#black lion wings

[amiharana]

totk should have been about reviving the champions and then finding the secret fifth divine beast that link & zelda pilot together in order to create an overpowered sheikah voltron and then they battle against ganondorf's demise voltron to save hyrule

#amihan's shitposts #loz #botw #totk #loz botw #loz totk #legend of zelda #or maybe there should be 6 divine beasts #so that link can be the 'right arm' that forms the sword #daruk can be the 'left arm' that forms the shield #urbosa and mipha can be the legs #revali is the wings. original voltron's wings came from the black lion but i do not care! #zelda's divine beast would be analogous to shiro & the black lion since she's the leader #so basically revalink = kla— [gets shot multiple times] #nah but the lack of continuity between botw and totk throws me off so bad #Voltron: Legendary Zelda

[plethoraworldatlas]

The U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Wildlife Services reported killing 375,045 native animals in 2023, according to recent data released by the program. The federal wildlife-killing program targets wolves, coyotes, cougars, birds and other wild animals, primarily to benefit the agriculture industry in states like Texas, Colorado and Idaho.

According to the report, the multimillion-dollar program last year intentionally killed 305 gray wolves, 68,562 coyotes, 430 black bears, 235 mountain lions, 469 bobcats, 2,122 red and gray foxes and 24,603 beavers. These figures almost certainly understate the actual number of animals killed, as program insiders have long lamented that Wildlife Services kills many more animals than it reports.

“I’m horrified by both the sheer number of animals killed by this federal agency and the immense suffering involved,” said Collette Adkins, carnivore conservation director at the Center for Biological Diversity. “It’s hard to even imagine the thousands of coyotes, beavers and other animals who die agonizing deaths from snares, traps or poisons.”

The reported number of native animals killed in 2023 was similar to the previous three years. These recent numbers reflect a steep decline compared to 2019, when approximately 1.3 million native animals were killed. The red-winged blackbird is an example of a species with fewer individuals intentionally killed by Wildlife Services, with 14,314 killed in 2023 compared to 364,734 in 2019.

According to the new data, the wildlife-killing program unintentionally killed more than 2,484 animals in 2023, including 658 river otters and 428 turtles, as well as several dogs and cats. Its killing of nontarget birds included a federally protected golden eagle, wood ducks, great blue herons and wild turkeys. Such data reveals the indiscriminate nature of leghold traps, snares, poisons and other methods used by federal agents.

Wildlife Services poisoned 6,543 animals using M-44 cyanide bombs in 2023. Of these deaths, 156 were unintentional. The Bureau of Land Management recently banned Wildlife Services from using these dangerous devices on the land it manages.

“Year after year, millions of dollars are wasted on killing wildlife instead of investing in long-term solutions that prevent conflicts,” said Adkins. “Taxpayer-funded wildlife slaughter lets livestock operators and the agriculture industry ignore problems that lead to conflict instead of fixing them. Wildlife Services should focus on implementing commonsense coexistence measures like cleaning up livestock carcasses that attract wolves and bears.”

#ecology #enviromentalism #let wolves live #wolves #coyote #cougars #black bears #mountain lion #bobcat #red fox #gray fox #beaver #wildlife #wildlife conservation #wildlife services #Fuck Wildlife Services #trapping #Poisoning #red winged blackbird #river otter #Turtles #dog #cat #industrial agriculture #agribusiness #cattle industry #ranching #Ranching lobby #hunting lobby #endangered species

[whats-in-a-sentence]

They felt the Specters go by them like a cold wind and they felt the ground shake beneath them under the galloping feet of the Minotaurs; and overhead there went a flurry of foul wings and a blackness of vultures and giant bats.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" - C. S. Lewis

#book quotes #the chronicles of narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #c s lewis #specters #cold wind #shaking ground #galloping #minotaurs #flurry #wings #blackness #vultures #giant bats #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie

[eucanthos]

ευcanthos

Karstic Pace

_

Horse torso, Archaic Period 500 BC. (lower leg part is a modern restoration). Found east of the Erechtheion in 1887. Acropolis museum collection

https://www.theacropolismuseum.gr/en/statue-horse

Pheidias: Horse of Selene, Parthenon Frieze, 438-432 B.C 

Herb Ritts: Djimon Three Quarter Nude Back View 1989 [arm+torso]

Cicada wings

Julia SH: moving no.2 in b/w [deconstructed]

Shaun Leane: 1998 Skeleton corset for Alexander McQueen [tail]

Ashwin Mehta: Gifts of Solitude, 1990 [landscape]

Lion French Foot 17-18th c.

#eucanthos #collage #Acropolis #elgin marbles #Athens #horse #museum #black #fashion #Ashwin Mehta #Rock #lion #wings

[vaguelydcwnwards]

;; honestly love the dichotomy of tfp scream and es scream in my head. tfp starscream in my brain is all drama and flair with his toxicity paired hand in hand with a Knifecat emoji. scheming and conniving the same way a black widow wearing one of those long, fluffy houserobes is.

then es starscream is (in his head) righteously angry. he still has that flare for the dramatic, but a lot of it is pettiness; if you're going to backstab him and the cause, then fine, he'll do it back to you, and he'll laugh in your face about it. he wants you to know exactly who's dragging you down and why exactly he's doing it. i imagine he's also more impulsive than tfp scream can be, much more emotionally driven (not to say tfp scream isn't emotionally driven, just that es scream is moreso).

#ooc ;; your enormous eyebags have captivated me #tfp starscream tag ;; in a coat of gold or a coat of red a lion still has claws #tfp starscream hc ;; loneliness moves in him crude and black #es starscream tag ;; i will not speak of your sins #es starscream hc ;; poverty comes to clip your wings #gen hc ;; you can hide a lot about yourself but honey what are you gonna do?

[destinyrose]

Out of morbid curiousity, has anyone written a lion shifter Voltron au? Because I think that’d be really fun. Like, imagine this:

Instead of a whole universe of planets and galaxies and whatnot, it’s just a singular planet, with towns/cities/countries and whatnot instead. Our dear Garrison trio are studying something military related (maybe) when Shiro, who had previously gone missing in the big mysterious forest near the village (Kerberos Forest? Still brainstorming), suddenly returns rambling something about magic and lions and catpeople. Cue a similar rescue to show with Keith showing up and being a badass to rescue them and they all escape to his cabin by the woods.

There they find out that Shiro was part of a team sent in to investigate this weird temple in the forest and his team, Pidge’s family, were taken by the temple monks(?) or something and Shiro got concussed on his way out and suddenly had a bunch of weird scars on his arm. In the obvious course of action, our team decides to go investigate and when they get to the temple, they find it relatively abandoned, and so off they go to explore. Then, Lance discovers a weird magic circle on the ground and, not knowing what it is, sits in it and is suddenly granted the ability to transform into The Blue Lion, an old lion god that protected the people with the rest of the Voltron Pantheon.

They discover him, transformed as The Blue Lion, kinda just messing around with stuff because why not, and then the rest of them are like, “we should probably go figure out why he’s like this and discover more about this Voltron Pantheon thing,” so they do. Letting Lance take the lead and listen to the voice of god in his head to direct them to the Voltron Temple, where they meet the Keepers of the Temple, Allura and Coran, who tell them that the rest of the team are also the Chosen Ones of the other Lion Gods.

I could go on for longer about this but I am tired and mostly incoherent. I am plenty willing to expand on this if I have the time, but I rewatched Voltron and saw the lions acting like real lions in that one scene where they meet Lotor for the first time and was struck with inspiration.

Have a good day/night

#voltron #vld fandom #lance voltron #keith voltron #shiro voltron #hunk voltron #pidge voltron #allura voltron #voltron coran #fanfic ideas strike at the strangest times #I’m so tired #I also just want to point out that the Black Lion will be the only one with a mane in this #I want the wings to translate somehow and that’s the best way #also the head of Voltron having a full head of hair is funny to me #I just want them to be funky little lion guys #is that too much to ask

[duskroots]

Penny finished Kessex Hills and not only did Anet reward her with a key for her hard work, they even dropped the jade wings for her too! Needless to say that she’s stoked (and so am I) so have some celebratory shots of the best girl and her shiny new wings! :>

#penelope goldfang #gw2 #after a very long dry spell of black lion chests only dropping regular stuff i get the skiff and wings in short succession i am v happy qq #aaaaaaaaaa

[rockatanskette]

So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.

Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.

One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.

"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"

Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.

"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.

"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.

"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"

"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."

Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"

"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."

Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.

#humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is space australia #tw monsterfucking

[loriache]

do you ever think about how delgal never blamed the winged lion for what happened to thistle?

I'll preface this by saying that he certainly COULD have done. most of the arguments that delgal had with thistle about returning the golden kingdom are off-page, and he doesn't seem to have relayed a lot of detail to yaad about how he understood thistle's behaviour.

however.

what we can infer, i think, is that if delgal blamed anything for thistle's increasingly erratic behaviour, it was the influence of "black magic" and power.

the winged lion is the golden kingdom's guardian deity, and that is how they understand it up to the present - including yaad. the prophecy that convinced delgal to leave the dungeon (which i assume the winged lion intended to use to attract another, more easily controllable, dungeon lord) is likely to be part of a long campaign the lion made of deliberately isolating thistle from the people of the golden kingdon and presenting itself as the victim.

we see that the lion is convincing, and keeps a facade of concern for thistle long past the point that it has any chance of winning him over - i don't have any doubt it was easy to present this narrative to the kingdom's people, including delgal.

but isn't it incredibly sad to think that the person who thistle trusted most in the world and did all of this for was unable to see the true victim, between him and the winged lion?

we see that very shortly upon becoming the dungeon lord, both marcille and laios become lost in their desires. this is standard.

Laios is only able to get through to marcille because he sees the root of her pain, and understands that ...

...the dungeon's power is evil.

thistle isn't acting rationally from the very beginning, but it is possible to reach him - if delgal could understand where his desire and his fear stemmed from, and that the winged lion is evil.

Thistle at least seems to know that the winged lion isn't to be trusted. Thus why he sealed it in the book. perhaps he picked up on what it was doing, manipulating the kingdom's people and him both.

But if he ever said that the winged lion was dangerous, not to be trusted, to delgal, he wasn't believed. to delgal, thistle sealed and misused the power of the golden kingdom's guardian deity. As a student of ancient magic, I believe thistle understands that isn't what the demon is - or at least not all of what it is - even if he doesn't know the details of why it's so dangerous, or that it can devour his desires. But as an 'outsider' to the golden kingdom, despite his (unofficial, i'm sure) adoption, and the fact he's been there most of his life, I doubt his saying so would be received well by the kingdom's people.

As far as we know delgal also doesn't understand the fear that is driving thistle's refusal to let the dungeon go -- the need to be useful that he instilled.

Even if he doesn't really realise, he is talking to a, at most, 15-16 year old in relative human years, and putting the responsibility for the kingdom on him - it's no wonder this is a weight that Thistle isn't able to let go of. Especially if this is how he attempts to persuade him:

It doesn't get to the root of why he asked thistle to do this to begin with - the fear of death. It's just "hasn't it been long enough, people want to leave." Well, if they leave, they will die - thistle's right about that! The only way to get him to accept that is what Yaad eventually does on his behalf at the end of the manga.

To admit that he was wrong to ask to begin with. To ask Thistle to accept loss and death. To accept it himself, truly.

Without doing that, there's no way he'd ever get through to him. So the route he takes - running away from thistle, begging that someone kill the "lunatic magician" - might be the last resort of a desperate man who blamed himself for what happened to his brother. But it's also something he does because he can't understand Thistle, and can't see his pain for what it is or his relationship with the Winged Lion for what it is.

The way that the lion manipulates others' perception to make him the victim and thistle the - well, the 'lunatic', the unstable villain and captor - really evokes DARVO to me. the demon as a metaphor for an abusive relationship. like.... look at this extra:

and it makes me sad that no-one realised what was going on until it was too late for thistle.

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi meta #dm meta #the winged lion #thistle dungeon meshi #sissel dungeon meshi #delgal #dunmeshi spoilers #all the way to the end - anime onlies dont touch #delgal not good brothering :( makes me sad

[heraxic]

I’m sorry if you already answered this (I didn’t find it mentioned) but why was Kyril/Karl mutated, imprisoned and hunted in the Greek Myth AU? This definitely feels like Miranda/Athena was punishing him. What happened?

Thanks for asking!

Here’s pre-curse Kyril (story under cut, body horror/gore warning)

Yes, it was meant as punishment (unlike Alina and Daphne), and to no one’s surprise his crime was hubris.

Kyril worked at his father’s forge, far surpassing his skills in both metalworking and stone masonry. As such he was blessed by Hephaestus himself.

He got commissioned to make a statue of Athena in honor of her craftsmanship. He rolled his eyes and set to work, complaining that it’d be more fitting to make one of Hephaestus, who picked up the slack, since Athena abandoned her craft and stopped making beautiful things for the sake of her sick game (Athena’s Gauntlet of Monsters, so far containing a living whirlpool and a sphinx, was widely known and many daydreamed of or even sought the glory of defeating the beasts). In spite of his grumbling the statue came out stunning with clean cut stone and gilded detailing.

The next day, a weaver came to Kyril’s forge saying she’d heard his complaints about her goddess, which confused her cause with a statue that beautiful a blessing would naturally be in order, yet he burned that bridge. ‘What if she could give you the power to make the most life-like statues in the world?’ Kyril laughed and said it wasn’t her domain, and besides he didn’t need it.

Refusing a blessing from a god is one thing, but to mock them and be telling the truth at the same time is unforgivable.

The weaver lifted her shawl from her head and revealed a brilliant blue plume and with it a golden helmet. Athena arose to her full dreadful height, one hand holding her winged spear, the other pointed towards the terrified sinner in front of her. ‘You will know what power is when you see it. You shall have my blessing whether you wish or not.’

In a second, Kyril fell to the floor screaming with blinding agony, feeling horrible squelching and crunching as bone and muscle grew where it shouldn’t. His nails fell out and out of the raw empty spots grew thorny black claws; his spine extended to accommodate a tufted lion tail; the skin of his back ripped to tatters to unfurl two sets of bloody grey wings; his black curls turned to angry, writhing snakes, each more venomous than the last; his teeth grew sharp and pointed, cutting rifts on his tongue so blood filled his mouth; and lastly his eyes grew heavy in their sockets as they were imbued with the last of the goddess’s curse.

Hearing the commotion, Kyril’s father rushed in and cradled the strange figure he knew was his son, turning his head towards him. He instantly froze in place, a perfect image of paternal worry, and the monster felt the arms holding it turn hard and grating like stone.

Athena took him away to her islands somewhere in the Cyclades to become the next glorious creature on her roster, the Gorgon. There he lied writhing in pain for 12 days without sleep or food (besides the right leg of Pallas, which further changed his body and gained him far more muscle and size). When the pain subsided enough to let him speak he prayed for his patron Hephaestus to help him, but alas gods can’t break each other's curses. Instead he carved out a spacious cave for him in which to seek shelter as well as several unbreakable stonemason and smithing tools to keep up his spirits.

700 yrs later Elias comes to the islands.

#ask #re8 #greek mythology #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #re8 mother miranda #re8 miranda #fanart #my art #sketch

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Imagine, Shibusawa accidentally activated his ability in real world.

The whole house is covered in fog. And all abilities are on a loose.

Even Crime and Punishment are gone.

But, they don't attack their respective ability users.

They are nowhere to be found.

You are also nowhere to be seen.

Worst of all, Dazai is also missing.

BSD Cast are panicking.

What, if abilities hurt you?!

BSD Cast is searching through the house.

They found you, surrounded by abilities, on the attic.

And all abilities are trying to get your attention.

🐯 Beast Beneath The Moonlight is chuffing, rubbing its head against your chest.

📒 The Matchless Poet creating knick-knacks for you.

👘🗡️ All Men Are Equal is guarding the window, taking short breaks to pet you.

🩺 Thou Shalt Not Die is applying cute bandages on smallest, almost healed cuts.

🌨️ Light Snow is recreating movie scenes with its power.

🐄 Undefeated by the Rain create stone figures with its bare hands.

🐰 Demon Show holding a plate with snacks.

Futon is manipulating electronics, changing channels, so you can watch some interesting show.

🍰💉 Vita Sexualis is making accessories for you.

🍷 Upon the Tainted Sorrow making things float for your entertainment.

🌂 Golden Demon is bringing you nice clothes.

🇫🇷 Demonic Beast Guivre is curled around you.

🎧 Illuminations is creating a hyperspace over you.

🗣️ Lippman's ability is sitting near you, guarding you.

🧥 Rashomon is glaring at everyone, who is trying to get close to you.

🚬 Falling Camelia entertain you by pushing around different things.

🩹🧲 Midwinter Memento is controlling metal pieces to create some cool figurines.

⭕⭐ Dogra Magra, as a little doll, sitting on your lap.

🍋 Lemonade is creating fireworks for you.

🍛 Flawless is playing cards with you.

⛩️ Hail in the Begging Bowl preparing non-alcoholic drinks for you.

💻 Discourse on Decadence is writing down interesting memories, it read from anything he could find.

🥷 Yesterday's Shadow Tag is sitting near Rashomon, protecting you.

🕶️ Another is bringing you dolls from Ayatsuji's collection.

💰 The Great Fitzgerald is bringing you cases, full of money (don't worry, it simply took them from Fitzgerald).

🦝 Black Cat in the Rue Morgue is ready to send you in any book you want.

🐋 Mody Dick is floating outside the window, ready to fly with you anywhere you want.

🍇 The Grapes of Wreath is growing grapes for you. Don't worry, they are edible.

☕ Annie of Abyss Red is playing ball with you.

🪶 Little Women is planning your weekends, while sitting in the next room

👒 Gone With the Wing is using wings to make paper butterflies fly around.

♊ Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer are floating above you, telling jokes.

✝️ The Scarlet Letter is writing your name in the air with its power.

😷 A Feast in a Time of Plague simply observing you from the corner.

🫖 The Precipice is outside, rumbling happily.

👻 The Perfect Crime is bringing you mystery novels.

⚔️ Mirror Lion is entertaining you with its sword skills.

🦇🧛 Bram's ability is handing from the sealing upside down. Protecting you.

🃏 Sigma's ability is laying near you, with its head on your lap.

🤡 The Overcoat is doing a circus performance for you.

🐀 Crime and Punishment is playing with your hair.

👧👩👵 Gasp of the Soul is cuddling your left hand.

💧 Priceless Tears is floating through the vents all over the house and bring you whatever you ask for.

🌸 Plum Blossoms in Snow is using its power to cut fruits.

⌚ Strait is the Gate is observing surroundings.

🐈‍⬛ I am a Cat is purring and doing tricks for you.

🪢🦀 Dazai, somehow, got captured, and how is in a cage, far away from anyone, he can touch to nullify.

The moment, BSD Cast stepped to the attic, abilities turned towards them, glaring at their 'hosts'.

So, you, either, will be stuck here, until Abilities decide to let you go.

Or, until BSD Cast manage to free Dazai.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[barrenclan]

PATFW: Animal Name Systems

As more non-Clan characters get introduced to the story, I’ve been having fun coming up with the naming systems for various animals. In real life there would probably be more natural variety within a whole species, but also making up little systems is fun so I don’t care. Also, as a technical note, obviously none of these names are in “English”. They’re in whatever language animals speak. So, like, Hacksaw is not literally “hacksaw”, it’s the animal word for that object. 

Cats - with the exception of warriors (who obviously have an incredibly specific naming system), cat names tend to be more loose, and can be named after many things. In general, they are shorter. House cats are also an exception, as they are named by people and so their names can be very different. Ex. Cashew, Summer, Rowan, Egret, Thrasher, Jackalope

Wolves and coyotes - like cats, wolves also have a more loose naming system. Often wolves are named after someone else, to honor them. Coyote communities are heavily linked to wolf communities, so their rules are similar. In general, they are longer. Ex. Coldbreath, Nightshade, Lucky-Foot, Antlerhorn, Ranger

Deer - deer are always named after plants. No exceptions to this. Often the plants are ones that the parents admire or enjoy. Ex. Wild Rose, Juniper, Hyssop, Maple, Lingonberry

Mountain lions - they are named after some kind of aspirational trait at birth that their parent is hoping they fulfill. Sometimes this leads to funny, ironic circumstances, but usually the kitten is shaped by their name and strives to embody it. Ex. Ferocity, Swiftness, Cunning, Power, Caution

Porcupines - for the first year of their life, porcupine kits are named after the order in which their mother gave birth to them. Ex. First, Second, Third, etc. When the porcupine has come of age, they are given their adult name. These names are short and functional, usually no more than four letters. Ex. Mud, Snap, Snow, Blue

Falcons - chicks are never given names by their parents, and are generally treated as indistinguishable when young. Once they leave the nest, falcons name themselves whatever they like. Frequently these names are inspired by human artifacts, as falcons (and many other bird cultures, as well as raccoons) value their liminal relationship to humans. Ex. Hacksaw, Highway, Black-Wing, Perils, Artemis

Bears - at birth, bears are given short, silly names, meant to be inconsequential. Ex. Fuzz, Seed, Bug, Baby. When they come of age, they are given an adult name by the eldest bear, whether it’s a large group or just a family. These names are structured as some kind of brag about the individual’s qualities, to impress others and display dominance. They are composed of two words in the trait separated by a hyphen. Ex. Longest-Claws, Fiercest-Roar, Strongest-Jaw, Thickest-Pelt. However, if the bear is disliked or considered weak, they can be also be called a version of this structure that is an insult. Ex. Dullest-Mind, Weakest-Strike, Softest-Heart. The greatest shame of all, though, is an adult bear forced to keep their childhood name. 

#lore

[vaguelydcwnwards]

TAG DUMP 2 ;;

starscream tags

G1 STARSCREAM:

g1 starscream tag ;; all i ever wanted was the world

g1 starscream hc ;; i want to watch the world burn; i brought the gasoline

g1 starscream aes ;; jealousy fuels him and feeds him and fills him

g1 starscream ic ;; you can join the team or you can bitch and moan

--

TFP STARSCREAM:

tfp starscream tag ;; in a coat of gold or a coat of red a lion still has claws

tfp starscream hc ;; loneliness moves in him crude and black

tfp starscream aes ;; i'll bring thunder; i'll bring rain

tfp starscream ic ;; ain't nobody but your self to trust

--

EARTHSPARK STARSCREAM:

es starscream tag ;; i will not speak of your sins

es starscream hc ;; poverty comes to clip your wings

es starscream aes ;; drown out the sound of the song he once heard

es starscream ic ;; hold my hand; consign me not to darkness

#tag dump #info ;; from marathon to waterloo in order categorical #g1 starscream tag ;; all i ever wanted was the world #g1 starscream hc ;; i want to watch the world burn; i brought the gasoline #g1 starscream aes ;; jealousy fuels him and feeds him and fills him #g1 starscream ic ;; you can join the team or you can bitch and moan #tfp starscream tag ;; in a coat of gold or a coat of red a lion still has claws #tfp starscream hc ;; loneliness moves in him crude and black #tfp starscream aes ;; i'll bring thunder; i'll bring rain #tfp starscream ic ;; ain't nobody but your self to trust #es starscream tag ;; i will not speak of your sins #es starscream hc ;; poverty comes to clip your wings #es starscream aes ;; drown out the sound of the song he once heard #es starscream ic ;; hold my hand; consign me not to darkness #ooc ;; your enormous eyebags have captivated me

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Pomefiore [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Pomefiore vs. Neige Leblanche Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Pomefiore Version

ie. In which no actor alive is apparently able to comprehend the expression ‘too much.’ Or, Neige sends you far too many flowers and Vil reacts about just as well as you would expect.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Everything was going great.

Sure, Rook had nearly assassinated you through the power of embarrassment alone and Vil was still commandeering nearly every spare moment of your free time, but overall it was good. The House Warden had slipped back into his usual not entirely self-destructive haughtiness, and you had tucked his subordinate’s betrayal into the deepest recesses of your mind in hopes you might one day just black it out entirely.

And then one morning you woke up and there were flowers on your doorstep.

At first, you genuinely thought it was a prank. Because they were white lilies, and lilies were toxic to cats. And obviously Grim had yowled at you immediately about how he was “NOT A CAT, HENCHMAN!” But you tossed the bouquet in the garbage anyways, just to be safe. Part of you figured that it might be Jade. He certainly seemed the type to dabble in poisoning house pets, and he went on enough nature walks that procuring some of those nifty little blossoms would be an easy feat. So you casually penned ‘Threaten Azul With Octopot Blackmail Until He Can Learn to Control His Demon Spawn’ into your planner and carried on with your day.

And then there were more flowers the next morning, and something cavernous and foreboding in your gut told you that this wasn’t Jade Leech. This time it was a pleasantly wrapped bouquet of mixed white and red carnations—all tuft-like and fluffy. There was a small square of cardstock tucked into the stems. Maybe there had been one in the lilies too, but you hadn’t even bothered to check before dunking them into the trashcan. The paper was embossed with something that looked a bit like an insignia—a teeny, round, sparrow made up of curling silver swirls and little, scratchy, tufts that you assumed were meant to be feathers. The real damning part of all of it though was the elaborate, cursive, N.L. tucked beneath the bird’s spread wings.

Ruh-roh.

“Huh? What are those?” Grimm yawned as he padded down the stairs on his teeny, black, paws.

You tossed the bouquet into the coat closet and slammed the door. “Nothing. Jade’s just trying to poison you again.”

Grim puffed up like a little lion. “You should poison him back! Or stab ‘em!”

“Right,” you nodded, walking bravely into the winter morning with no coat, because the evidence was with your coat, and you immediately wanted to shrivel up and die. “I’ll just do that then.”

The next morning, there was a knock at your door—bright and early. You cracked it open cautiously and peeked through the slit like a ghoul creeping out of its dark lair. It was a person you didn’t recognize, and you opened the door more fully.

“Can I help you…?”

“Yes!” the guy chirped. You realized then that he was wearing a delivery uniform. “I’m just here to drop these off for you,” he smiled, and pressed a bundle of daisies into your arms. “I guess it was noted in the delivery request that it wasn’t a certainty if the last orders had ended up with you or not.”

“Is that so,” you droned, trying not to sound like your soul was actively attempting to vacate your body. “Well. Thank you. Goodbye—”

“Oh!” he called, before you could retreat back into your hovel like a wounded animal. “There are a few more actually!” he said, pointing to another delivery man headed in your direction—weighed down under an entire armful’s worth of blooms. You couldn’t even make out the poor guy’s head beneath the forest of pale pinks and yellows consuming him.

“Right,” you nodded, horrified. “Of course. Anyways, is there a way I can go about returning these, or…?”

The poor dude being eaten alive by all those flowers just laughed good-naturedly and dumped the wagon’s worth of tulips, and camellias, and even more carnations at your feet. You could feel something in your jaw tick.

And then another pair of delivery men came sauntering over the hill and you wanted to scream.

That day at lunch, you felt like a convict in a lineup.

You were seated at Vil’s left, as was the norm, and you were having to actively fight the raw survival instinct tugging at every muscle in your body as it demanded that you flee from the room post haste. A part of you felt like the intuitive beauty would just know somehow. Like he could smell the goddamn flowers on you. You were practically vibrating out of your seat. Every time he brushed up against you, you’d jolt like you’d been electrocuted. All of the moments where he’d shift and his knee would bump against yours, or when he would reach for something just a little off center and his arm would tuck up against your side, or how he’d rest his hand on the table just close enough to yours that even the teeniest fidget would push your pinkies together. It was like the universe had decided that today you were going to be a lightning rod, and that it was oh so fun to just zap-zap-zap you endlessly.

“Are you feeling alright, Mon Coeur?” Rook called from his spot across the narrow table. “You look a bit grey.”

You grit your teeth, because Vil sitting less than a foot away or otherwise, no way would you be telling anything to this snitch. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you.”

“No. He’s right,” Vil asserted, stern, and turned to face you more fully. “You’ve been miserable from the moment you sat down. What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,” you tried again, and Vil’s eyes narrowed irritably at your bold-faced lie. He leaned closer, as if chastising you from three inches away instead of six would make any sort of difference. But then something odd flickered across his expression and you experienced the very distinctive and horrifying sensation of being marched to the gallows.

Vil reached out and the featherlight touch of his fingers brushed along the curve of your jaw and down your throat before settling heavily at your collar. He plucked a small, pink, petal from a fold in the fabric.

“What’s this?” he asked, with the inflection of someone who already knew perfectly well what ‘this’ was.

“I fell into a bush,” you replied, deadpan.

Silence.

“A bush, hmm?” he mused blandly, and rolled the petal around between his fingers.

Epel and Rook exchanged pointed glances.

“It was an ugly bush,” you added. Because, sure, it was a lie. And Vil clearly knew it was a lie. But maybe hurling around insults at Neige the bush would help.

Vil snorted, and thankfully it sounded more amused than enraged. The petal disappeared in a puff of dark, purple, smoke and he returned to poking at his salad and your posture in equal measure. Safe. For now.

That evening, you approached the only other person on campus that you could think of who would benefit more from helping you keep your horrible, little, secret than in just selling you out at the first opportunity.

“Epel, you lived on a farm,” you tried, conversational in perhaps the way a hostage may try to sound casual to avoid panicking the SWAT team listening in from just outside the door. “You know how plants work.”

He arched a lavender eyebrow at you.

“Yeah?”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool,” you chirped, steepling your fingers. “So, anyways. Can I get your help then. With a plant problem I’m having?”

“Uhm, sure?” he agreed, face scrunched up in bewilderment.

When you walked him into Ramshackle’s foyer, Epel made a noise like he was choking. You couldn’t blame him—shock aside, the petals floating around were becoming a real hazard.

“Where did these even come from?” he gawked.

“Neige,” you winced, scuffing your toes against the carpet. Or at least in the general vicinity of where you assumed the carpet was. The entire floor was blanketed in loose leaves and bits of ivy.

He whistled low under his breath, and something in his gaze went a little hazy—a little spooked. “When Vil finds out about this…”

“He won’t,” you declared, with as much determination as you could manage.

“He will,” Epel grumbled. He looked like he was having war flashbacks.

“If he does,” you sighed, defeated, “you might as well just shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

“The shotgun is back at grandma’s,” he mumbled, his pale blue eyes still clouded and very, very, faraway.

You blinked. “What.”

“What?”

“…Nothing. I just. Please,” you begged. “You have to help me.”

Epel seemed to take your pleas seriously at the very least (or maybe it was just his own sense of self-preservation kicking in), and he gently raised a finger to tap at his chin as he pondered. After a moment, he made a little ‘ah-ha’ noise and turned back to you with a firm nod.

“You ever lit a bonfire in a dumpster before?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. A third time.

“I,” you began, slow, “have never. Set a dumpster on fire.”

Epel reached out to thump you squarely on the shoulder. “Well, you’re gonna today.”

.

.

“What were you thinking?!” Crewel snarled at you, cracking his pointer across his palm.

You coughed, sending a cloud of garbage-and-petal-scented soot into the air of his otherwise very pristine office.

“I wasn’t?” you tried.

The alchemist looked like he was ready to put his head through the wall or maybe yours, but instead he just reached up to dig his fingers into his temples.

“Detention,” he snapped.

“Understandable,” you nodded—another wave of dusty, black, ash falling to the carpet beneath your feet.

.

.

And then all your arson was for naught, because the very next morning there was a fresh mountain of pink roses crowding your entryway.

You kicked them into the back of the coat closet and hurried off to class, making sure to double and triple check your clothes for any damning evidence before you did.

You made it all the way through the rest of the day without any other flower related nonsense, and maybe all that success had made you cocky, stupid. So when you realized you’d forgotten your little notebook full of reference numbers and stage cues for the Drama Club’s newest production, making a pitstop at Ramshackle only seemed sensible. And when Vil offered to walk you there and back, you agreed without any consideration for rationality.

You could just see the pointed rooftop of your dorm coming into view over the hill when your companion final spoke up.

“This path is ridiculously undermaintained,” he hummed. His purple gaze slid pointedly in your direction. “I suppose I can see how you were you so easily felled by a bush.”

“An ugly bush,” you repeated, just to see his lips quirk into a smug little smirk.

But then that satisfied expression froze on his face, and his mouth curled downwards into that venomous sneer of his that made each and every hair at the back of your neck stand on end.

Because standing in your doorway, a delicate bouquet of sunflowers and sweet peas tucked under his arm, was Neige LeBlanche. With that goddamn purple scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Oh! Hello!” he chirped, his doe eyes wrinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I was hoping I’d be able to catch you!” A fetching shade of pink bloomed across his cheeks and along the bridge of his nose, and he fidgeted nervously with the soft wrappings in his hands. “I was starting to think I had the wrong address…”

There was a steadily increasing pressure around the meat of your upper arm, and it took you a beat too long to realize that it was Vil and his ever-tightening vice grip and not just your clothes trying to strangle you. You could feel the blunt crescents of his fingernails digging into the fabric of your coat—sharp little pinpricks that didn’t exactly hurt or anything, but reminded you just a little too much of a big cat flexing its claws before it pounced.

Neige seemed to notice his one-sided nemesis for the first time, and his expression lit with genuine mirth.

“Oh! Vil! Hello to you too!” he beamed, a merry laugh working its way past his lips. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other! Though if you both go to Night Raven I suppose that makes sense…” He mused.

“Of course,” Vil ground out past his gnashing canines, with about as much civility as you were expecting. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

At this inquiry, Neige went pink all over again—from the tip of his gently pointed chin to the edges of his neatly styled fringe. He shifted nervously back and forth on the balls of his feet and his fingers clenched into the velvet bow of the bouquet. When he spoke up again, he was addressing you and you alone.

“I, uhm…” he spluttered. “Well, I… I was worried you weren’t getting any of my flowers, because I never heard anything back from you. Not that I was expecting you to thank me or anything!” he hurriedly rushed out. “I just—Ah. Well… I-I’ve never really done this sort of thing before, and I wanted to make sure I was doing it right, and Dominic said that if you weren’t responding then maybe I should be doing this in person, so… I…” he trailed off, his face practically glowing with the crimson heat radiating off his cheeks.  

“You never actually gave me any way to respond,” you tried (which was entirely true), aiming for as middle-of-the-road as possible. Clearly it wasn’t neutral enough, because Vil’s glower swiveled to you and became a tangible force against your skin.

“Oh!” Neige gasped. “Oh my goodness! You’re right!”

Maybe that would be the end of it. Maybe he’d be like you, and wind up so encumbered by his own embarrassment that he’d have no other choice but to run away.

But instead, he soldiered on.

“Well…” the brunette murmured, clearly fighting an intense urge to fidget. “I was wondering then, if I—if you—if we—could. If you want to—”

This poor, lost, boy was so sweet and endearing. And as much as you could not comprehend how saving him One Time in a crowded mall had turned into weeks of pining and near hero worship, you felt for the dude. And you felt even worse knowing that you were going to have to absolutely cut him down if you wanted any hope of coming out of this alive with an even marginally stable Vil at your side. Neige was kind, but Vil was totally not the object of your miserable, unrequited, affections your friend. And if you had to sacrifice Squirrel-Sweater-Boy and his crush to keep the House Warden from falling into another spiral of self-flagellation and despair, then so be it.

“A-Actually!” you cut in as fast as you could. “I was just…”

Your eyes flickered to Vil, panicked, and you hoped he wouldn’t eviscerate you for this.

You placed a hand atop the one he’d wrapped around your arm and gave it a gentle, blatant, squeeze as you leaned heavily into his side. “The two of us were just planning on going somewhere! Together!” You shot him a pointed look that you prayed he’d be able to interpret past the veil of red fury muddling his gaze. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh! Like a friendship outing!” Neige chirped, and clapping his hands together enthusiastically. You wilted. “Do you mind if I come along too then? I’d really love to spend more time with you if I can, but obviously I don’t want to step over any of your preexisting plans! I’d love to be able to hang out with Vil again too! It could be like a field trip!”

Your stomach dropped, and you were genuinely worried for a moment that you were going to have to just honest-to-God turn around and book it before you could be indicted as an accessory to murder.

But then the twisting resentment melted from Vil’s face and the hand at your shoulder snuck around your back to settle firmly at your hip. He hauled you flush against his side and you barely managed to swallow your squeak.

“No, actually,” Vil crooned, a wickedly smug grin splitting his crimson lips. “Together, as in together. Partners,” he continued, perfectly chipper. “Involved. Entangled. Romantically linked. Whatever you’d like to call it.”

Neige’s expression immediately fell into something terribly dejected, before bouncing almost just as fast into mortification.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “I had no idea! If I had known, I—I mean, I would never have tried to—to—Oh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable!” he rambled, so red and embarrassed that you were back to feeling bad for him all over again. “Please forgive me for overstepping!”

“I suppose,” Vil sighed, dramatic. And you were officially done feeling bad for him and all his crippling self-worth issues. He turned to you with this demure little pout that you just knew he’d probably had to practice in front of a mirror at some point. “And how about you, darling? Are you feeling magnanimous this afternoon?”

“You’re forgiven,” you grit out, and there was bit of a terrible moment where Neige clearly assumed your spiraling vitriol was aimed at him and not the smug bastard pinning you to his side.

“Th-Thank you!” he squeaked, before darting forward to press the bouquet into Vil’s hands. “Here! Have these! As a—As an apology bouquet instead of a, well…” He buried his face into the plush fabric of his scarf and took a very long, very loud, breath. As if he was trying to center himself. “Anyways! I should be—I’ll get going then! Enjoy your date!”

And then Neige was scurrying off as fast as his legs could carry him, and Vil smirked proudly throughout the entire retreat and beyond. The sunflowers sat in his hands like a trophy.

You took a moment to remind yourself that you were not always a terrible person, and that surely something like this was outweighed in the grand scheme of things by all the Overblots you’d stopped, and how many murders you’d prevented. You sighed, bone deep and weary, and were just about to start making the last leg of the trek into your dorm when Vil pulled you in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” you asked, confused. “We still need to get my notebook for the club meeting, and—”

“I thought you just said something about me taking you out for the evening,” he interrupted, arching a finely shaped brow. “Or did you already forget.”

“But that was…” you trailed off, hesitant. Something warm and eager swirled in your belly, and you tamped it down as fast you could. There was no way he meant what your fluttering pulse was assuming he’d meant. I mean, you were ‘the potato.’ That’s it. “You don’t have to feel like you need to take me somewhere. I know that was just…”

Vil scoffed. “Oh, please. I assumed you knew me better than that. Do I seem like the sort of person who would be willing to fake a relationship to avoid any kind of fallout—within the media or otherwise?”

“…No?” you said after a moment.

His hand flexed at your waist. “Correct. Now. Let’s get going. We’ll stop at my dorm first—you’re not going out dressed like that.”

The world was tilting on its axis. Hell had frozen over. Deuce had aced an exam.

“Are you—did you just ask me out?” you gaped.

Vil sighed. “Technically, you asked me. Or, well, demanded.”

“Oh,” you rasped, dazed. “I guess I did.”

And so began the journey back to Pomefiore. Or, well, Vil’s journey. You were just being carted along like a useless sack of vegetables. Your head was spinning, the rest of you barely able to catch up to its frantic swirling. Amidst all your emotional vertigo, you did catch Vil glaring frostily down at the bouquet in his hands. You wondered idly why he didn’t just throw it to the side, and then remembered that ah yes. A trophy.

“Sunflowers,” Vil scoffed under his breath, and the contempt there helped ground you back in reality.

“What’s wrong with sunflowers?” you asked in a huff, no longer feeling the need to cater to his bruised pride now that he was so obviously riding high on a wave of self-satisfied vindication.

He snorted. “You clearly have no grasp on floriography.”

“And you do?”

“What exactly do you think poisons are made of? Or most natural cosmetics?”

You sighed. “Fine. Then if sunflowers are so awful, what kind of flowers would you give me?”

“Roses, naturally. Scarlet Sage.” His lips quirked. “Coriander.”

“Coriander isn’t a flower. It’s what you cook with,” you sniffed, indignant. “Sage too!”

Vil laughed under his breath and reached out to take your hand, threading your fingers through his. You felt warmth spread from your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears, and you hoped more than anything that your palm wasn’t too sweaty.

“Is that so?” he hummed, amused.

“Well what do they mean then?” you conceded, that furious heat still working its way along your skin.

He glanced down at you out of the corner of his charcoal-lined eyes—the purple there brilliantly sharp and fond. He gave your hand another firm squeeze.

“I suppose you’ll just have to do your best to figure that out.”

.

.

.

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🌸FLOWERS🌸

White Lilies = Virginity, Purity, Heavenly Red Carnations  = ‘Alas for my poor heart, my heart aches,’ deep romantic love White Carnations = Innocence, pure love, sweet love Daisies = Innocence, Loyal love Ivy = Affection, Friendship, Fidelity Pink Camelias = Longing For You Pink Rose = Happiness; innocent romantic love Yellow Tulip = Sunshine in your smile; hopeless love Sweet Pea = kindheartedness, Blissful pleasures Sunflower = Adoration; Pure Thoughts

Red Rose = Love, ‘I love you’ Scarlet Sage = Forever Mine Coriandor = Lust

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Vil x Reader #vil shoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Pomefiore x Reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader #My Writing #Heroes vs Villains #Heroes vs Villains Pomefiore Part 3

[astairo]

I have a regulus black request for you!

Reader is a potter but got into Slytherin and James hates her because she’s a Slytherin?

Reader and regulus are inlove but haven’t told eachother even tho everyone can see it

One day James is picking on her for being a Slytherin and she snaps at him and fights him and wins? I dont know something like that

And reader is in the hospital wing alone with regulus and he is verry worried about her and they confess to eachother basically just super fluffy at the end

Courageous Serpent

Regulus Black x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, bullying, physical violence, threats, fluff

“Slytherin!”

Y/n would never forget that moment. She remembered how her brother’s gleeful face turned cold and sour. She could never forget the day she lost her brother. All because of a sorting. Their playful banters turned into cold insults and hatred. She felt unstable.

“Bloody disgrace!” Young James Potter sneered at his sister, bumping past her. “Jamie—“ his head snapped to her, “Don’t call me that.” Her eyes widened at his harshness, “But Jamie—“ he pointed his wand towards her, “I said don’t call me that!” Y/n’s lip quivered, overwhelmed and frightened, “I-I’m sorry.” James glared at her, “You should be.” She took a step forward, breathing shakily as he took a step back, “No, I can’t be seen with a bloody serpent.”

His words never left her mind. She would recall all the times he’d promised to be by her side, knowing he’d failed to do so. After all, he was one of the courageous lions, and she was one of the serpents. She had never felt so alone, so outcasted. A bloody disgrace.

“I understand how you feel,” a voice spoke behind the bookshelves of the library. Y/n’s head perked up from her balled up form, wiping her tears, “H-hello?” She looked behind her, watching as a figure emerged from behind the bookshelves, “It’s okay. My brother hates me, too.” She looked at the pale boy, “Who are you?” The boy looked at her tiredly, “Regulus, Regulus Black.” Y/n’s eyes softened, “Sirius’ brother?” Regulus nodded before taking a seat on the floor next to her, “I feel lonely, too.” She looked at him with pity, “You do?” Regulus nodded, glancing back at her, “Mother and father aren’t exactly the kindest people, and Sirius thinks I’m just as bad.” Y/n looked at him sympathetically, “I-I’m sorry you go through that, Regulus.” He shook his head, “It’s quite alright, Potter. Maybe we could be lonely together.” Her expression changed to one of adoration, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sure you’ll be better off without me.” Regulus smiled at her, “I insist.” Y/n smiled softly, looking down to her hands, “But I’m just a bloody serpent, a disgrace even.” Regulus frowned, “You’re more than that,” he reassured, “You’re anything but a—“

“—Disgrace!” James grinned devilishly as he pointed his wand at Y/n. She felt herself lift off the ground, shrieking. She watched and listened as her brother and his friends pointed and laughed at her misery. “A flying bloody serpent!” One of the boys dramatically shrieked, causing the group to laugh harder. Y/n felt defenseless and vulnerable as she floated around. “Leave her alone, you gits!” A familiar voice rang out, Y/n’s eyes snapping open. She noticed Sirius scowl as James grinned, “Oh my, it’s Reggie!” James mocked as he turned to the pale boy, dropping Y/n harshly. “Leave her alone,” Regulus spoke threateningly, causing the group to snicker. James rolled his eyes, “Or what, Black? Adding that disgrace to your family tapestry won’t solve your issues.” Regulus paused and looked at him, refraining from saying words he might regret.

“James,” Y/n started to get up, immediately getting kicked down. Regulus noticed and rushed over, “N/n, are you alright?” He spoke softly as he helped her up. James scoffed and pushed him off, “Move. One serpent is plenty.” Y/n’s eyes widened when James grasped onto her uniform, harshly tugging her up, “You’re so easy to torment. A coward and a disgrace,” he grinned. Y/n winced at the insults.

Y/n winced as she stumbled through the castle halls, sore from James’ torment. James had gotten more courageous with his torments, getting more and more physical as time went on. By the time her fifth year came around, he was creatively ambitious. Hair dye, her vandalized dorm, itching powder. He even went overboard and attempted to spike her drinks, which she safely avoided.

“Tabby,” Regulus’ voice echoed in the empty corridor, “You’re limping. What’s wrong?” Y/n turned to see him walking up to her, distressed at seeing her state. “Don’t worry about it, Reggie.” Regulus shook his head, “No, I will worry about it, I will worry about you.” Y/n looked at him and smiled, "That's sweet, Reggie.” He smiled, “You’re all I’ve got when I think about it.” Y/n’s expression shifted into appreciation, “Thank you, Reggie. That means a lot coming from you.” Regulus smiled at her, “You mean a lot to me.” His words had her flustered, cheeks tinted pink, “Y-you mean a lot to me, too, Reggie.” He nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist to support her.

Y/n quickly scowled, pushing away from her brother, “Enough.” James scoffed and looked at her in disbelief, “Enough? Who are you to tell me what’s enough? You’re just a bloody serpent.” Regulus heard this and went to step in. Sirius quickly tugged his younger brother back, making him fall into the ground. James snickered at this, looking back at Y/n, “That thing isn’t going to make everything better,” he sneered, “Stop wasting your time with that waste and actually make use of yourself.”

Y/n couldn’t contain herself, harshly shoving her brother back and pulling her wand out, “He isn’t a waste!” James’ friends snickered from behind, infuriating him, “Watch your damn words, serpent.” Y/n’s patience crumbled, spitting out a spell. She gasped as she watched her brother fly back into a tree, “I—“ Before she could apologize, a strong force hit her chest, causing her to fall back. She winced and looked to find her brother’s wand pointed directly at her, “How dare you,” he snarled. Y/n felt herself shrink under his deadly gaze, “It was an accident.” James only scoffed as he walked towards her, “Of course it was ‘just an accident.’ It’s always an accident, a mistake, when it comes to you,” he snarled and kicked her side, causing her to wince at the sudden contact.

Regulus’ eyes widened and went to help, only to be held back by his brother, “Let go!” Y/n’s gaze shifted to her best friend, only for James to harshly revert it back to him, “You’re nothing but a disgrace to this damn family, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” James’ tone was laced with venom and hatred towards his sister, showing no sign of remorse or guilt. “It’s the fact that I can hex you right now, and no one would care for you, you filthy serpent. Not mum, dad, me,” his grasp tightened around her face, “Not even him.” Y/n felt herself snap at his words, “Stupefy!”

Students walking past had stopped to watch the commotion, gasping as James flew back. In the matter of seconds, spells were thrown back and forth between the two. Just as Y/n raised her wand to cast another spell, James moved quickly and hit her. Y/n felt herself falling to the ground, harshly hitting her head. James smirked down at his work, quickly scrambling away with his friends when Professor McGonagall appeared hurriedly. Regulus quickly scrambled to her side and told her what had happened. “Thank you, Mr. Black,” she spoke worriedly as she looked down to the barely conscious girl, “I’ll take it from here. If you could please bring Miss Potter to Madam Pomfrey, I’d gladly appreciate it.” Regulus didn’t wait for her to finish and quickly helped his tabby up to the hospital wing.

-

Y/n awoke hours later with a raging headache. As her eyes fluttered open, Regulus was quickly there to comfort her, “You’re alright, tabby. You’re safe with me.” She looked up with appreciation, “Thank you, Reggie.” He smiled and handed her a small vial, “Pomfrey said to give you this once you woke up. I reckon it’s for your head.” She nodded, quickly drinking the substance. Regulus watched her sigh and relax into the bed, ultimately breaking the silence, “You have no idea how upset I was.” Y/n looked at him, confused, “What?” Regulus scooted closer, holding her hand, “Tabby, I watched him hurt you, and I couldn’t protect you.” She frowned, “You don’t have to protect me, Reggie—“ “I care for you too much.”

Y/n’s gaze softened at his words, “And I care for you too.” Regulus looked at her, kissing her knuckles lightly, “As much as I do, you’re too oblivious.” She cocked her head, “Simplify?” Regulus shook his head, leaning in and planting his lips on hers. Y/n’s eyes widened, ultimately closing as she melted into him. The two parted away, Regulus slightly trying to chase her lips. They stared at each other with pink-tinted faces and small smiles. “How was that for a kiss, tabby cat?” He whispered cheerfully. Y/n shook her head, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that, Reggie.” He gazed at her, “Now you don’t have to. By all means, kiss me however and whenever you want, my tabby cat. I promise you won’t regret it.” Y/n chuckled, “I could never regret being with you.” The pair smiled and embraced each other, better intertwined.

#regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x you #regulus black #r.a.b #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee fanfic #timothee chalamet #mauraders era #harry potter

[fuzedatti]

I am hyperfixated on a show that I hate and love at the same time? Yes

Did I mixed it with my religion? Maybe

Redesigns of Lucifer and King Paimon, just for fun.

LUCIFER ☆

Duller colors and appereance to give a more "intimidating" essence.

Mix of a lion and a goat. The serpent is part of him too.

The black tears are permanent.

He has wing scars on his back.

KING PAIMON ☆

I gotta be honest. I hate Viv's version, mostly because King Paimon is my patron and ummm yeah

Anyways, based on how he has presented to me (and others) he is now a fox!!!

Extroverted 200%, loves Lucifer too.

He has appeared to me as a Indian and middle eastern man, so I give him features of those regions! Simplified to make him "animator friendly" (His clothes are also based on antique illustrations of him).

Not a bad dad anymore!! He can be distracted, sure, but not neglectful.

Stolas you are next.

#helluva boss #lucifer hazbin hotel #paimon helluva boss #redesign #hazbin hotel #luciferian art #king paimon #lucifer #i still love helluva boss #but you can consume media you love and be critical about it #helluva redesign #hazbin redesign