The sheer soulmatism of Lenore and Annabel fucks me up so bad everytime I think too hard about it okay sit down y’all.
The way they were immediately drawn to each other even though they had no memory of anything! No reason to immediately become so attached and protective and trusting! Not even death could part them, it’s almost like reincarnation in a way. The sins of living and the pain that comes with being alive washed away not by holy water but rather split blood, and in this new life they’re reborn into a blank, clean slate. Even in this memoryless ‘next lifetime’ they still choose each other without hesitation, without question, and I am on my knees sobbing.
The parallels of Annabel fainting! Annabel fainted when she learned that Lenore was actually alive, and Annabel also fainted when remembering how she died, and by extension, how Lenore died too (not related to soulmatism but in one scenario her lover caught her despite the injury, and in the other Lenore had no such hinderance but failed to catch Annabel regardless and that parallel kills me so softly). The soulmatism that is reacting the same exact way when you learned she lived vs remembering how she died, the soulmatism that the love is still the same. Oh how the love is still so tragically the same, crossing that threshold of death, despite the unhappy ending you shared. Annabel faints because it’s learning you have a second chance at love vs remembering how that same love was ripped away and I am no longer on my knees but laying facedown on the floor.
(The way Annabel looked at Lenore before collapsing in both scenes but with DRASTICALLY different vibes of disbelief like okay yeah sure, sure okay mhm just smash my ribs and rip my heart right out why don’t you?)
Now, NOW, the thing that truly ends me? The crazy red/blue symbolism these two carry.
Lenore is the embodiment of red. Her thoughts come in red print, as do the ribbons she was wrapped up in. Her fiery (pun intended), confident personality, her pure raging defiance rallying those around her. What’s more, Lenore’s anger and bared teeth is painted red the same way her love is, because red is not just the color of anger. Red is love, and Lenore, my god, she cares so openly about the people around her that her heart’s just painted bloody and brazen on her sleeve. Born from self-made infernos into the person she was always meant to be- flirty, quick-witted, taking what she wants when she wants- she is a young Montague wrapped up in her family’s house colors trailblazing down her own paths.
(But unlike dear Romeo who scaled a tree to look upwards towards Juliet on her balcony, Lenore was in a tree looking downwards at her counterpart, and this parallel is so important as the scene is clearly a Romeo/Juliet parallel but without the sweet sappiness but rather tension and just like, 1000x more interesting ‘can I trust you fr fr-ness’.)
Annabel is the embodiment of blue. Her thoughts come in blue print, and her ribbons are a deep blue to match. Blue is the color of calmness, and she seems so tranquil with a gentle yet firm confidence that puts people around her at ease. A natural born leader with such cool-headedness. Oh, but underneath that mask? Sadness. SO MUCH sadness, Annabel is an ocean of it, she’s a peaceful smile with a melancholic heart shot through. Young Capulet holds not pure innocence like her Juliet-counterpart but rather a deep rooted loneliness, like guys, Annabel is actually just so fucken SAD I think we really need to address this more yes she’s a total girlboss but also Annabel is the personification of hollowed out loneliness that comes with your beloved being ripped away from you.
This really got away from me, but my point?
Lenore, the embodiment of red, has blue eyes.
Annabel, the embodiment of blue, has red-adjacent eyes.
FORGET LAYING ON THE GROUND IN TEARS I AM CURRENTLY CLIPPING THROUGH THE FLOOR AND HEADING STRAIGHT GAY TO MY GRAVE IN THE BACKROOMS!!!
YOUR HONOR THEIR EYES ARE THE GODDAMNED COLORS OF THE OTHER’S MOTHERMARYFUCKING S O U L LIKE WHAT IN THE JESUS H CHRIST BUMBLEBY SOULMATISM IS T H I S S S⁉️⁉️⁉️
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✹✯✹✯✹ my submission for the @sillylovesongsfest ✯✹✯✹✯
prompt: Sweet Dreams, TN by The Last Shadow Puppets
Drarry | 1.5k | kinda nsfw towards the end |
Summary:
Draco has a septum piercing.
Harry doesn’t know what to do about that (yes, he does).
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And all my pals will tell me is that I'm crazy
You bet I'm loopy, alright
And I just don't recognise
This fool that you have made me
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“Harry, you’re doing it again.” Hermione squeezes the back of Harry’s hand giving him a bemused smile.
Harry frowns. “Doing what again?”
Ron takes a swing of his beer, “Come on mate, we know you can get a little bit obsessed when it comes to him but—”
“I’m not obsessed—”
“Yeah you are,” Ginny snorts from beside Hermione ignoring Harry’s glare, “It’s bad enough that even I noticed and I’ve been here for what, twenty minutes?” Ginny leans close, amusement all over her face, regarding a very irritated Harry. “So, what is it this time? Did he change his cologne or did he start combing his hair differently or…”
“Is it because this has been the longest that you two have been apart since you got together and you just miss him?” Luna intervenes before Harry gets a chance to tell Ginny to fuck off.
The blond girl perched under her girlfriend’s arm looks at Harry directly in the eyes and Harry can’t help but shift uncomfortably, looking away.
“Come on sweetheart, it can’t be that.” Ginny shakes her head at her girlfriend. “Malfoy has only been away for— what, a month? Harry can’t possibly…oh you’re joking,” Ginny laughs in disbelief at Harry’s crimson cheeks.
“No, it's not— it's not just that,” Harry amends, still not looking at anyone in the face, “It’s just the other night when we were talking over floo, he looked… strange. I don’t know how to describe it better, okay? but I think he’s— I think he’s up to something,” Harry grimaces as soon as the words leave his mouth and the cacophony of groans in different states of despair is hard to miss.
“You gotta be kidding me,”
“Harry come on,”
“It’s like sixth year all over again,” Ron points out beside Harry. “Always thinking Malfoy was up to something, obsessed over his every move, I thought that maybe now that you two are together, that would stop but I think it only got worse.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Harry grumbles under his breath.
When he doesn’t get an immediate response, Harry looks up to four pairs of eyes giving him knowing looks and well, who could blame them? Harry is obsessed. Well on his way to insanity, but how’s that bad, being obsessed over one’s own boyfriend? Besides, it’s not like he’s wrong. He knows Draco is up to something, he can tell a disillusionment charm when he sees one. Even if he isn’t an Auror anymore, he’s not easily fooled.
“If you weren’t already together, It would’ve been kind of creepy mate,” Ron observes, concerned.
Hermione tuts, “Leave him, Ronald, we always knew they would end up together, didn’t we?”
“He might be insane but it’s not like he’s going to marry him anytime soon.”
Harry splutters half of the beer he’s drinking and Ginny only gives him an amused look.
“You did that on purpose,” Harry accuses.
Ginny concedes with a nod but shrugs regardless, “I’m not hearing you deny it,”
Suddenly, the condensation around his beer seems fascinating to Harry.
Two silent beats and then,
“Oh, Harry,” Luna coos.
“Oh no, you’re so gone,” Ginny teases, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Ron pats Harry on the back, heaving a sigh, “You’re completely mental, mate.”
“And you weren’t completely wrong,” Hermione says and it’s her tone that makes Harry look up from his beer and it’s then that Harry notices everyone is looking at something behind him in various degrees of surprise..
Confused by this, Harry turns around and his eyes immediately latch onto the blond boy at the other end of the pub. The vindication Harry ought to feel is quickly overshadowed by the almost physical reaction he gets when he takes a good look at Draco. Specifically, at Draco’s face. If his friends think he is already obsessed with his boyfriend, Harry is about to become completely mental.
No matter all that Harry praises himself for being observant, never in a million years would he have guessed what Draco was hiding from him.
A piercing.
A silver septum piercing.
Yeah, Harry is completely and utterly fucked.
You see, Harry has always known Draco is pretty.
Back at Hogwarts, it drove Harry spare becuase it was one of those undeniable truths that go left unsaid because it is so damn obvious nobody feels the need to point it out. To have such strong negative feelings for someone it wasn’t that surprising after all that they ended up where they did.
So, even after all this time, when Draco’s beauty was something Harry could no longer just admire from afar but touch, well, it could drive anyone crazy. Draco was already very fucking pretty but to add a silver piercing to the mix? the bastard was out to kill him, Harry was sure. The final revenge is to make Harry’s mind implode. There was nothing Draco could do now that would shake Harry’s foundation more than this.
And then, Draco looks back.
Harry is not aware of his surroundings, focused solely on Draco. All his mind can conjure as background noise is a low whistle and a “good luck, mate!” from the table he was in. Doesn’t matter anymore, he only cares about what’s in front of him.
Making his way to the entrance of the pub, bumping into people murmuring distracted apologies as he goes, after what seems like an eternity, he finally makes it to the other side.
Draco regards him with curiosity, a smirk tugging from his lips when Harry gets close.
“Harry? What are you—“
“Shut up,” Harry takes Draco’s face in his hands and kisses him hard. Draco lets out a soft whimper but quickly melts in Harry’s hands, kissing him back just as fiercely.
“Mmm, does that mean you like it?” Draco whispers when they resurface sometime later, still a bit breathless, leaning closer to each other.
“I. Love. It.” he punctuates every word with a hard kiss against Draco’s soft lips.
Draco hums, pleased. Harry doesn’t waste any time, tilting his boyfriend's head to the side to have better access to his neck. Draco complies willingly.
“Why Harry, ravishing your boyfriend in the middle of a public place, what would the Prophet say?”
“Fuck the Prophet,” Harry grumbles against his skin, biting that soft spot between Draco’s shoulder and his neck, where his pulse point is, making the blond bite back a groan. He tugs Harry's face up and kisses him even harder.
It’s not until Harry shifts a little, putting his leg between Draco’s to let him rub against it that the blond breaks the kiss to look at Harry.
“As much as I love this warm welcome Harry, I would prefer a more private setting if it’s the same for you,” Draco says breathing hard but he doesn’t stop Harry, he actually tugs him closer by the hair, so he can latch to his neck that is sporting some noticeable marks already.
Harry cannot actually think at this point but Draco is right, what Harry wants to do to him is not for everyone to see.
“My place is closer,”
“Lead the way,” still holding Draco by his hips, Harry apparates them away.
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Baby, we ought to fuck
Seven years of bad luck out
The parlor room mirror
Could I have made it any clearer?
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They don’t even stop kissing when they enter the parlour, not even to take off their clothes. It’s rather difficult to do that while you’re sucking the life out of someone but they manage. When they are left only in their pants, Harry manhandles Draco a little further inside and with a hand on his way and the other on his chest, Harry finally turns him around.
What are you—” Draco asks but stops when he sees where Harry is taking him: in front of the full-size mirror that takes up the better part of the wall.
Draco looks completely debauched; lips shining with spit, hair all over the place, a glint coming from the piece of jewellery on his nose and Harry cannot believe how incredibly lucky he is, being able to see Draco Malfoy in this state and being the cause of it. He looks beautiful and Harry can’t wait to make a complete mess out of him.
Never breaking eye contact with Draco in front of him, Harry tugs him closer by the waist until there’s no surface they’re not touching. He can feel Draco’s arse touching the outline of Harry’s hard cock and Harry gives a teasing move when he hears Draco’s breath catching.
He then leans closer, his mouth next to Draco’s ear and in a low tone Harry says,
“I want you to watch.”
Draco laughs, breathless. “Kinky bastard, aren’t you?”
“As if you didn’t put this mirror here for this exact same reason,” says Harry as he leaves a trail of open-mouth kisses down to Draco’s throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s trying to appear nonchalant, Harry can tell, but the way his body responds to Harry’s touches says otherwise.
He licks the side of Draco’s throat making him shiver. “Let me remind you, then.”
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