes?” He finally piped up sheepishly. 

Draco’s eyes flared. Harry moved to step back, but Draco held him in place by the collar. Then he smashed their lips together. 

[fiella]

excerpts how to unbreak a boy

Draco looked at him, skeptical and lost. It was so vulnerable, so childlike—something small and quiet and almost frightened—that Harry could feel it ripple through his bones. It wasn’t the face of a grown man, not really. It was the face of a boy who never got to be one. A boy who’d never been taught how to throw a ring for the sake of nothing. Who didn’t know that laughter didn’t always have to be earned.

It reminded Harry, vaguely and horribly, of being small and strange and always wrong. Shut in the dark, holding a broken toy he wasn’t allowed to want in the first place. Of watching from the doorway as Dudley blew out candles, not quite understanding why the cake wasn’t for him. Of being punished for not knowing the rules he was never told.

That look on Draco’s face—it was like seeing his own reflection through time; a boy sitting in a cupboard with a crayon in his hands, terrified someone might see the joy on his face.

[fiella]

inhale

@drarrymicrofic | 60 words

“And that students, is how you brew Amortentia! Go on, take a whiff and make a note for your final paper.”

Draco glanced nervously around the room before returning his attention back to his potion.

He knew exactly who it would smell like, but he inhaled deeply anyway, craving the scent.

Treacle tart. Broomstick polish. The love of his life.

[fiella]

🩵

[fiella]

Heat of the moment 🔥

[fiella]

Lazy sundays