#the seeker of forbidden things

[ocs-of-the-c]

I'm gonna give you... Favorite, Canvas, Roots, and Formal for Samelle And even though not in the tags Glance, Day, and Motion for Vexan! :) -WayfinderLegacy

Thanks so much for the ask! I love any excuse to yell about my OCs. Buckle up, this is gonna get LONG.

SAMELLE

Favorite: Growing up on Balmorra, even good clothing was hard to get. Fancy clothing? Forget it. So it's no surprise that Sam's favorite accessory is a weapon, specifically a claymore. Looks something like this.

Lilmeli gave it to her after they both killed their first Imperial officer together. They were roughly eight, and Sam had beaten the man to death after he attempted to shoot Lilmeli. The problem was, they were supposed to keep the man alive and bring him back to the Resistance for interrogation. So Sam's parents screamed at her and said that she should have let Lilmeli die if it meant the mission succeeded. Sam told them to fuck off. That was the first time her father beat her.

Sam was crying in her room when Lilmeli came in with the claymore. She'd nicked it from the Imperial officer's quarters (he liked to steal pieces of Balmorran culture). Sam hugged her sister and hid that claymore until the day of her parents' betrayal. You can bet that claymore was one of the few things she took off-planet. Now that she has a metal arm, she can actually use the thing like a regular sword, which is terrifying to witness.

Initially, she didn't use it often, because the trauma from Balmorra was still fresh in her mind. She wanted to leave it all behind. But after going to Balmorra out of necessity for the class story, and confronting her parents as an adult, she has begun using the weapon in earnest. It's strapped to her back right along with her big-ass gun.

Canvas: As one might expect from a woman that started fighting for the Balmorran Resistance at age five and has never stopped since, Samelle has a veritable tapestry of scars to her name. The most obvious is her metal left arm, her cybernetic left eye, and the vicious scars on the left side of her face, which the character creator will NOT let me make as vicious as I would like. For reference, think of Two-Face from The Dark Knight.

Yeah, it's ugly. She does have all her hair though! Those scars are the result of her backstory. Her parents, Straken and Haleen, several years after the renewed Imperial push, want to back the winning side and save their own skins. They betray the Resistance to the Sith and Imperials in exchange for Lilmeli being sent to Korriban. By now, Lilmeli has displayed very minor Force sensitivity. Samelle walks in on masked Sith being ‘introduced’ to Lilmeli and gets angry. She pulls out a thermal detonator Jace Malcom style and blows the two Sith up, resulting in the scars mentioned above. Lilmeli pulls in every favor she has to get Sam prosthetics, and the two leave the planet as Imperials murder everyone they’ve ever known. The Republic military, the Jedi, and the Resistance are all pissed at the Arcfres. Sam joins a mercenary company that doesn’t ask questions, and Lilmeli goes to Nar Shaddaa.

Did I mention Sam was twelve at the time this all happened? Yeah.

Aside from that, it's various stab wounds, blaster shots, angry Balmorran wildlife (zeldrates will go for ANY body on the ground and will start feeding even if their prey is still alive), a Mandalorian flamethrower scar across her chest from when they escaped Balmorra (first but not the last time Sam fought a Mando), and Lichtenberg figures on her back and arms from prolonged Sith Lord electrocution as mentioned above. And the gut wound from Jemsyn is probably gonna scar, too.

No piercings, though. You get one of those yanked or burnt in a scrap and you're out of the fight. Sam's seen it happen.

She does, however, have a small tattoo. She got it after her mercenary company, the Sunhawks, were wiped out during the Sacking, leaving her as the only survivor. (Yeah, she saw aspects of the Sunhawks in the first Havoc Squad and finally felt like she had a family again. The betrayal was brutal). It's on her right shoulder blade, and it's a stylized persimmon silhouette of a hawk in front of a small golden sun. The whole thing is about the size of the palm of someone's hand. She knows you're not supposed to have any identifying markings as a soldier, but one, her face is kind of a dead giveaway, and two, anyone who knows the meaning of that tattoo isn't alive to tell anyone about it.

Roots: Samelle wouldn't know a fashion trend if it hit her over the head with a baseball bat. Her clothing style is practical, durable, and functional. However, I do have some specific roots and inspiration for her look. Balmorra's environment has always reminded me of the Scottish Highlands, so there's a lot of Scottish influence in Sam's fashion. Tartan, kilts, sgian-dubh (decorative knife), sporran (like a fanny pack for pocketless kilts), etc. I also snagged some Lord of the Rings influence. Think Aragorn and Boromir meet Scottish Highlands meet Commander Shepard and you'll have Sam's general fashion vibe.

Formal: Samelle doesn't love dressing up. She feels practically naked without her armor or at least one weapon on her person. Which is why regardless of her formal attire she ALWAYS makes sure to have a sgian-dubh with her formal outfit.

As for the outfit itself, Sam pretty much always wears a kilt for the bottom half. Regardless of her complicated relationship with her parents, Balmorra will always be her home, and she's proud of it. For the top of the outfit, it's something like this.

Think that, but minus the bottom half because a kilt goes there, and missing the left sleeve because of her metal arm. That's her general formal outfit.

She honestly doesn't see the point of having different looks for different occasions. Sure, it might be a little different depending on the event, like black for a funeral, but there will always be a kilt and a somewhat military-inspired top.

VEXAN

Glance: At first glance, it's Vexan's entire appearance that stands out. She is a Dathomirian Zabrak in the very heart of the Empire, with a Dark Council seat, and she doesn't wear a hood or mask. She doesn't see the need to hide. She's here, she earned her place here, and she can and will kill to keep it. Hiding would defeat the purpose. Oddly enough, she doesn't seem bothered by the glares, or the hissed insults. Upon closer inspection, there's an air of smugness about her. Like she relishes the rancor she's so skilled at generating. You get the feeling that everyone around her, save a select few, are chess pieces in a great game she's playing. You just have to hope you're not a piece she's decided to sacrifice.

Probably not what you were looking for, but Vexan has ensured that any physical scars or deformities or anything that marks her beyond being an alien is not readily visible to the public. Especially the raised scars from a whip on her back. Especially her badly burned neck from a shock collar.

Day: Vexan remembers years of ragged robes and threadbare socks. Years of begging for undergarments and being laughed at. Years of wearing literal rags while her masters lounged about in the finest Alderaanian silks. Well, no more. Now she is a member of the Dark Council, Darth Nox herself, and she will wear nothing less than what suits her status. On a normal day, she will wear luxurious robes or Sith fashion in shades of red, black, purple, dark blue, and gray. Not all at once, of course. That would be a fashion crime. An example of what she might wear in the day to day can be seen below.

One day it might be purple robes with dark blue inlay and a blue choker. Another day it might be gray robes trimmed with red, complete with a pale red scarf. Noticing a theme yet? Her default clothing must be fashionable, it must be expensive, and it must be able to cover her neck in some fashion. No one can see where the slave collar once lay. No one. She will give no one that advantage.

To that end, she wears a lot of jewelry, particularly necklaces. She has a special fondness for rubies and silver together. Blood and steel, but without all that.....messiness. Her sister may prefer a lightsaber, but Vexan is far more likely to electrocute you on the spot rather than pull out her saber. It's much more efficient.

Motion: Vexan was slightly clumsy when she was younger. That was quite literally beaten out of her during her years as a slave, and now she is flexible, coordinated, and nimble. She also moves almost silently, her feet barely making noise on the ground. Sneaking food to her fellow slaves ensured her default motion is something like a big cat's. Slow, graceful, but able to change speeds in an instant. She has, on several occasions, startled other new Sith with how silently she moves. They've asked her how she does it, but she'll never tell. A lady never reveals her secrets, after all.

This got really long, hope you like it! Some insight into my traumatized child soldier and my equally traumatized slave turned Sith!

[ocs-of-the-c]

I’m doing all eight of my mains Because I Can

Qetrani Khazin, Jedi Knight:

oxblood

You are fearless, honest, and you stick to your guns. You pride yourself on your honesty, and on being true to your values even in difficult situations. Others admire your grit, and those who can handle it appreciate your bluntness. Your friendships are ride-or-die, and your loved ones would destroy the goddamn sun for you. To put it simply: you're lowkey punk. Just remember that softness is not the same as weakness, and that it's ok to be a little more forgiving-- toward others, but also toward yourself.

Cuhe Unduli, Jedi Consular:

lavender

You have a soft heart. Your home is full of little sentimental nick-nacks you've made, been given, or picked up on your travels, and anyone who enters is immediately put at ease by your comforting energy. Your friends know they can turn to you for a cup of tea and a tight hug, or, if necessary, a kick in the ass. At times, you find yourself tending to others more than you do yourself, and you often take on more than you can bear of others' sadness. Just remember-- you are worth the same kindness you show the people around you. They would want nothing less for you.

Samelle Arcfre, Trooper:

oxblood

You are fearless, honest, and you stick to your guns. You pride yourself on your honesty, and on being true to your values even in difficult situations. Others admire your grit, and those who can handle it appreciate your bluntness. Your friendships are ride-or-die, and your loved ones would destroy the goddamn sun for you. To put it simply: you're lowkey punk. Just remember that softness is not the same as weakness, and that it's ok to be a little more forgiving-- toward others, but also toward yourself.

Lilmeli Arcfre, Smuggler:

cobalt blue

Nothing feels better to you than making something new from nothing. It would take rope, some tape, and quite possibly a triple-locked door to keep you from your creative pursuits. You are expressive and unique, and refuse to be boxed in. Some are put off or left behind by your passion for the things that matter to you. Occasionally, you would do well to slow down and ground yourself in the present. Check in with others, take a break, and let yourself worry less about that lofty goal of yours.

Xukeu Djalles, Sith Warrior:

oxblood

You are fearless, honest, and you stick to your guns. You pride yourself on your honesty, and on being true to your values even in difficult situations. Others admire your grit, and those who can handle it appreciate your bluntness. Your friendships are ride-or-die, and your loved ones would destroy the goddamn sun for you. To put it simply: you're lowkey punk. Just remember that softness is not the same as weakness, and that it's ok to be a little more forgiving-- toward others, but also toward yourself.

Vexan Djalles, Sith Inquisitor:

charcoal

You're smart, analytical, and appear balanced to the people around you. You work hard not to judge others, and to listen carefully before giving advice. For that reason,the people in your life trust you deeply, and listen well when you express an opinion because frankly, you're usually right. This need to appear calm and well-informed can be a little crushing, though-- you don't need to hide your uncertainty quite so often. It's human to need help sometimes, and with all you've done for your loved ones, they would be more than happy to provide it.

Ehela Unduli, Bounty Hunter:

oxblood

You are fearless, honest, and you stick to your guns. You pride yourself on your honesty, and on being true to your values even in difficult situations. Others admire your grit, and those who can handle it appreciate your bluntness. Your friendships are ride-or-die, and your loved ones would destroy the goddamn sun for you. To put it simply: you're lowkey punk. Just remember that softness is not the same as weakness, and that it's ok to be a little more forgiving-- toward others, but also toward yourself.

Asahi Unduli, Imperial Agent:

cobalt blue

Nothing feels better to you than making something new from nothing. It would take rope, some tape, and quite possibly a triple-locked door to keep you from your creative pursuits. You are expressive and unique, and refuse to be boxed in. Some are put off or left behind by your passion for the things that matter to you. Occasionally, you would do well to slow down and ground yourself in the present. Check in with others, take a break, and let yourself worry less about that lofty goal of yours

Took this color aesthetic quiz for my two mains which you can find here if you wanna do it! 

Saris- FOREST GREEN You’re in your own world, spinning fictions and building realities and finding the poetry in ordinary things. The people around you can tell there’s something special to you, and you’re well-loved by a some very good people. But even to your closest friends, you’re a bit of a mystery. This always surprises you to hear, because you don’t mean to put walls up– you just get so caught up in things nobody else sees that you forget to let yourself be seen. You’re complicated, and sometimes you get tangled in it. Don’t worry, though, it’s not off-putting; despite your accidental air of mystery, your warmth can be seen like a campfire through distant trees.

Nesha- LAVENDER You have a soft heart. Your home is full of little sentimental nick-nacks you’ve made, been given, or picked up on your travels, and anyone who enters is immediately put at ease by your comforting energy. Your friends know they can turn to you for a cup of tea and a tight hug, or, if necessary, a kick in the ass. At times, you find yourself tending to others more than you do yourself, and you often take on more than you can bear of others’ sadness. Just remember– you are worth the same kindness you show the people around you. They would want nothing less for you.

…Both of these honestly fit them very well! 

[k3n-dyll]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[lordprettyflackotara]

weasley whore || fred & george weasley

‘it’s not about having someone to love me anymore. this is the experience of being a weasley whore.’

sum: fred and george are your stress reliever fuck buddies, who are always there in your time of need. you’ve only ever had your affair with each of them. how will you handle them together for the first time?

tw: smut, minors dni 18+. choking, shower foreplay.

an: got a part two and three in the chamber

Fred and George Weasley were your safety nets. Explaining how it started is difficult, really.

Attempting to explain it to anyone seemed useless, so you kept your forbidden affair with them a secret.

It started back before University, when Professor Snape had done what he always did: ridicule you before the class.

It wasn’t your fault that you sucked at potions, you tried the hardest you could. You even went to the extent of bribing Theodore Nott to tutor you. All of your attempts continued to fail, resulting in you dramatically running out of class mid session. Surprisingly no one followed you as you ran down the empty halls, tears streaming down your face.

It was there you bumped into George, who was skipping whatever course he was supposed to be attending. You had turned a corner blindly, running straight into him. Unfortunately for you he had a small cauldron full of squid ink inside of it, the black liquid staining your white uniform. This sent you into even further hysterics, your fingers trembling as you tried to wipe it off. Like the gentleman George was he offered to help you get cleaned up, sneaking you into the pristine prefects bathroom.

That was the first time you found yourself entangled with a Weasley.

Fred was next, the two of you meeting by pure mistake. You were not a fan of heights, but a group of Slytherin’s bullying you about not even being able to climb a mere tree was ultimately humiliating. It wasn’t your choice to take a dragon riding class, the University plopped you into it as one of your electives. So then came the ridiculing in the main courtyard. Determined to prove yourself you climbed the closest cherry oak tree, only to find yourself stuck once the skies above cursed you with rain.

The Slytherin’s departed quickly, not wanting to get wet. Meanwhile you were clinging onto the tree limb for dear life, eyes screwed shut to avoid looking at the ground. Thats where Fred had found you, having passed by to attempt to at least show up to his astrology class. He found you utterly adorable, your skirt riding up your thighs and arms wrapped around the tree limb. He carried himself shamelessly into the rain, staring up at you from below.

“Need some help?”

His voice was smooth like butter, causing you to nervously peer down at him. Fred managed to help you down, but not without you slipping in the mud. You had accidentally fallen on top of him, your clothed cunt hovering above his crotch.

Fred couldn’t have dragged you into the room of requirement fast enough.

That’s how things went after that. Every bad day or minor inconvenience, you found yourself running to which ever one you found first. Contrary to grade school, the infamous twins were more often separate than together. It never mattered to you who you found first, both of them eager to make you forget about your problems. You hadn’t anticipated this to become your crutch, your addiction. But it had.

Your luck had turned sour over the past week.

Failed exams, explosive potions, accidentally transforming Neville Longbottom into a mouse.

It all came to a head when you were at quidditch practice, your bright yellow uniform a nice contrast against the crimson red ones you were practicing with.

It was rare you practiced with Gryffindor, the houses oftentimes switching opponents around to keep things fresh and interesting. You recognized the Weasley twins instantly, giving them a sheepish wave as you mounted onto your broom. You were a seeker, chasing after the golden snitch like you usually did. You were silently thankful Harry didn’t bother to attend University, instead making Angelina take the spot. You both were neck and neck, your eyes glued to the little gold ball. So glued in fact you hadn’t noticed Angelina falling back, a bludger smacking you dead in the face.

In the most unflattering fashion imaginable you fell off of your broom, hitting the grass with a hard thud.

You were lucky to still be conscious, your head pounding as you forced yourself to sit up. You could hear both teams rushing down to your aid, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you made yourself stand up. You shoved past the crowd of worry players, trudging into the showers. Each team has a designated locker room with showers to clean up after a game. Most teams never used theirs unless they lost, the winning team always off to gloat and party. You hardly ever thought twice about the showers, but now you did.

Peeling off your uniform and throwing it aside carelessly, you cringed at the burning sensation the scolding hot water provided the scrape on your knee. The hot water provided some sort of contentment, your head tilting back to soak in its warmth. You leaned back against the tiled wall, swallowing as you realized you needed some sort of stress relief. You slithered your hand down to your folds, finding your clit. You bit your bottom lip as you began to swirl your fingers around the bud, trying to hold back any sinful noises threatening to slip out.

When was the last time you touched yourself like this? Allowing yourself to unwind on your own?

Even as you did so, the steam from the hot shower rising, your mind went to two gingers.

You had never thought about taking them both before, but your mouth watered at the idea as you began to draw faster circles around your clit. Low whimpers escaped your lips, the thrill of being caught only turning you on further. Your eyes were fluttered shut, your mind lost in a realm of appealing fantasies when you heard footsteps.

You could feel that your face went white, instantly trying to cover yourself.

“Oh don’t stop making those pretty noises just because we’re here,” George cooed.

Poking your head out of the shower curtain your favorite set of twins stood before you. Both of them were undressing, while staring at you like you were the crazy one. “What are you guys doing in here?” You hissed, glancing down at their crimson uniforms. Fred chuckled as he tossed aside his helmet. “What does it look like we’re doing? We’re here to make sure you’re okay,” He said, a mischievous smile crawling up his lips. They both seemed to move in unison, your heart pounding.

“What if you both get caught? It’s forbidden for you to be in here!” You whisper yelled. George had managed to finish stripping first, delivering you a cocky grin. “This wouldn’t be our worst offense little lady. Besides, mostly everyone else left,” He explained. He stepped towards you, your heart racing as you allowed him to step into the shower. You were so flustered you failed to notice Fred step in using the other side, your back colliding with his chest. “Boo,” He chuckled. Your cheeks were flushed with heat, the warm water not helping.

“I-I’m not sure I can take both of you guys,” You admitted lowly. Sheepishly you looked away, George quick to grab your chin. He guided you to look up at him, causing you to swallow. “Shh this isn’t about us. We’re here to take care of you,” He cooed. Fred snickered from behind you, placing his large hands on your hips. “Besides, we heard those pretty noises you made. We know you were thinking about us,” He purred, nibbling on your earlobe. This extracted a groan from you, your body melting under their touch.

George lowered himself onto his knees, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so. “We just wanna make you feel good. You’ll let us do that for you, right?” He asked. Fred’s hands slithered up to your breast, squeezing the flesh before his fingers found your nipples, “You know what we wanna hear baby. Go on. Beg.”

Pleas left your lips like a mantra.

“Please— please, need you both. Wanna be good!”

Your begging only made both of the boys cocks grow harder, George grinning as he nudged his way in between your thighs.

“There we go. There’s our good little witch,” Fred praised, twisting your nipples harshly. You hissed in response as George’s warm tongue licked a stripe up your folds. Your hand instinctively flew to his hair, tangling itself in his roots. “Awe is someone desperate? Thats adorable,” Fred taunted. He snuck one of his hands up to your throat, squeezing the sides as George began to lap at your folds. George adored giving you head, rambling on and on about how divine you tasted. This was evident as he gripped your thighs. His lips sucked at your clit, your juices costing his chin. Fred nibbled at your earlobe, noting the way your body began to grind against George’s face.

“You like that? You like the way George devours that pretty pussy of yours?” Fred asked, brushing your hair to the side to gain access of your neck. You gasped as he attached his lips to your sweet spot, sucking harshly at the skin. “Mmm- yes! Georgie always makes me feel sooooo good,” You slurred. It was then George brought his slender fingers to your entrance, roughly shoving them inside of you. You gasped, shuddering as he curled them inside of you. “Shhh, wouldn’t want anyone to hear you would we?” Fred cooed, smirking into your skin as a bruise began to form. George could feel the way you squeezed his fingers at the idea.

“You should feel the way she’s squeezing me Freddie, I think she wants to be caught,” George commented, acting as if you weren’t even there. That only made you cling to him tighter, your gummy walls telling him everything he needed to know. “Oh is that right? You wanna be caught between us?” Fred mused. His teeth grazed your skin, causing your knees to threaten to buckle. George continued his assault on your g spot, admiring the way your hips bucked towards him. “I think she likes that, us talking about her as if she isn’t here,” George concluded. He then reattached his mouth to your clit, his tongue swirling around the bud.

“Awe is that so? You wanna be our little Weasley whore?” Fred gloated, snickering into your skin. You could feel his hard cock pressing against you from behind, the warm shower water trailing down your skin.

They always brought you to the edge so quickly, but together? You felt like your body was ignited and on fire, engulfed in the pleasurable flames only Fred and George could give you.

“Fuck, yes! Wanna— be your whore!”

George knew the body like the back of your hand, sensing your orgasm was coming near. Fred reattached his hand to your throat, his breath hot as he spoke into your ear.

“Go on then. Call yourself our whore and you can cum.”

His venomous tone only made your thighs tremble, your vision going white as you declared what you truly were.

“I’m cumming, shit- I’m a Weasley whore!”

[selfish-thunder]

I’ve fallen into a Marauder’s time era rabbit hole in the HP fandom, and I’ve really been enjoying the portrayal of Peter Pettigrew. And it gave me an idea

AU where Peter isn’t a piece of shit. He’s still a coward, but being a Gryffindor means he learns how to turn his cowardice into something actually helpful. He’s still not as talented as the others, but that just means while the others took lead in the spellwork, he was on the side lines able to see when pranks were about to go sideways and could plan for it. He was shy and timid at first, but you can’t be friends with The Marauder’s without growing thick skin and learning to give as good as you got. 

His special skill set? Being the unassuming one. Oh, that sweet Peter, not nearly as attractive or talented, following around that Potter and Black like a lost puppy, always needing tutoring from Lupin (there’s a good lad, always making time for Peter even with the added prefect duties)...

Yeah, no. 

The Marauders send Peter in first to stake out a joint. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor! Honest, I wasn’t trying to get into the Hufflepuff common room. I was looking for the kitchens. James and Sirius have detention with McGonagall again tonight, so I wanted to have some snacks waiting for them when they got back.”

“Good morning, Professor! Beautiful day, isn’t it? … Huh? What do you  mean this is an overgrown path to the Forbidden Forest only staff use? Sirius told me it was a shortcut to greenhouse seven! Oh, no! Sorry, professor! Sorry, sorry, but um… do mind writing me a note? I’m going to be late if I have to double back!”

Peter happily takes on the role of spy for the Marauders, for espionage and good ol’ slight-of-hand.

“Excuse me, professor, but um… Snape is out in the courtyard with James, and–” professor rushes out “Excellent, now for those potion ingredients…”

bag tears as they’re leaving charms class “You guys go on! No, don’t worry, Professor, you go on to lunch. This happens all the time. I’ll be out in a jiffy” alone in the classroom “Aha, see Professor, we weren’t late with our essays, you just didn’t look in this drawer… Eew, Snape’s essay… I’d say this could benefit from a little editing…” evil giggle

“No, I overheard the whole thing while waiting for the Pepper-Up in the hospital wing. They don’t think the Ravenclaw Seeker will be able to play. I don’t know who they’re replacing him with, but it sounded like it might be Miller, James. Oh, and I nick those late slips, Sirius, here you go.”

Give me a Peter who was genuinely loyal and loved his friends like they loved him. He’s still a Little Shit, but he’s not a Piece of Shit.

[notamobboss]

I started a new playthrough of Horizon Zero Dawn last night and noticed a dialogue opportunity that I had somehow not seen in my half dozen previous playthroughs. After the lantern ceremony but before going to the lodge, you can talk to Teersa about the whole outcasts in the brave trials thing and she says that not only is Aloy the first she knows of to have ever claimed the right of outcast teens to rejoin the tribe via the brave trials, she's only the second child outcast that she knows of, the first being a 13yo boy who committed matricide.

I also have a much deeper appreciation for how her upbringing with Rost contributed to her "the world is on my shoulders and it is my responsibility to save it alone" attitude that her friends spend much of Forbidden West reigning in. He was grooming her to be the greatest defender of the tribe, to take on his role from before he became an exiled death seeker. But she (quite reasonably) never felt any loyalty to a tribe who ignored her as a rule and spoke disdainfully to her back or even threw rocks and laughed.

So yeah, Aloy is a CPTSD girl and honestly it's surprising she isn't messed up even worse when she learns she was literally made to save the world. And then there's her sister, Beta, who was raised in a completely different form of isolation and developed almost mirror image trauma responses. There's a scene in HFB where the sisters are puzzling over how two clones of the same person can end up so different and Aloy points out that she's like she is because she had Rost but I don't think she realizes the extent to which that is both correct and a drastic oversimplification of the difference in their upbringings and the extent nurture and lack of has on someone's development.

I really wish my partner liked games with platformer aspects because he would absolutely analyze the hell out of this series from a clinical counseling angle and have a much more thorough analysis than anything I could put together.

[praisethegabs]

HEALING

Re2r!Leon Kennedy x Scientist!Reader

synopsis: leon is in the process of healing, and this is something that requires patience, attention, kindness, and empathy. after everything he went through in the lab, now he is slowly adjusting to the world again, and he needs you more than never. you know he'll live with the scars for the rest of his life, but all that matters is his safety and the new memories he'll make.

warnings: small angst (bc why not?) at first, but ends with fluff. mentions of ptsd, nightmares, traumas, and a lot of care. reader is very supportive and patient with him. the parts in italic are from flashbacks.THIS CONTAINS HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE! Do NOT read it if triggers you!

word count: 4845k

a/n: this is the second part for Freak, so you guys need to read it first! I wrote it at my job and I was really scared that someone would catch me. Anyways, enjoy it 🩵

TAG: @navstuffs

"things will dissolve and be released and settled into spaces, and you will find your place in this vast and brilliant world." Seeker

He still had nightmares.

And they keep him awake most of the night. He would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his limbs trembling as if an electric current surged through his veins. Feeling scared, he seeks comfort, something small to reassure him that he isn't in the cold, white lab anymore.

Sometimes, his nightmares were so deep and dark that it was difficult to bring him back to the waking world.

But you knew since that day that he would go through with this. Although he was no longer in the lab, Leon still suffered from the aftermath of the events. He was haunted by the trauma and horrors he had experienced for many years.

The first weeks at your country house demanded a lot of energy from you. Leon was so exhausted and weak that it seemed like he wouldn't make it. You had to bathe him, change the bandages on his wounds, and essentially encourage him to eat. Eventually, he regained his body weight, and it wasn't necessary to keep the IV on him anymore. This was a significant progress.

But still, neither you nor he would talk about the lab.

It was a forbidden subject, mostly because you knew Leon had PTSD. Considering his well-being, you decided not to discuss what had happened. The stressful experiments, abuse, and everything else left him scared, traumatized, and with deep trust issues, causing him to have no trust in you whatsoever. But with patience and care, he was slowly starting to see you as his friend, not as a threat.

After two months at your country house, Leon was still recovering. Now, he was able to walk around the house without the IV pole next to him, and he didn't feel weak. You had a special diet made for him to help him regain his weight, and it was effective. Secretly, he loved your cooking, but he would never say that - at least not aloud.

Besides following a special diet, he had a rigorous workout routine. He enjoyed exercising outdoors, admiring the lush, green landscape, and basking in the warmth of the sun. After spending so many years trapped inside a padded room, he was always amazed by the beauty of nature. It didn't matter how many days he had already spent sitting in the grass, simply watching the sunset. He felt at peace.

And all of that, thanks to you.

"Please, I... I don't want it," Leon begged, his eyes tearing up as he saw you approaching with a syringe.

"Leon, I promise I won't hurt you," you sighed, as you attempted to administer the medicine. "It's just medicine."

"But it's going to hurt!" Leon shouted, backing against the wall, his body already trembling.

"I wish I could take pills, but this particular medication cannot be given in pill form, Lee," you said as you sat on his bed, attempting to convince him. "And I promise, you won't need to take the medication again. This is the last one."

Leon glanced at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. It was extremely challenging to administer the medications he required, mainly because they all had to be injected into his body using a syringe, and, understandably, he had a strong aversion to needles.

"The last one?" He asked, searching for any sign of reassurance on your face. Noticing that, you simply nodded your head.

"Yes, the last one. After that, you will be taking pills or liquid. I didn't have time to buy any other medication," you explained to him calmly, hoping he would understand. "If you want to improve, you need to take your medication, okay?"

"But..."" His voice cracked for a moment, and then he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Tears were still falling down his face.

"I know, I know..." you gently approached him, sitting beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently embracing him. "You're doing well, do you know that? I'm proud of you."

"Am I?" He glances at you, searching once again for reassurance, to which you nod.

"So, will you be brave and let me administer the medicine?" You smiled, finally persuading him to trust you to do your job.

Leon nodded, and you helped him sit back on his bed. He extended his arm, allowing you to inject the needle into his vein. You prepared everything, gently cleaning his arm with a damp cotton pad and antiseptic solution. Right before administering the medication, you glanced at him.

"Alright, close your eyes for me," you instruct him, and he obediently complies by tightly shutting his eyes. "Good boy."

Leon smirks slightly and then groans softly as he feels the needle piercing his skin. A single tear fell from his eye when you finally administered the medication. When you finished, you covered the small bleeding wound with a cute band-aid.

"See?" It's done," you stroke his hair as a way to comfort him after he successfully tackled something that made him feel uneasy. "You did really well."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sounding sad. Then, when his eyes met yours, he was on the verge of tears once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart. I just want you to know that I am not mad at you for being scared, okay? You went through a lot, and now you're healing," you reassured him, gently holding his hands and intertwining them with yours.

Now that he was doing better, you were starting to worry about Umbrella finding you again. Before you left, you made the decision to find a secluded country house, far enough from the city that nobody would disturb you. It was almost like reaching another level. You took numerous safety precautions to ensure that they would not find Leon again.

You never told him about this. You didn't want him to be scared, especially now that he's finally recovering. Not only that, but you knew that someday you would have to tell him. However, this wasn't the best moment to do so. Thinking about the possibility, you had already formulated a Plan B and made all the necessary preparations to start again if needed. As long as you keep him safe, everything will be just fine.

Now, he is enjoying the peaceful life he deserves. No more tests, experiments, or abuse. Just calm and peace of mind.

"Leon!" You shouted his name from the kitchen and waved at him. "Dinner's ready!"

"Alright, I'm coming," you saw him nod his head, then redirect his attention to the sunset again. You smiled softly, knowing that he wouldn't see it.

He was a good boy, still learning about the world. He still had some submissive traits, but he was learning that he had the power to refuse and express his feelings and thoughts. Teaching Leon that he was allowed to say "no" was the next step in this journey, although you were having some trouble doing so.

"This smells good," Leon said as he walked into the house through the kitchen door. "What is it?"

"Can you guess?" You smiled at him, positioning yourself in front of the oven to block his view of what you were baking.

"It smells like... lasagna," he blushed deeply. On Fridays, you usually pamper him by giving him a break from his diet.

"Yep." "That's right," you nodded, smiling. Without hesitation, Leon set the table, preparing for dinner. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You both sat at the ornate wooden table for dinner. While you gave him a slice, you could see his eyes shining. Back at the lab, the food Leon had barely eaten smelled and tasted awful. That's why he was so skinny and weak, but now he can eat whatever he wants. Lasagna was one of his favorite dishes.

"I had a dream last night," Leon said after a moment. He glanced at you, expecting your attention.

"Really? About what?” you asked curiously, smiling at him again.

"I don't remember exactly, but... I think it was me before the lab," he said, and the last word sounded cold. "I was happy."

"Aren't you happy now?" You asked again, taking a bite of your lasagna before redirecting your gaze towards him.

His face turned pale, and he started to stutter again in response to your sudden question.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you laughed, trying to lighten his mood. He sighed, feeling relieved. "This is a good thing, I suppose." "You're improving, and soon you'll be able to leave if you want."

"Leave?" He raised his eyebrows, displaying visible confusion.

"Yes. You can now make your own choices, Leon. This means you can decide whether to stay or go," you smiled softly, then held his hand again.

"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here... with you," he almost whispered the last part, but you managed to hear it nonetheless. "You're the only person I know, and the only one who cares about me. I feel safe with you, and for the first time in my entire life, I am happy."

His words were full of honesty. The way he looked at you and the sincerity behind every word he spoke. You nodded once more, then embraced him tenderly. At this point, you had nothing else to say. Instead, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warm sensation in your chest. You wouldn't force Leon to stay with you against his own will, but now, if he wanted to do so, you wouldn't refuse.

"Are you sure about that?" You asked him after you broke the embrace, gazing into his baby blue eyes.

"Yes, I do," he nodded, whispering. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently touching his forehead to yours in a tender manner.

You're reading a book, one of your favorites. You don't remember exactly when this started happening, but now it serves as a form of therapy for both of you. He lies between your thighs, you stroke his hair, and everything is at peace.

Leon was peacefully lying in your lap, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, and his head resting on your stomach as you gently stroked his blonde hair. You can't tell if he's awake or asleep, but you know he's calm because of his gentle breathing. His thumb traces circles on your leg, and for a long moment, there is only the sound of rain and the warmth emanating from the fireplace.

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Leon woke up screaming in the middle of the night. "Shit, holy shit."

"Leon, what's going on?" You opened his door to find him shirtless and gasping for breath. Sweat fell down his face, and his frightened blue eyes sought solace.

"I... I had an n-nightmare,” he said, his voice cracking and his entire body shaking with fear.

He started to cry, sobbing loudly. Leon tried to hide his face in the blankets, but you gently uncovered his face, embracing him tightly. You sighed, but you didn't say a word about it. With a gentle touch, you began to stroke his hair, softly whispering a lullaby in his ear to soothe him.

"I was there again. They were hurting me," Leon hissed, his voice still cracking with tears and sobs. "I can't sleep."

He looks at you, and seeing him in such a broken and vulnerable state makes your heart ache. He feels guilty. He thinks he's a burden, and you shouldn't waste your time with him. None of this is true, of course, and you still need to remind him of that.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up," he sobs quietly, closing his eyes and examining his own hands. The intravenous line on his right hand is covered with transparent bandages, which are connected to the pole next to his side. This serves as a constant reminder of how frail his body is.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Come here, come lie with me." You gently hold his hand, leading him to your room.

Leon nodded, and with his slow pace, he followed you while holding his IV pole for support. It has only been two weeks since you brought him to your country house, and he still struggles with nightmares. He walks very slowly, and fatigue quickly overcomes him. You open the door and walk beside him until you reach your king-size bed, seating him on the mattress and adjusting the bedside table next to his side.

"I wish I could chase away the monsters... I wish I could protect you even as you sleep, but I can't," you whispered, kneeling on the floor, still holding his hand, and witnessing the pain he is in. "But I'm here, and nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

"I'm sorry," he sobs quietly, avoiding your gaze.

"Remember what I told you? There's nothing to be sorry for," you smiled gently, pushing the blankets away so he could lay down. "This isn't your fault."

"Back at the lab, they always made me think everything was my fault. They used to say that I deserved to be punished, that I deserved to be hurt and treated like some kind of animal," Leon said vaguely, his face still down as he avoided your gaze. "You know, one of the rules was that we shouldn't talk unless spoken to, and we could only say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am'. But even when we were allowed to talk, they would beat us and say that we deserved it."

Leon never spoke about the lab, and you never insisted on discussing the subject. You knew that one day he would open up to you, but you never thought it would happen after a nightmare. So, you decided to show your support by letting him vent, holding his hand, and ensuring he knew he was safe.

"During my first month, I was beaten up almost every day, at least ten times. They would often beat me simply because I was an innocent child who would cry out for my mother and plead for help. I was naive, but after a while, I learned the hard way that I wouldn't be rescued and my parents were not coming for me," Leon says, and you can see that he's crying again. He bites his lower lip, breathes in and out, and shakes once more. "There was a doctor. He pretended to be my friend, but... he touched me. I cried. I felt dirty and scared. He was supposed to take care of me, not hurt me the way he did… he said I could trust him, but when I did, he turned into a monster. He touched me for months, and nobody took any action. One day, when he tried to touch me, I fought back. This caused me to spend a month or two inside a cold, concrete cell, but it was worth it. I never saw him again"

You were shocked by his story. His file didn't contain this information, and you began to ponder what other things they were hiding. You felt disgusted.

"After I attacked the doctor, the situation deteriorated. They locked me inside a concrete cell. It was so cramped that I had very little space to move around. To make matters worse, the cell had an open top, which meant that whenever it rained, I would get drenched and remain wet for hours until the rain finally stopped. When the rain stopped, they would enter the cell and take me out, usually beating me and locking me up again," Leon let out a loud sob and a deep hiccup. His nose and eyes were red at this point. "But I didn't care. At least, I could feel the cold rain and the warmth of the sun, and I could breathe fresh air. He never touched me again. I don't know what happened, but ever since that day, I learned the hard way that I couldn't trust anyone."

He glances at you. His baby blue eyes shone with tears and sadness, his soul shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately seeking healing. Trying to find peace.

“I know none of this is my fault, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, when I look in the mirror, I remember what he did to me and… and…” he doesn't finish his sentence. Leon started to cry again, and you immediately leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.

The way he cried made his body ache, and you could feel him jerking as he sobbed loudly, to the point where he shut down completely. His mind is in chaos, he is drowning in darkness, and everything is a mess. He cannot talk, and he cannot breathe. You had never seen him like that before, and it scared you.

"It's okay, everything will be alright, I promise," you whispered, gently kissing the top of his head to soothe him.

It took at least an hour for Leon to completely calm himself down. You managed to lay him on your bed, using the blanket to cover him and keep his body warm. Gently, you moved his hair away from his face and hugged him tightly. Leon was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. You gently traced your fingers down his back, mindful of his limits, until he fell asleep.

It was the first time he had slept the entire night.

"What are you reading?" he asks in a husky voice after a moment of silence.

"Hamlet," you replied softly, your fingers entwined in his hair as you gently stroked it.

"Can you read it for me?" he asks softly, lifting his head so he can see you with his big, puppy-like blue eyes. "I like hearing you."

As the rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, you sat comfortably on the sofa with Leon's head cradled in your lap. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and bathed in a soft, warm glow emitted by the lamp on the side table. You turned the pages of the weathered book, your fingers tracing the well-worn lines of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Leon's eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic, and a faint smile played on his lips as he listened to your voice. Your words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying the weight of a timeless tale. You read with a soft, melodic cadence, your voice rising and falling, like the raindrops outside the window.

"To be or not to be, that is the question," you began, your voice filled with contemplation. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."

The rain outside seemed to synchronize with the soliloquy, its gentle patter against the glass creating a soothing backdrop for Shakespeare's words. You continued, your fingers running through Leon's hair, reciting, "To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."

Your voice wove a tapestry of emotions, your words caressing Leon's soul as the story of Hamlet unfolded. He felt so at peace, as if nothing in this world could ruin this moment. He loved the way you read to him. He loves being touched by you.

For someone who was treated like an animal for most of his life, being treated as a human being with feelings and emotions certainly caused him to break. Leon never thought he could escape his nightmare. He never imagined that his life would turn out like this. Two months ago, Leon gave up all hope he had. He made peace with himself, accepting that he would die in the lab.

But you saved him.

You saved him in every possible way. You came when everything seemed to be lost, when all he knew was darkness and pain. You were the light he needed, the touch of the sun, the warmth of an embrace, and the happiness he desperately craved. You were the missing piece he had been searching for all those years. But until this very moment, he had to walk a long road.

The moonlight bathed the countryside in an ethereal glow, and Leon had spent a week recuperating in the country house, gradually healing his body and spirit. After his first week at home, you observed him gradually regain strength, patiently anticipating the opportune moment to provide him with a symbolic liberation from his past. Finally, put an end to this chapter once and for all. On this particular night, after serving him dinner, you approached his bedside with a gentle expression, filled with kindness and determination.

"Leon, I have something for you," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "I think it's time for us to finally leave the lab behind and move on."

Leon, still weak and pale, looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was beginning to trust you implicitly, but the memories of the lab still clung to him like shadows.

"What do you mean?" Leon asks, his voice still weak and husky, as if he's struggling to stay awake.

"Come with me," you smiled soothingly at him, stroking his hair.

With great care, you helped him to his feet, wrapping a warm shawl around his shoulders, while he used the pole to support his weight. You both walked slowly, your steps synchronized with his weakened state, into the embrace of the moonlit night. Leon's steps were still uncertain, and his body felt fragile after a week of rest and recovery. The path you two followed led to a field — an expanse of wildflowers in full bloom. This field was alive with the beauty of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. It was a symbol of nature's resilience and the potential for fresh starts. The fragrant air surrounded both of you, providing a refreshing contrast to the sterile environment of the lab.

You led him to a makeshift altar beneath a towering oak tree, with candles flickering and dancing in the breeze. On the altar, you placed a small bundle of clothes — the very same garments he had worn as a test subject in the lab.

"Leon Scott Kennedy," you said softly, "Today marks one week since we left the lab, and it has been a week since you embarked on your new life. I want you to leave the past behind and find closure. I want you to find peace and happiness, but for that, we need to do something first. These clothes represent the darkest chapter of your life. It's time to say goodbye to them."

As you handed him the old lab coat, the attire itself served as a constant reminder of his torment. The fabric was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers trembling. The memories, the pain, the suffering — all were contained in that fabric. The old uniform was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. But now, it was time to let go. With a deep breath, he placed the clothes on the fire that you had kindled.

The flames engulfed the garments, and the flickering light cast dancing shadows on Leon's tear-streaked face. The clothes started to burn, gradually disintegrating into ashes and embers. As he watched the fire consume his past, tears started to blur his vision. As the fire engulfed them with a voracious intensity, consuming them bit by bit, you witnessed Leon's tears cascading down his face.

He cried for the pain he had endured, for the years stolen from him, and for the loss of innocence. But with each tear that fell, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

You held him close, with your arm around his shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay to cry, Leon. You're finally free."

He sank to his knees in the field filled with wildflowers, his heart burdened by the weight of his past but also uplifted by the promise of a fresh start. As the last of the lab clothes turned to ashes, Leon realized that he had emerged from the darkness. He was no longer a guinea pig, but a man, free to write the story of his own life.

He cried so much that night. He finally found peace.

Leon stood on the porch of the charming country house, holding a cup of steaming tea. The world around him was a picturesque canvas of green hills and blooming wildflowers. Birds sang a melodious chorus, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees. The air was filled with a sense of peace he had never experienced before.

The next morning, you woke up and found his bed empty. This had become quite normal by now. Leon always wakes up before you and prepares breakfast. So, after getting out of bed and taking care of your morning routine, you went downstairs. The kitchen door was open, and a chilly breeze blew in. Despite the sun shining in the sky, it was still cold. You spotted him and smiled, grabbing your coffee mug.

As Leon sipped his tea, his thoughts wandered back to the years he had spent as a captive in that sterile lab. The painful experiments, the isolation, and the uncertainty, each memory weighed heavily on his soul. He had endured the unimaginable, and yet, here he was - finally free.

The contrast between his past and the serene present was staggering. He had been reduced to a mere subject of scientific curiosity, dehumanized and robbed of his dignity. But now, in the tranquil countryside, he was rediscovering the true essence of life.

He had his eyes fixed on a solitary red rose that swayed gently in the breeze. As he gazed at the rose, he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had missed during his captivity. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions. What had he missed while he was trapped? How has the world outside changed? What had become of his family and friends, if they still existed at all? Leon's thoughts were a labyrinth of uncertainty, a journey through the mysteries of his past.

A butterfly landed on a nearby flower, and he watched it with fascination. It was a symbol of freedom and transformation, a reminder that he too had the chance to start anew. With each passing day, he rediscovered the simple joys of life — the taste of fresh strawberries, the sound of laughter after a joke, and the sensation of grass under his fingers.

As the rose swayed in the breeze, he silently made a silent promise to himself: to cherish every moment of freedom, to embrace the beauty of the world, and to make the most of the life that had been stolen from him for far too long.

"I know you're watching me," Leon says, not turning back to face you, and taking another sip of his tea. Chamomile is his favorite.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you said, getting closer to him and standing by his side.

"I never thought I would see the world again. I kept imagining things in my mind as a way to escape that hell and forget the pain. But now that I'm here, I have a new chance, and I don't intend to waste the rest of it." Leon looks at you tenderly, his hand reaching out for yours. "I thought I was going to die in there, but you saved me. You gave me my life back, you helped me heal, and I'm here today because of you."

The smile on your lips was almost involuntary.

"I know it was hard for you, but thank you for not giving up on me," he says, his baby blue eyes locked onto yours.

"I would never give up on you, Leon," you almost whisper, your voice filled with a sudden happiness you never knew existed.

He smiled, then kissed your forehead. As the sun rose, the two of you sat side by side, observing the sky and the sunlight caress the lush field. After all this time, he allowed himself to feel again, and at first, it felt strange. It felt uncomfortable. He was scared that he would be hurt until you proved to him that you were not like the others. The way you made him feel, the way you showed him that life could be simple, and that it was okay to feel and be afraid sometimes, changed him. He was insecure, traumatized, and scared. You helped him see the other side of life. You found him when he was lost. Now, he had something to believe.

He was free, and he had you by his side. And no one would ever take his freedom away again. 

[suchawrathfullamb]

GET THE WILL GRAHAM VIBE

Since so many of you are obsessed with the idea of being Will and dressing like him ain't working out, because it's not about aesthetics, but about aura...Here's an analysis of his energetic configurations, with a practical advice on how to actually embody that vibe:

The first thing to understand is that we analyze the energetic components of characters based on the actor's charts, because if we look at life as one big play, and theater/film being a micro reflection of that concept, then the director or creator of the movie/play/show acts as a god, casting a specific actor for a specific role. Therefore we do not need to know a fictional character's date of birth or anything of the sort, as the actors are always being cast in characters that mirror the spiritual stage they embody.

Hugh Dancy shares the same archetype of Jared Padalecki, hence why Will and Sam have almost identical arcs: fighting with two sides of their nature, emphasizing the dualistic nature of reality (good and bad, wrong and right), going through tumultuous and torturous trials, and having an abiding love for someone that drives their actions. They also share funny similarities such as loving dogs, wearing plaid, being intellectual and having hair that calls attention lol.

They both have "special abilities" that are a burden to them.

Both Hugh and Jared were born under a specific Lunar energy that is ruled by Rudra.

The name "Rudra" itself comes from the Sanskrit root "rud," meaning "to cry" or "to howl." This suggests a deity connected to emotions, particularly pain, anguish, and a primal longing.

It's not at all random that both characters are known for crying, suffering and even Will always being "soaked"!

Sam and Will were transformed through pain, and Rudra symbolizes both the terror and beauty of destruction that leads to transformation.

And his association with grief and destruction gives him a complex and paradoxical nature: he is fierce yet tender, destructive yet deeply compassionate.

This particular constellation is called Ardra, the "star of sorrow," symbolized by a teardrop and represents the stormy aspects of life, including intense emotions, challenges, and upheaval. This constellation brings forward the power of Rudra, channeling his energies of anger, grief, and eventually purification.

Ardra is under the influence of Rahu, the "head of the dragon", and is a shadow planet, often associated with desires, illusions, materialism, and obsessions. According to myth, Rahu was originally an asura (demon) who, during the churning of the ocean (Samudra Manthan), managed to steal a sip of the nectar of immortality by disguising himself among the gods. When Vishnu discovered this, he beheaded Rahu, but since Rahu had tasted the nectar, his head became immortal. Rahu represents the severed head, while his counterpart, Ketu, represents the body.

Rahu symbolizes the relentless drive to achieve one’s desires, often leading one into uncharted or forbidden territories. He is associated with illusion (maya), hidden ambitions, taboo-breaking, and transformation.

Under Rahu’s rule, Ardra becomes a place where the individual seeks knowledge and experience beyond the traditional boundaries. This can manifest as a search for the truth behind illusions or a confrontation with uncomfortable aspects of life.

Rahu is a seeker, often looking for what is hidden or forbidden. Under Rahu’s influence, Ardra natives are known for their quest for truth, curiosity about life’s mysteries, and a tendency to probe deeply, even if it means challenging established norms.

Rahu’s energy in Ardra encourages the exploration of the shadow, things that are hidden, feared, or unaccepted. People influenced by Ardra often have the courage to face difficult truths, both within themselves and in the world, which can lead to personal growth and transformation.

Those with a strong Ardra influence may challenge societal expectations, explore unconventional paths, or engage in activities that push boundaries.

Together, Rahu and Ardra form a nakshatra that is both turbulent and transformative, focusing on a path where one must confront illusions, fears, and inner darkness to attain deeper understanding and freedom. Rahu’s influence on Ardra makes this nakshatra a place of karmic learning and powerful change, where the storms of life (symbolized by Rudra) bring both destruction and the possibility of rebirth.

In this way, Ardra and Rahu teach the lesson that confronting and dismantling our illusions, fears, and attachments is essential for spiritual growth, even if it involves pain or hardship. Through the intense journey of Ardra, Rahu ultimately leads to the breaking of old patterns and the emergence of a clearer, more authentic self.

What you really want to exude though, is Will's magnetism that comes from him embodying duality so perfectly (hence the "gender envy" you guys talk about). You want that yin-yang, magnetic aura.

Well, you can get that by chanting the HRIM mantra.

Chanting "Hrim" can make a person more magnetic due to the mantra's deep association with Shakti—the divine feminine energy that embodies attraction, creativity, and transformative power.

When chanted, Hrim produces a sound frequency that subtly shifts one's energetic field, making it more harmonious and balanced. This resonance aligns the practitioner with cosmic forces, increasing their natural charm and appeal, as they are attuned to the fundamental energy of creation and attraction.

By connecting with the energy of maya and transcending illusions, Hrim helps one cultivate inner radiance or tejas (spiritual glow). This inner radiance becomes visible to others as an attractive, magnetic quality that draws people in on an almost intangible level, as they sense a vibrant, vital energy.

This mantra is amazing for anxiety, also. It generates a sense of space/void so it clears the mind.

Also, his expression number is 3, deriving from 21, which means he embodies major arcana The World and The Magician, birthing the Empress.

The Empress is the verb, the ternary, plenitude, nature, fecundity, generation in the three worlds. She is wisdom. Discernment. Idealism. Intellectual solar influence. It is the arcane of Sacred Magic, an instrument of divine power.

The Magician is the Creative Impulse and The World is the closing, the manifestation being completed. So we have, essentially, the creative impulse of completion that generates sacred magic. This manifests an individual who exudes a sort of surreal magnetism that is very tender and feminine in nature, at the same time that it triggers a feeling of wanting that individual's dominance over you, but not through force, but through love/care. Which explains why most fans want to "baby" Will but also crave for moments where he acts unhinged.

[lbulldesigns]

Sound advice for avoiding Arcane Season 2 leaks.

Find another hyper fixation for the next three months.

That way, whilst you're fixating on the new shiny thing, you won't be looking at the forbidden attention seeker (Arcane season 2 leaks) and can feel assured that when the new season finally comes out you can go into it unbiased 😁

Right now, I'm low-key hyper fixating on A Song of Ice and Fire and Deadpool and Wolverine simultaneously ❤️💛💙🧡

[cozzzynook]

got any blitzbee for blitzbee week? or any ship with bee :]

So i’m a day late but the subject for day one being forbidden had art that inspired me so much.

I loved it.

Bee sneaking Blitzwing out who was kept in the lowest parts of autobot territory after being tortured.

He was physically tortured and it shows with how much energon he’s leaking and how much of his frame is missing. There’s a small pool of energon on the floor, his insignia has been ripped off. His wings were damaged but he could still fly. They badly damaged the treads of his tank alt mode and Bee winces at how heavy the chains are around his secret conjunxs neck cables and servos and pedes are.

They have to keep someone like Blitzwing in stasis cuffs and so the chains act as a numbing agent and keep him immobile. Bee sees all this even if his team tried to keep him from seeing it because they believed he was traumatized during his capture and thats why he won’t speak.

It wasn’t that though.

He and Blitzwing had known each other for millions of stellar cycles. Their courting was long, shy and done before the war actually broke out.

Bee was far older than they thought he was. Yeah he was still a young bot but he was emerged before the great wars really kicked off about a hundred years approximately. He’s only ever known war and it was during the war he met Blitzwing.

He was a young mech that got caught in a blast running to safety. He was relatively fine but the young seeker next to him was not.

Bee doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to bring the large lanky seeker into a destroyed shelter and patching him up the best he could.

Of course he recognized the decepticon insignia after helping him but at that time Bee knew the decepticons were right in fighting for freedom. This was before things became twisted and when Megatron wasn’t a warlord.

It was a couple days later before Blitzwing onlined. The mech was in a daze and couldn’t hold his own helm up. Bee managed to find some energon that wasn’t enough to quench even his thirst but he gave it to the large mech who greedily drank it before rushing to sit up with a wince.

Of course Bee was on guard and scurried back. He wasn’t stupid, a bleeding spark yes but not stupid, he knew he couldn’t take on any bot fighting in the war let alone a con as tall as this one.

But the con didn’t seem at all willing to hurt him in fact the con looked at him like he hung the stars covered by smog and smoke.

Bee can admit he was love struck looking into those optics the first time he truly saw them.

Its why he took the lanky mechs servo in his own and never looked back as he was led to a tent on an old and tribal looking base camp where many cons and those looking for change and safety wandered.

They initially were strangers who felt their spark soar every moment they were near another. Bee knew the mech when his designation was Frostwing.

Sharing soft touches, making sure their tent was clean and warm by the time the mech came back. Making energon for them and others who were injured, helping patch wounds under medics guided servos so he could be of use and not feel like a rusted bag of spare parts.

Before autobots became too underhanded bots were still emerging sparklings and even having them. He would help take care of them and help around the tents so the carriers wouldn’t have to clean and could rest.

He remembers the early days of being with the decepticons off battlefield. They were damaged, broken and hurt. But warm, kind and caring in ways he didn’t associate with autobots.

Frostwing as well.

Especially Frostwing.

Bots wouldn’t believe him if he said the mech who became a triple changer and cannibal once brought him sweet energon every week in the roughest of war zones because he believed he was worth it. This same mech who made sure he was cuddled close to his chassis, rubbing his helm to lull him into recharge with the help of his spark was the same mech who later was injured so badly in the middle of the war they used the triple changer project to bring him back.

Changing him painfully without consent with manipulation and no care for his well being.

Bee knew better than to say something. He didn’t want to risk either of them being offlined. Its was then he knew the decepticons had changed but it was too late.

Frostwing was now a valuable weapon and Bee was far too indebted to them to leave. Not to mention he was the sparkbond and conjunx of Frostwing now named Blitzwing.

His love was given two additional face plates and a fractured processor and frame that left him aching and in pain for what felt like stellar cycles.

Bee stayed up every night with him keeping his frame from over heating and administering pain lines to ease his torment.

He was afraid his love had changed drastically and wouldn’t love him anymore. Wouldn’t be able to live in a frame with a mind so altered and so suddenly after a near death experience.

Bee knew the moment he saw his beloved changed he would stay by his side no matter what. He just feared Blitzwing would not want him.

But his fears were for nothing.

His love, his spark and beautiful conjunx still took one look at him and reached out his servo to wipe away his tears. Blitzwing looked at him like the day they first met.

His mech was still so love with him and Bee couldn’t have been happier.

He felt he jinxed their happiness because it wasn’t long before they were nearing the end of the war that a deadly raid took place.

Carriers were kidnapped, sparklings were offlined, mechs were losing their processors at the loss of their families and the extricating cut off of their bonds.

He knew Megatron still had a spark somewhere left in there because he ordered a retreat and took to the front lines and was the last to board the ship. Whoever he could take he did.

But by then it was too late.

Majority of the sparklings were gone.

The carriers were all offline from the loss of their sparklings or being killed. Sires sparks had given out due to the pain and he was held by high command kept in a tight grip assumed to be a prisoner made to do servant labor.

He remembers the feeling of his spark flickering at watching the ship leave and the battles to come. Blitzwing was his worst trying to get to him. Find any clue of him before being declared too dangerous and wild by Megatron of all bots.

They would send small search parties for him but eventually after the all spark was launched, they stopped.

And Bee was left to autobot command.

Where they eventually put him with a new designation and in bot camp.

Sure he met Bulkhead and they became friends but it wasn’t…life was not the same. Not without his conjunx.

He missed him.

Terribly, every day.

The others knew something was up but not what.

They figured he was too young to have experienced any real pain in life and he hated it. But he didn’t want to expose himself when the elite guard specifically threatened that his former identity not be known.

So he kept his dermas shut, not that his team could tell with his happy go lucky personality, he played his role and part and would then go off looking to the stars hoping for his spark to be out there, alive and well.

He got his wish in the form of two craters in the city of Detroit.

One he remembers being Lugnut who immediately recognized him and thankfully kept quiet and the other, his spark.

Who thankfully sprung into action taking him far from the fight as Lugnut easily handled the others and kept them around him to give the two of them time as Blitzwing soared to the sky shouting incoherent words between all three of his faces while Bee cried tears of joy and screams of pain, relief, agony at being apart for so long and pure happiness at feeling the thrum of his conjunx’s spark swirling in tandem before plunging into his.

His spark soared the skies in a mating dance he readily accepted and trusted without a second thought.

Chirping and cooing with a rev of his engine to a pop of his door wings revealing them in a wing dance of acceptance that made Blitzwing plunge dive. It left Bee a squealing mess of laughter and carefree excitement he hadn’t felt since the day he last raced his love back on their home planet.

They both knew their time was limited.

Bee rushed to kiss his conjunx telling him the words he so desperately needed to say, “I love you,” before his audials heard the most beautiful voice box say it back.

“And I, love you,” his spark always knew how to touch him with words alone.

So long apart yet this wasn’t a stranger before him.

The same Blitzwing he met on the battlefield all those stellar cycles ago. The same Blitzwing who became a triple changer and would try to comfort him even though Bee wasn’t the one in pain. This very same mech who would hand feed him in his lap just because he wanted to take care of him. This very same mech who wanted to shield him from the horrors the best he could during the war. This mech, his mech, whose spark sang for him as they touched helms and became one so easily, after all this time.

This was the same mech he would risk life and limb for without a moments hesitation.

Their many late night meetings on Earth, before the decepticons were captured and brought back to Cybertron, raced through his mind as he snuck into the lower deck of the ship and waited until the coast was clear.

Tears in his optics, servos shaking and spark breaking at the sight of his love who sneered.

So big and strong, even while in so much pain.

He couldn’t help but sniffle and try to silence it before stepping to into the dim flickering light that made red optics more beautiful than they should be in this moment.

“Mein hummel.”

Those optics always beheld the stars when looking at him and he could only hope to do them justice.

“We’re getting out of here,” he kissed, pressing his helm to his beloveds. Servo transforming into a blade Bee cut through the chains as quickly and quietly as he could. Watching his conjunx flick his wings and stretch his frame before scooping him up and making quick work to take the corridors Bee used to sneak inside.

They were halfway free when the alarm rang but by then, it was too late.

“I came prepared,” Bee smiled.

Blurr stood with Shockwave at his side, the one optic con holding most of Blurrs weight as the healing former agent nodded towards them and motioned for them to leave.

Shockwave carried the mech as he ran for it. Blitzwing did the same and Bee made sure to use his arm canon, his original weapon given by his love, to cave in the doorways they passed.

All too soon they were outside making their way into a ship that was rushed to the skies and dodging blaster fire.

Bee could see his former team watching the ship fly away in betrayal and hurt before looking away.

He would never pick them over his spark but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

A servo on his shoulder and he looked to see Blurr shaking his helm.

“Don’t linger, it’ll make it worse.”

Nothing else was said after that.

For once Blurr didn’t talk at the speed of light and Bee had nothing to say.

He burrowed into his spark mate who gripped him tight covering his frame and in return Bee shielded Blitzwing’s spark.

Laying his helm over the shielded thrumming orb of life, he pressed a kiss to it.

And his love helped hide him from the world just as he needed.

-

I love this ship.

If you have any asks about them go ahead my inbox is always open. Hope everyone enjoys this.

This post inspired me

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

romance tropes ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

hp boys x reader (harry potter, ron weasley, fred weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, tom riddle) backtrack: “daydreamin’”, ariana grande inspiration: tropes are just fun

harry potter

secret relationship

harry hugged a friend and ended up on the front page of the newspaper for it. now, granted, that was because that absolute piece of sh rita skeeter was stalking him. but it doesn’t change the fact that harry is like an actual celebrity. and it’s not like he’s an attention seeker or likes having eyes on him at all times, and he hates it when other people get dragged because of him. so he’d place a lot of importance on hiding your relationship to protect you.

first love

harry in the books just gives naive, first love energy. he’s not used to actually being liked by people, and the concept of dating was foreign to him until like third or fourth year anyway. he’d most likely be nervous and awkward around you at the start of the relationship, and you’d go through many little arguments and larger trials. but if you can work it out and stay with each other, you will find that your love is like the view at the top of a mountain--well worth the climb.

ron weasley

friends to lovers

maybe this is subtly influenced by his canon romance with hermione, but I feel like ron is so defined by his loyalty and his “being a good friend” that being friends with him is a crucial predecessor to becoming his partner for life. he notices good looks just as much as any teenage boy would, but for him to really develop a connection with his soulmate, he needs to get to know them too. ron’s best friend is his soulmate, and his soulmate is nothing short of his best friend.

fake relationship

ron pretends to get into a relationship because his mother is always on him about when he’s going to finally get a partner. pretty self-explanatory. he gets teased relentlessly about it by his siblings--even they don’t know it’s fake--and he’s constantly apologizing about you having to always go over to his house and talk to his family. but you love his family, so you don’t mind. and after a few months of awkward hand holding and family dinners, you start to love ron too.

fred weasley

best friend's brother / brother's best friend

honestly, these tropes are similar. you spend a lot of time around each other when you’re young. at first you just think he’s cute and funny, but as you start seeing each other more, you find yourself constantly thinking about him. and he’s thinking about you too, but he knows you’re supposed to be off limits. when you start hanging out together, alone, you’re initially both opposed to the idea of being in a relationship. but after gathering up the courage to ask your best friend / brother and receiving some grudging approval, you get together.

unrequited love

I debated between ron and fred for this trope (maybe it’s just the weasley family, I’m sorry but they’re so awkward and nervous around their crushes, absolutely no game). fred has had his eyes on you forever. when you were younger he’d constantly ask you out; and you’d reject him every time, thinking he was always joking or pranking you. but when you’re in your fifth year he tries again, one more time; and when you meet him in the courtyard like he requested he has a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. his face is bright red as he gives them to you, and you can’t resist teasing him a little before finally agreeing to date him.

draco malfoy

arranged marriage

this is the trope that started this post. draco’s parents find him a suitable partner to marry, and at first you start off kind of awkward and distant around each other. but then something in the wall cracks, and you start to open up more and more. soon polite touches and awkward glances become genuine laughter and instinctive hand-holding. and next thing you know, an unbreakable bond is formed.

forbidden love

draco’s got a reputation to uphold. the malfoy family has a reputation to uphold. and maybe this is wishful thinking and idealizing his character, but I like to think that he wouldn’t care about his soulmate’s blood status if you have a true connection. initially, you sneak glances at each other during classes. these glances turn into short notes handed subtly to each other while in the hallways or in the dining hall. these notes turn into brief meetings in the library or the courtyard where nobody can see you. there’s no need to showcase your relationship. and draco wouldn’t mind keeping your meetings secret for a little while longer. besides, there’s something about meeting secretly and knowing you’re not supposed to be together that gives him an adrenaline rush like nothing else. I don’t know. I mean, in canon he married astoria greengrass, who wasn’t a part of the “true” pure blood line, so I’m hoping he’d be willing to go a step further. I don’t know. maybe this trope would be a better fit for sirius.

cedric diggory

childhood marriage pact

this is so cute. imagine baby cedric and baby you rolling around in grassy hills, looking up at the stars sprinkled across the night sky. on one of these nights, cedric asks you if you think you’ll get married. you say you don’t know, and cedric offers to marry you. you hold an impromptu wedding, with cedric grabbing a dandelion and dramatically getting down on one knee in front of you. you dramatically gasp and say yes, and proclaim your love for him. little did the two of you know that many years later, you’d be reliving your childhood memories as you walk down the aisle. (because cedric definitely doesn’t die and you graduate hogwarts together and get married and live happily ever after.)

grumpy x sunshine

cedric is the sunshine. that's it. that's it.

remus lupin

love at first sight

remus had never been interested in dating until you. you were the first person who could capture his attention better than his books could. the marauders are walking through the courtyard one day while you’re sitting on a bench with your favorite book in hand. you look up as they pass and lock eyes with remus. immediately his face lights up a little as he gives you a shy smile, an instant connection and spark forming between you. (is this a trope I desperately wanted to give to cedric because cedric is my absolute favorite? yes. do I regret giving it to remus? no.)

secret admirer / love letters

remus was so shy as a kid, he could never gather up the courage to chase his crush like sirius or james would. so he could only admire you from afar, a dreamy smile on his face as he props his head up on his fist. he wants to find some way to confess to you, but he could never do it in person. suddenly he’s struck with a stroke of genius, and the next day when you come down to breakfast your owl delivers to you an unassuming letter with a dried, pressed flower on it. the letter is written in perfect cursive, the black ink standing out on the yellowed paper. it’s from a secret admirer, and reading the depth of his feelings makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. you want to know who it is so badly, but they leave no hints as the days pass. your owl brings you new letters every day and sometimes little presents. soon you start writing back, begging him to tell you who he is. after a few months of this back and forth, remus finally gathers up the courage to meet you in the owlery. when you realize it’s him, you’re giddy, immediately giving him a hug that makes his eyes widen and his face flush red. needless to say, you’re happy with who your secret admirer is.

sirius black

second chance romance

you and sirius had a thing when you were in school, but it never went anywhere. it could have, as after you graduated you were spending a lot of time together. but everything went wrong when sirius was framed for the potters’ murders. he was suddenly whisked away to azkaban, and you had never felt so confused. you know sirius couldn’t have done something so cruel, but you have no idea who could have actually done it, and you’re not allowed any contact with him now that he’s in prison. when he escaped, you had no idea that the first person he’d come looking for was you. it took time, patience, and respect to rebuild your relationship, but soon you grew close and rekindled that flame that maybe once was there. it wasn’t easy getting together, but throughout all the trials and tribulations, your love for each other remained constant.

bad boy x good girl

sirius is sirius, and you’re more like remus. he loves how studious you are; he hates studying, despite being extremely naturally skilled at magic. when he first approaches you, you turn him down; you know exactly the type of guy sirius is, and it’s two words: bad news. but he keeps persisting, and he knows exactly how to turn on the charm and get you out of your shell. the first time he sneaks you out to the shrieking shack, you’re terrified, but sirius warns you to keep it a secret. you always just thought he was a classic playboy, but sirius proves you wrong. he protects you and takes care of you before anyone else, even himself; he genuinely cares about you, and you are so, so glad you decided to give him a chance.

james potter

enemies to lovers

the classic. it’s not my favorite trope, but come on. it’s so james potter coded. this might also be unconsciously influenced by his canon romance with lily, but young james was such a shitty guy that it’d be hard to like him. you’re not even enemies, per se, but you don’t respect him. that is, until something happens that draws you two together; maybe you’re on the quidditch team together, maybe you’re on opposing quidditch teams and you catch the snitch before him, maybe you’re paired up together for a project. but you start to feel grudging respect toward each other, and before long it turns your rivalry into a friendly competition. and not long after that, your friendly competition turns into flirting and fleeting shared laughs and touches. and the whole world watches as you fall in love. (side note: girlfriend effect is real with james.)

forced proximity

all the “seven minutes in heaven with a harry potter boy” quizzes come to life with this one. you’re at a marauders party when someone suggests a game of seven minutes in heaven. you draw a snitch out of the bag, and next thing you know you and james are shoved in the closet together. it’s uncomfortably small, and you’re pretty much pressed up against each other. nobody knows exactly what went on between the two of you in that closet, but when you walk out together, james’s tie is a little crooked. and the next day, you’re a couple.

tom riddle

star-crossed lovers

poor you and tom. you could’ve been a love for the ages, meeting at hogwarts and quickly becoming attracted to each other. tom’s so charming, handsome and intelligent that he quickly sweeps you off his feet. but there’s something in his eyes that makes you a little uneasy. sometimes tom gets a look of terrifying fury on his face; his eyes go cold and unemotional, and it makes you nervous. you know tom can be possessive, a little overboard with his anger sometimes (a bit of a red flag, if you will). you can only hope nothing happens to him. you love him, you think he loves you too, and you don’t want anything to tear you apart. unfortunately, tom’s anger outweighs his love for you, and you’re forced to watch your lover turn into a cruel, twisted monster.

time travel love

every time I think of this I have to remind myself that harry potter isn’t a k drama, it’s a fantasy. but who says I can’t combine the two? I feel like I’ve read this in a fanfiction, but I really can’t remember where it’s from: in order to save tom riddle from becoming voldemort, you go back in time (whether accidentally or on purpose) and encounter the dark lord when he was still a teenager. and despite you knowing what he becomes, and knowing what you’re supposed to do, you can’t help but start to fall for his wit and charm. if you play your cards right, you might just be able to help tom wake up and walk away from his evil desires. and let’s hope you can play your cards right, because if anything happens to you or you walk away from him, voldemort will unleash hell.

divider by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @raysmayhem-72

[omgrachwrites]

One of The Lads - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: swearing and fluff!!

Request: Could I get au number 8, for secret relationship with Sirius black and female reader? Where maybe they’re only secret because she’s like the pet of the friend group to everyone with how like silly she is and no one really expected the 2 of them, lots of fluff please 🙏 and only if you want to ofc, take it easy and don’t rush! Thank you for consideringggg🧡🧡 - @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

A/N: Thanks so much for requesting love! I hope everyone enjoys, I love you all very much! xxx

It was a wet and dreary day in October, the enchanted ceiling overhead was exceptionally dull with dark grey clouds floating in the centre, that looked to burst at any moment. The bad weather seemed to have an impact on some of the Hogwarts students, not you though, you loved weather like this.

Although long, summer days were glorious, sometimes you yearned for the cold weather when you could wrap up in your fluffy coat and scarf. Weather where you could all rush to Hogsmeade, finding shelter and warmth in a corner The Three Broomsticks, laughing and joking over a pint of Butterbeer before wandering back to the castle in the dark, you way lit only by a couple of streetlamps.

Remus tried to give you an unimpressed look but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried not to laugh when another marshmallow hit him between the eyes, “Jesus, Y/N! You’re the best seeker that we’ve had in years, how can you not land a marshmallow in a giant mug,” he laughed as he gestured to his enormous mug of hot chocolate.

You pulled a face at him, “I can catch things well enough, I just can’t throw them,” you proved your statement as you lobbed another marshmallow and it completely missed its mark as it flew past Remus’ shoulder and hit someone on the back of their head.

“What’s going on here?” Sirius laughed as he finally joined the breakfast table, “it looks like a marshmallow factory has exploded,” his voice was rough from sleep and his hair was a little messy as he ran a hand through it.

You were momentarily speechless as you gazed up at him, your mouth slightly open, in your opinion he looked the most handsome after just waking up. You and Sirius had been dating for a couple of months. In complete secret. You had even hidden it from your best friends, not for any malicious reasons of course, you didn’t know how they would take it. Dating within the friendship was some sort of forbidden unspoken rule.

“Y/N, is being a pain in the arse,” Remus grinned at you.

You gasped, pretending to be offended, “I’m a delight.”

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked at his best friend, “she can’t get a marshmallow into my mug, embarrassing really,” he joked, immediately contradicting his words as a marshmallow soared into the mug, making a tiny splash.

James, who had been watching let out a weak cheer, “finally. That was fucking painful to watch,” he smirked as you gave him the finger.

Sirius grinned at you as he sat next to you, his little finger linking with yours, his way of saying I love you when he couldn’t say it out loud. You smiled back as you linked your fingers together.

As you, Remus and Sirius walked down to Potions, you could see James once again, trying his hardest to chat up Lily Evans. To be fair, this year she seemed to hate him less, James’ head had really deflated in size and he was much more likeable. Lily caught your eye over James shoulder and she rolled her eyes with a grin before trying to look like she was interested in whatever James was saying.

You smirked at the couple, wanting to get James back for what he said at breakfast, and you did just that. Taking your wand from the inside of your robes you subtly pointed it at James’ bag, muttering a spell. A quiet ripping noise and a louder crash echoed through the corridors of the dungeons as the seams on James’ bag was pulled apart and his belongings went crashing to the floor. James let out a very high pitched yelp as he scrambled to pick his stuff up, his glasses falling down his nose and his cheeks flushing.

Your face must have given you away because he shook his head and slung an arm over your shoulders as you all walked into the classroom. He glared at you but when he spoke you could hear the laughter in his voice.

“That was so mean.”

You laughed as you looked up at him, “you still love me though, right?”

He groaned “yes, I do,” he replied reluctantly.

More of your silliness ensued while you were making your potion, you were all brewing an Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Unfortunately, it seemed as though you had put in too much of one ingredient and not enough of another, which resulted in the effects being too strong, reducing you and your friend Alice into fits of silent giggles. Slughorn looked up at you both, shaking his head.

Finally, it came to yours and Sirius’ free period so you were sitting down at the deserted boat house, Sirius was sitting behind you with his arms wrapped around you as he placed sweet kisses on your cheek. You hummed as you leaned back into him and you felt him smile against your skin. There was nothing but the sound of the howling wind and the rippling of the water before Sirius spoke up.

“I want to tell people we’re dating.”

You tensed up in his arms and glanced at him over your shoulder to find him grinning at you but his grey eyes held a look of vulnerability, “you do?”

“Yeah, I know you’re not big on the idea.”

You sighed, “I want to tell people Sirius, I do,” you hesitated, “but I mean, I’m not exactly your type am I?”

Sirius frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows, “you’re beautiful, smart and funny. Exactly my type,” he kissed you gently.

You flushed at his words as you fiddled with the ring that he wore on his thumb, “everyone sees me as just ‘one of the lads’ though, they’d be weirded out if they found out we were together.”

“Our friends would want us to be happy, Y/N.”

You knew he was right, of course he was right. You guys had the best friends in the whole world who would be happy for you. Finally, you nodded, “okay. Let’s tell them.”

After classes were over, you both walked into the dormitory, hand in hand and found your friends sitting by the fire, “we have to tell you guys something,” Sirius spoke up.

Remus smirked as he pointed at your joined hands, “is it something to do with that?” his words caused you and Sirius to exchange a look.

James’ eyes widened slightly, “wow, I never would have thought of you guys as a couple,” your face dropped at James’ words and you exchanged another nervous look with Sirius.

“What do you mean by that?” you whispered, bracing yourself.

“Well, he’s infuriating enough as a best friend, never mind a boyfriend. You’re a saint, Y/N,” James joked and you let out a relived sigh, “I’m really happy for you guys.”

“Me too,” Remus grinned as Sirius turned to give you a little kiss.

“C’mon, I snuck into the kitchens and stole some Firewhiskey, let’s celebrate,” James picked up a bottle of amber liquid, shaking it with a suggestive look on his face.

[zriasstuff]

Friends- Blaise Zabini x reader

Fluff drabble, post-break up reconciliation <3

It’s been two weeks since your break up with Blaise already, and honestly when you saw him, you still felt a sting in your heart. It didn’t work out in the end because both of you couldn’t manage to communicate with each other, and as lazy of an excuse it may sound like, it was true. Towards the end of your relationship you barely talked with each other anymore. It was as if you were even less than friends. Perhaps you were never meant to be in a romantic relationship after all because functioning couples would probably try harder to stay together.

But you couldn’t even manage that, instead you grew apart. The only time you’d see each other was class and every time you guys even made remote eye contact, it turned awkward for both of you.

Besides classes quidditch was always and still is a common ground. Blaise was obviously known for being a great beater and you for being a talented chaser, whose role is also substitute seeker. During training you still caught yourself secretly staring at him, but it was all in a harmless manner. Innerly you wish you’d still be friends, after all he was an incredibly caring and sensible person, yet some things just don’t work out, no matter how much you want them to. And neither one of you made the effort to rebuild a friendship. Or rather, you knew that you lacked the courage to take the first step.

Right now you should probably take your mind off of Blaise though and focus on the big game on Saturday against Gryffindor. Draco had gotten himself into the hospital wing due to a stupid leg injury caused by juvenile fighting, so winning the game as seeker should be your primary focus…

*time skip*

“HOW COULD YOU NOT SEE THE SNITCH?”

“ARE YOU BLOODY BLIND?!?”

“GREAT, WHAT AN AMAZING IDEA IT WAS TO HAVE YOU PLAYING AS SUBSTITUTE”

Your team-mates were yelling at you from every direction possible. As you already established, some things, as much as you want them to work out, oftentimes just don’t. Sometimes you wondered how it was possible that whenever you wanted something badly, it never seemed to work out in the end.

Feeling tears already forming in your eyes, you can only mutter out a pathetic sorry and run away from everything. It’s incredibly unfair to you. They were acting like you were the entire reason you lost, just because you weren’t completely focused. Even if you didn’t play your best, it wasn’t only your fault, and it’s supposed to be a team effort anyway. Still, no matter what you try to console yourself with, you still feel like crap.

During times like these, funnily enough, Blaise would probably be a great comfort to you, you think to yourself. In those times when you did communicate, Blaise knew how to cheer you up the best. Drowning in your despair, you didn’t even notice how much time had passed until you suddenly heard an all too familiar voice.

“I knew I’d find you here”, the voice echoes down to you.

Your heart stops for a second. Almost electrified. Hurriedly, you wipe away your tears.

“B- Blaise? What are you doing here?”

Hopefully you didn’t sound and look too distraught. Did he follow you?

“Whenever you’re upset, you come to this tree in the forbidden forest”

He sat down next to you, and before you could pull back he embraced you for a hug. Subconsciously your first reaction is to cling onto him. You feel his strong arms wrap around you so lovingly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. All it took was one genuine, caring moment, and most of the awkwardness had faded away. No one in so long has been this familiar and comforting.

“You know, even though we’re not technically on speaking terms, I still care about you right? I just didn’t know if you still wanted to have anything to do with me”

“Of course I do, and thank you”, you sniffle. It was indescribably how much weight lifted off your shoulders in that exact moment.

“So, wanna start over as friends?”

“I would love that”

Apparently, a crappy quidditch game was all it took for one of the best people you know to be in your life again. And that “friends” term seemed good. At least for now…

[eljeebee]

A Brush with Death

Lady Lenora found an interesting thing in their mailbox. Ambrosia Society Newsletter. Ambrosia. It sounds familiar to her. In fact, she saw the word written a few times in her old journals that she started to read when not doing her curator work.

Along with the newsletter was a gardening book. She gathered their remaining mail, quietly dropped them on her sister’s desk, before taking a seat on her favorite armchair. She found it boring, as if she knew gardening already, but she continued to still flip through it.

Closing it, she read the newsletter.

Ambrosia. Food for the gods and the dead. Learn how to make one for you or your loved ones! This is the first lootbox for this season, read the book well! It’s not easy getting the right ingredients so the lootboxes will guide you! Thank you for subscribing to the Ambrosia Society Newsletter.

“I have never subscribed to this newsletter,” Lenora mumbled.

This ambrosia though, she thought, this sounds familiar.

Lenora went back to her sister’s office. Lady Lana immediately paused her work when she saw her sitting down. Smiling, she said, “Hello, Nora.”

“Lana,” Lenora says, “Do you know what an ambrosia is?”

She noticed how Lana’s face slightly dropped, before schooling her face. With an arched eyebrow and a smile, Lana said, “Why are you asking about ambrosia? What is that for? Do you still feel pain? Shall I call Vladislaus?”

Lenora smiled a little, shaking her head. “No, sister. I was just curious. I’ve seen it from my old books.”

“Well, do be careful. You must tell me if you’re hurting.”

She went upstairs. Truth be told, she doesn’t know why she’s curious about this thing. She could’ve just sought the answers in her old journals, but the thing is, they’re missing important pages. Either Lana ripped them, or she did it herself.

Lenora knocked before entering Percival’s room. He took a quick glance to Lenora before hitting one last hit against his punching bag.

“What’s up?”

“Do you know what an ambrosia is?” Nora asked.

He raised his brow then chuckled. “What the fuck is an ambrosia??”

Lenora sighed.

Percy cleared his throat. “Sorry. No idea. Maybe Val knows?”

She nodded. “Carry on, little Percy.”

He shrugged, before returning to his fighting stance.

Lenora knocked on the door beside Percy’s room.

“Come in!”

Valentina sat in front of her computer. She quickly typed something before looking at her visitor. “Lenora.”

“Cousin.” Lenora nodded.

“Is something the matter? Were you having trouble again with that broker? We can give his item back – I know someone who has another collection of the jewelry for your client.” Valentina was about to start typing again when Lenora shook her head and gently held her shoulder.

“I took care of that. The broker won’t open his mouth again,” Lenora smiled. “Do you know what an ambrosia is?”

“I do know it, why?”

Lenora raised her gaze through Valentina’s windows. “I saw it in my old notes. It seems important. I want to investigate why.”

Valentina thought for a moment. “I heard it is food for the dead; mortals seek it – to avoid Death. I don’t know…it’s not something we should take lightly. The mages and the spellcasters forbade its use in our time. I remember those two people, who called themselves the Seekers, punishing those who abuse the use of ambrosia.”

“I see…”

“Are you going…”

“Of course not, cousin,” Lenora smiled. “Thank you.”

Returning to her room, Lenora sat on her bed. She wanted to burn her old journal – why keep it if it’s going to be useless?

Perhaps she could search for it through her phone? Would there be any information for something forbidden? Lenora thought, this wouldn’t be easy –

Ah, the wonders of the internet. Apparently, it’s not forbidden there.

“It can bring a loved one back to life,” Lenora read. She hummed.

From her old belongings, Lenora found her séance table and a gramophone. Percy helped her get it inside her room. She wanted it to put it on auction, but her withered gut tells her not to, especially the gramophone. She knows it’s no ordinary gramophone.

“Hmm…I think it goes like this…”

Lenora found herself reciting a poem. She blinked. What was that poem? She doesn’t even remember that she knows that poem!

Her senses picked up something from behind her. A shadow. It felt familiar.

“I know you. You wanted to meet your death once,” the shadow says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I also don’t recall that poem I’ve recited. I assume that was to summon you, Death?”

“Hmm,” Death’s grim voice reverberated. “You are in search of ambrosia. Neither of us no longer remember what it is, but I know that it throws the living and the dead off balance. Continue investigating. I shall come back.”

Death vanished.

She took a moment to stare at the empty space Death had left, before returning her gaze to the séance table.

Would the spirits know what ambrosia is?

Lenora had surprised herself again when she learned she knew how to do séance. She mumbled chants. The lights flickered. A fire the color of teal burst above the table. It burned floating. Then, it formed a ring, like a halo.

The spirits whispered to her.

Ambrosia? Will you share? Yes? Listen well, this is what you need…

When the spirits were gone, Lenora sat for a moment. She brought out her phone and ordered some flower seeds.

The next day, Lenora brought in the empty planters they had in her room. There, she planted a lily and a snapdragon.

This must be why a person must be skilled in gardening to make ambrosia. Lenora thought.

[shiyorin]

Time to silly headcanon

Primarchs but they are in Hogwarts Au

Because everyone need Hogwarts au :v

Lion El'Jonson 

Top marks in everything but has a resting bitch face

Secretly a big softie but acts aloof

Skips class to nap in the forest

Once stupefied a professor but claims it was an accident

They think he is Slytherin but he is Gryffindor

Fulgrim

Slytherin prefect, always flawlessly styled hair and robes

Always changing hair and outfit more than Luna Lovegood

Hosts lavish potions parties in the Room of Requirement

Already opened a beauty salon in Hogsmeade on weekends

Perturabo

Ravenclaw but always in detention for arguing with teachers

Could single handedly build a new Hogwarts over summer

Always scribbling dark fortress designs instead of notes

Enchanted the suits of armor to attack people who irritate him

Jaghatai Khan

Always late to class because racing brooms in the halls 

Sends letters via hawk instead of owl

Hufflepuff seeker, fastest broom in the game

Enchanted his motorcycle to fly

Leman Russ

Gryffindor team captain, chill dude until someone mentions Slytherin

Parties in the Forbidden Forest weekly

On a first name basis with the giant squid

Sneaks hip flask of firewhiskey into class

Rogal Dorn

Hufflepuff prefect, stickler for the rules  

Enchanted the suits of armor as a personal army

Constructed multiple secret bases around campus

Reported Peeves to the headmistress at least weekly

Konrad Curze

Not actually a student, caretaker is convinced he's a ghost

Lurks in shadows muttering about "justice"

Won't stop leaving creepy notes in people's bags

Has never been seen in daylight

Sanguinius 

Gryffindor seeker and favorite student of professors

Runs free tutoring for anyone struggling in class

Tries to help everyone even if they’re mean to him

Secretly a vampire but hasn't told anyone yet

Ferrus Manus

Technically should be in Ravenclaw but hangs with Gryffindors

Top of the Transfiguration class

Always transfigures things by accident when angry

Stockpiles spare parts in the Room of Requirement

Angron

Kicked out of every class for flying into homicidal rages 

Secretly takes care of magical creatures in the forest

Pranks people by putting curses on bludgers

Weekly visits to St. Mungo's due to "outbursts"

Why is he Hufflepuff???

Roboute Guilliman

Head Boy and Ravenclaw prefect patrols the halls excessively 

Top marks in every class and pays attention except Prophesy

Binds rule books to smack people who break curfew 

Daily schedules include color-coded classes and chores

Mortarion 

Constantly skipping herbology to smoke strange plants out back 

This Slytherin always smells like a wet grave and fungi

Hoards Doxys and bowtruckles in the damper closets 

Enchanted his robes to be self-cleaning but they’re still grimy

Magnus the Red

Runs the wizard chess club and gobstones club

Has a psychic duel with Professor Trelawney weekly 

Secretly teaching advanced magic to other houses in the Room of Requirement

Uses crystal balls to gaze into the future of quidditch matches

Somehow became the most hated Ravenclaw

Horus Lupercal

Charismatic Gryffindor prefect and heir to Dumbeldore

Talented chaser who carries the quidditch cups every year

Top marks but still finds time for partying with Slytherins

Already has several Hogsmeade businesses lined up for after graduation

Lorgar Aurelian

Runs Slytherin religious cult meetings in the Forbidden Forest

Always gets plucked from class for excessive proselytizing 

Has enchanted murals all over the school of super holy scenes

Constantly blessing other students whether they want it or not

Vulkan

Hufflepuff chaser, always lets the snitch go 

Best at Care of Magical Creatures, even the dangerous ones love him

Secretly bakes the best cookies in the kitchens 

Constantly in the hospital wing due to "potions accidents"

Corvus Corax

Introverted Ravenclaw, knows all the hidden passages

Best student in Defense Against the Dark Arts

Skips classes to research advanced transfiguration

Owl delivery? Nah he climbs in your window

Alpharius/Omegon

No one knows if they're the same person or twins   

Always seen disappearing around corners and through secret passages

Top marks in Potions but no one knows which one is which

Pranks people by polyjuicing as other students

[iamnmbr3]

for a character jkr hate draco does seem to have a lot of impact if he did wind up dead during the sectumsempra scene then it will affect snape too because of the unbreakable vow which means that voldemort would definitely get the elder wand and narcissa wouldn't even think of saving harry and lie that he is dead

I KNOW! Draco has had a HUGE impact on Harry's arc. He and Harry are present for most of each other's critical moments and both have a huge influence on each other's lives. The degree to which their narratives are intertwined is insane.

Draco is there the first time Harry meets Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest. He's the reason Harry becomes a Seeker. He's the reason Harry first successfully casts a Patronus. Harry witnesses Draco's pivotal moment on the Astronomy Tower. Harry is the reason Draco is assigned to kill Dumbledore in the first place. It's because of Harry that the Vanishing Cabinet is broken and also because of him that Draco finds out about the Room of Requirement. Draco risks everything to buy Harry time to escape at the Manor.

Harry defeats Voldemort in the end with Draco's wand using the same spell that Draco used against Dumbledore which only works because of Draco's previous use of that spell and the affect it had on wand ownership.

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. There are SO MANY overlaps and parallels. Their stories are inextricably intertwined and so many of the things that happen to them and the choices they make are influenced by their relationship with each other and by each other's actions.