Violent - Tumblr Posts
Hello everybody and welcome back to another hunter X hunter/hxh scenario in today’s scenario we will be doing with the hunter X hunter characters would do if their kid started being violent for no reason
Feitan-he would talk to phinks about it considering that his kid was normally with phinks so he assumed that his kid is getting this behaviour off of him which is pretty reasonable but overall he would not care that much he would just be wondering where this is all coming from
Chrollo-this man would be shocked he has never shown any violent behaviour in front of his kid and neither has the phantom troupe so he would be very confused as to why his kid is doing this and where his kid has learned it from he would tell his kid to get their behaviour in check
Phinks-he honestly wouldn’t care at all considering that he is violent himself and he doesn’t wanna be a hypocrite especially when he is in a gang so he just lets it be but when it gets too overboard he talks to his kid about it
Hisoka-he wouldn’t care he’s a violent person and also a weirdo and definitely a very laid-back parent so he probably wouldn’t even notice and he would just brush it off saying that his kid has always been like that even though they have not
illumi-he does come from a very violent family but he didn’t do a lot to his kid and he certainly did not make his kid train to the level that his parents made him train but he just lets it go and observes from afar
Nobunaga-he only gets violent when he is pissed off and he never makes empty threats whenever he makes a threat he always fulfils it so if his kid threatened somebody he would just sit back and watch considering that his kid is like him to a point so he wanted to see what his kid would do in that kind of situation
Silva-this man has five other kids he has other things to worry about he honestly probably wouldn’t even notice but if he did he would tell his kid to take it somewhere else instead of distracting everybody else as they have a business and they mean business
That’s it for today’s scenario everybody I’m sorry if it seems half assed I am in a rush as I have things to do but I just wanted to get a post out there! Don’t forget if you have any questions or suggestions comment or DM me!!!
I hope everybody like the scenario bye now!
Blamed for my bruises
Every time he left a mark he became distraught. I would have to invest so much energy into consoling him - telling him it would be alright, I'd wear a turtleneck. No one would know.
He told me that he made calculated decisions about how hard to throw, squeeze, or hit and I was just too fragile.
Marks just showed up on my skin far too easy.
The first time I saw him get violent it was over me.
He grabbed the guy by the nose ring and punched him in the head.
The poor bastard's crime? He tried to steal my drink.
I'm tired of your violence, now it's the time to pray to your God 'cause IT'S MY TURN NOW
" " I came to violently kill you " " ∋━━o(｀∀´oメ）～→
● Blood Orange
• IV - Overture
It spoke to her in an ancient tongue.
Not a word could she identify nor a sound could she hear dancing at the openings of her torn off ears.
It was an all-encompassing drone of tones, a sound like the gaping maw of a beast grinding its teeth against the brimstone of an umbral body.
Her mind thought in flashes, ones that burned into her eyes, creeped to the edges of her vision, breaking her sight, breaking into the constellations of her weaved memories.
Bowed syllables rumbled through a resounding hum. It spoke through its mouth and from it befell an emotion akin to aching dread.
Her bones dried beneath the wet of her flesh, her skin shriveled, dismantled under a lecherous ooze, eternally mortal against the rage of sanctity withered
She let out a sound guttural and primal, forced to crawl on her belly and eviscerate her consumed sins in a trail of innards, themselves consumed by torment.
It spoke to her in an ancient tongue, and through divinity unbeknownst to the fruits of her mother's womb, she understood.
"Yes." She said.
"Yes." The beast heard to its askings.
"Yes." It understood.
A demiurge of forgotten chaos, ineffable in its existence, understanding of ends and of nothingness, knowledgeable about what there is not to be known, accountable for all that isn't, and all that may never be or has not yet become.
"Yes."
***********************************************
She awoke to closed eyes, like a cadaver put to rest, but unlike one, she sucked the air into her rising chest and leeched at the saliva dried to the roof of her mouth.
Her heart beat to an irregular rhythm, not a fast pace but not a slow one, either. It galloped, stumbled, and caught its footing again before racing off into her body.
A cool breeze blew in and brushed at her wet skin, pooled in her sweat, waves of heat rolled from her head to her feet.
She allowed herself to see, eyes fluttering open.
A rough ceiling dangled above her head. It appeared to be cobbled from sheets of metal, bolted, screwed and hammered haphazard and with haste, a night sky of corroded stars.
Through unlocking her senses, the surroundings of her body became clear, her head rested on a pillow, and by the way it scratched at her neck, she knew it to be down.
Her body felt eerily light, she raised her arm and no sounds of tin clanging made its way to her.
She propped herself up on her elbow, almost too weak to bear the load, and just barely missed scraping her head on the rust above her.
Staring down at her body, over which she wore her fleece undergarments, she confirmed her armored weights burdened her no longer.
From hazy peripherals, she caught regular gaps in her vision, a bookcase cut in three by the iron bars that surrounded her.
She pleaded for her mind to think, to process and understand but it was numb even to her own inputs, a fuzziness coated her, it pulsed to life in the tips of her fingers when she moved, needles stabbing into her skin.
Beneath her resting body, a red carpet provided cushioning as well as a covering for the floor. To her left, a soft outline of a door's seam and to her right, nothing more than a wall of iron.
Now that her eyes could see, she found herself in a room of marble and stonemasoned pillars.
The walls were a dull cream, the zones of the floor that were uncarpeted were a white streaked reflection of the chandeliers twinkling above them, and the ceiling was intricately carved with blooming flowers that appeared to weed through battlements and clubs.
Shelves upon shelves of books various and varied plastered the walls, embedded into nooks at intervals between which portraits of oil painted men and drab scenes hanged and glared over low backed seats.
Her feet faced an open window, curtains draped half closed, and through the gaps of golden tassels, she glimpsed a young night.
Behind her, she felt a strong wind blow in the wake of a material scourge, shutters banging against their bars.
Falling back into her feathered head rest, she sank into the white cotton. Her breathing was controlled, but her fear ran wild.
To the side of her head, the door opened silently, making itself known by forcing the pressure in the room to drop as it shut.
Someone taller than the roof of her cage, taller than it allowed her to see through the corners of her vision, walked in calmly, with dress shoes rapping against the marble floors.
"Good afternoon, Isolde. How are you feeling?"
She tensed, her fingernails digging into the carpeted floor. Her pulse sounded from within her throat, one she couldn't suppress even as she swallowed dryly.
"I have not drugged you, and you are not tied up. Perhaps you're shaken, understandably so if you are, but you should be alright, so let us speak."
She forced her head to turn and look directly up towards the disembodied voice.
The dread wished for her not to, but she ignored it and at the end of her rotation she saw a man in a three piece suit, the very one who sat in the official stands, the one who brought Obille to his death.
"My name is Alistair Strauss."
His skin was pale, almost white, but his hight set cheeks were a healthy rose.
He wore a pair of thin spectacles above a hawked nose and below barely visible brows of a blonde as light as his complexion, an almost delicate combination of features that made him appear faint
His short hair reflected shining circle patches as bright as the whites of his dark eyes.
The collar beneath his silken coat had been spilled red, and when he unbuttoned it to drape it over the hook on the door, she could see the grey of his waist coat bore the same stains.
"I do apologize for my attire. It is rather off-putting to the eyes. You can surely imagine how disgusting it is to wear, but suits aren't easy to come by around these parts."
He walked over to the window behind her and peered through it. His every move was being followed dutifully, without rest in the form of blinking.
She guessed that they were likely elevated from the way he looked over and down before shutting the window.
"I don't want any wildlife getting in." He announced to nobody in particular.
There was something uncanny about him, something unsettling that she frantically searched for.
His unfazed face, unsmiling, unaffected, the way he spoke, walked, it was the farthest possible act from malice, evil, or anger, but her hackles raised when his eyes fell to her, a siren blared in the back of her mind and her body wished to flee but her muscles locked.
"It must feel inhumane to be in a cage, but I've done what I can to make it feel less so."
He half bent over and picked up a book from a low table. He made a thoughtful face before placing it back, "To what sick bastard did this chamber belong?" He mused, "That cage was here before I arrived, you know?"
To the front of the thin bar columns, he made his way, cut off from the torso so that she could only watch as his legs walked in front of her.
"I was not the one that undressed you, if you were wondering."
The points of his boots turned away from her, and suddenly, the cage creaked under a weight.
He crossed one leg over the other, and his suspended foot shook to a regular rhythm.
"I am waiting for a few associates of mine to return, in the meantime..." She heard the sound of a sparking flint and then a faint sizzle, followed by a poignant grey smoke so heavy that it fell to the floor.
"Please, do allow me to ramble." He said bluntly, voice slightly muffled.
A deep quiet followed, one neither captor nor prisoner had any desire to break, but the crackling puffs inhaled through his cigarette did not hold the same concerns.
"I imagine it's the gruesome sight of so many deceased that has you silent. For all its worth, my intention was not to murder Obille."
"Why did you do it?" She just barely whispered.
"He broke our deal. He was never meant to call for your execution, but there is no sum of money greater than a larger sum of money, I suppose. It's unfortunate that Balic had amassed more wealth than my sponsor's generous funding."
While the smell that emanated off a freshly lain corpse had just barely been forgotten by her senses memories, the sight of the bodies ripped to shreds and mangled had not yet become dull.
"Have you ever heard the story of a woman named Eyisbe?"
Her silence was followed by a sigh and then a gentle rapping on the steel over her head.
"N-no."
"Well," He pulled the red tip of his cigarette closer to his lips, "It's a short one. We've got time."
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"Eyisbe was a peculiar girl who appeared in a small village one day.
She was filthy, spoke in tongues, had no family nor possessions, and not as much as a single cloth to cover her skin.
Despite this, the village and its people came to love her dearly and accepted her as one of their own.
The men could not resist her, and neither could the women. Even the animals of the forest took a strange liking to her.
When she came of age, the list of those that wished to wed her had grown longer than a river.
On one rainy day in particular, they found her alone in the forest, speaking to the trees, using their fallen leaves to cover the body of an injured deer.
The villagers couldn't believe what they had witnessed.
The trees shed their leaves to her whim, and the deer, still alive, did not flee from her.
She garnered the attention of one and all, from villages afar and even to beasts that man had feared for ages.
She committed miracles unthought to the minds of the villagers, things they could have never imagined.
From fruitless trees, a full harvest would bear, and from the lifeless soil, grains like golden rods would grow to the sky.
Soon, a young man named Jeles would grow jealous of the attention.
He was unable to see the appeal the others did, and he spread false rumors to the other young men in the village.
On the night of her twentieth birthday, they invited her to a barn in the woods.
From the rafters, they hanged her by her neck, and they stripped her from head to toe.
They had their way with her, screaming unheard by the village and its people.
The boy, Eles, took a rusted knife and thrust it between her legs.
They filled a cup with the virgin blood that poured from her thighs, and they shared it together."
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He finished speaking, and Esandolyn was grateful. Her stomach had twisted into a knot that painfully unwound itself.
The tone of his voice and the words he spoke were not synonymous. They drove an icy stake into the base of her neck.
"It was said that Eyisbe was the personification of nature, our mother, a way of saying, by the hands of man, nothing is sacred."
There was a gentle knock at the door, a triplet pulse followed by a polite enquiring voice, "Mister Strauss, may I enter?"
"Yes, you may enter."
A sharply dressed man, as slender as the curl of his forked coattails entered the room, his one hand grasped at the door handle, and his other balanced a silver tray topped with a fine glass tea set.
He hurriedly set it down on the table and, with no time wasted, set two fingers atop the tea pot's lid and poured a rich liquid into two bulbed cups.
"How many sugars do you take, Miss Esandolyn?" His bushy mustache, curled at its tips, jumped up and down as his lips moved.
She mouthed the words he spoke to repeat them to see if she had understood them correctly.
"I will leave you with the sugar so you can take as much as you please."
He gently raised the saucer and cup into the air and handed it the man that sat above her, who replied with a polite, "Thank you, Rosenthal."
"Always a pleasure, Mister Strauss." He set down a cup in front of her as well, along with a bowl of heaped sugar in which a small spoon drowned.
"My purpose in telling you that story, heaven forbid you're thinking to yourself 'goodness, what an odd fellow this Alistair is,' was an admittedly feeble attempt at an explanation."
The steel groaned, relieved to be free from the weight as his boots returned to the carpet.
"I don't believe killing to be sin, nor I do believe lying, thievery, greed or lust to be blasphemous deeds."
He took a sip of his tea instead of a breath between words.
"A sin is an offense to divinity, a complete transgression against the laws set up by our lord." He paused while turned away from her, his hand clasped at the small of his back.
"The day mankind slaughtered a God was the day we committed our first true sin. It was the day our creators left us."
A sinking feeling had fallen on the net of her beating chest and brought it down to the base of her stomach.
"Rosenthal, please wait outside for Rawsthorne to arrive."
"Of course." He moved to the exit and bowed once before letting himself out, slinking through a thin gap.
He turned to her, and his face had not lost its effect on her instincts.
"You must have many questions, so ask away. I'll answer what I can, I mean to be nothing but honest with you."
"Where have you taken the queen?" She had been itching to ask and jumped at the opportunity now that it arose.
In the time it would take a hummingbird to flap its wings exactly once, his face rippled with an expression of surprise, then the waters stilled, and his calm demeanor returned.
He smiled, but only with his mouth, the flesh of his cheeks pushed his eyes to close, but they remained fixed on her. "So it's true, after all. I must say I'm relieved."
She felt that she had made a mistake, and with just a few more thoughts, she swore softly to herself for being so stupid for allowing the situation to muddy her logic.
"I won't tell you where she is."
"Then tell me what I'm doing here, why did you take me?"
Whether she shook from rage or from fear, a combination, perhaps, she did not know, but her words were still sharp.
"You are very special, one of a kind in the truest sense. To some others, you would be a clairvoyant, a soothsayer, a..." He gestured to the air, searching for a word through half closed eyes, "... A prognosticator, perhaps, if you want to be fanciful."
"And what am I to you?"
He smiled with raised brows, "Exactly right, you are."
Dropping himself onto the arm of a low backed cushioned bench upholstered in a velvet red, he set the cup and saucer to balance on his crossed legs.
"To me, you are a prophet."
"Wh-What? What does that mean?"
"Definitions can be so pedantic. Let's not get lost in detail. All those words mean the same thing, but "prophet" has the connotation of someone chosen to be a voice for the voiceless."
"A voice? What am I a voice for?"
"To figure out the answer to that question is precisely why I need you."
"Why does it have to be me? Why can't it be someone else, a different prophet? Leave me out of this!" A sliver of rage broke through into her words.
"Who else could it be but you, Isolde. There has only ever been one prophet at a time since the age of divinity, passed down through descendants...chosen at their death... it matters not, you're the only one, its a terrible unluck and certainly nothing personal."
She stared at the brown water of the still tea. She could just barely see her eyes over the rim, and she felt the same as her reflection, that she too might sink deep into something that would swallow her whole.
"Then why kill all of those people just to get to me?"
"It's upsetting, I know, but it's not in vein. I'm only willing to do what's necessary to accomplish this. While I was not planning on it, we're conveniently ahead of schedule." A voice sickeningly pleased rang out from the rim of the cup pressed to his lips.
"How many have you killed?"
He looked into her eyes, studying them, studying her face, so much so that it felt as though he had stared right through them, into her mind and soul.
"How many do you see, Isolde?"
"How many...?" She asked, brows furrowed, concerned and confused.
Any excitement etched in his face slowly faded back to his regular neutrality.
"Don't worry, it is still early. But back to the root of your question, we simply need the bodies."
"Wha-"
"Mister Strauss," Rosenthal interrupted through the door, "Rawsthorne has arrived. She says the preparations have been made, and we can leave at your earliest convenience."
"Ah, perfect timing! We'll, I assume since you knew of the Queen's kidnapping," He said to isolde, "you would have known of this too, and I assume you left behind an indication of sorts."
She remained silent, and so did he, watching her as she watched him in return.
"Someone you know made an appearance today, funnily enough, though it was unrelated. These obelisks are making quiet the splash amongst you knightly figures." He smiled slyly.
She perked up at the mention of someone she might know, "What did he look like?!"
"She, actually. Sorry to disappoint, but dark hair, small build, yellow gems in the armor she wore, she may fetch quiet a hefty sum..." He said thoughtfully.
"Gen...?" She said quietly, confusion on her face.
He heaved himself off from the seat with a groan and placed his still steaming tea aside, "Well, we have to be off Isolde. It was lovely to officially make your acquaintance, I am terribly sorry that you can not bathe or get a proper change of clothes beforehand, but I will give you a pair of shoes before we leave."
With that, he walked behind her to an area blocked out from her vision.
She heard the rattling of chains and the friction of them being pulled taught accompanied by the grinding of old gears.
With a shudder, the cage lifted from the floor, leaving behind railed dents in the carpet.
Rosenthal was waiting for her once it rose completely, arms neatly tucked behind his back and a pleasant expression on his weathered face.
He gently took her by the arms and guided her to her feet, making sure not to hurt her.
"That's it, Miss Esandolyn..."
She thought to struggle, thought to fend against the two men knowing she would emerge relatively unscathed, she was trained after all, but her hopes were shattered under his vice like grip.
Unnaturaly strong, he pressed her flesh to to her bone, and to her skin, he brought the cold point of a knife that whispered persuasive threats that warned her to stay put.
Two more people entered the room, dressed as though they were attending a cabaret, blacks and whites in cottons and silks.
They swarmed her, tightly holding on to her arms and clothes, dragging her by chains made of her own limbs.
"Let us be off, Isolde."
G.I.JOE! Wickes cool! My brother has beena huge help with supporting me lately. I definitely wanna get more these figures! Hope everyone enjoys them! I got creatively violent lol
Homelander getting fucked up by HULK
🌹The beauty about your dark truth 🪻
ARGENTI X KNIGHT!F!READER
🪻PROLOGUE🌹
I have seen many scenarios with argenti x reader I even have seen one with a reader being a knight of beauty but i have never seen one with reader being a knight but not the kind that argenti is.
So this was born 😃
Also this is my first time writing something soo big.
(also this is based in my hsr oc that i ship argenti with, but i had the vision to also turn it into x reader ,so i have replaced my oc with reader 😃)
Find more from me here!
In a few words:
Imagine a knight!reader who is aloso a knight but not of beauty but the opposite. Of the negative feelings. And they go by a name Knights of Dark Truth.
Who fed those inside people to show them how rude and unfair life is. And that the "beauty" they all think is nothing but a lie.
All of this only because in their planet many centuries ago someone got so injured that changed everything about those people. And lead to make everyone like him, a full mess full of ugly "things" likescars, burns, bandages, stitches.
And with all of them being full in scars, burns, bandages, stitches, and only know how to show these motions: disgust, anger, and madness. But they still fell the rest of them but don't know how to express them to people they care.
Since they only have been show how to fight since they were a little kid. And with no empathy towards others.
.......................................................
Warnings: murder, poison, violence, maniac, depression, burns, bandages, stitches. Probably spelling mistakes, kinda of yandare?, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO PLS DON'T ATTACH ME!
No warnings: our little knight Argenti doesn't show up for long but still (🤡 sorry but he doesn't play sooo much role in this one here but in the following yes) reader is called princess.
So keep going and enjoy your meal
"Once upon a time. Long time ago far far away there was a planet. Full with the most beautiful things in the whole universe. Even though that almost everything was rotten and black.
Everything started when a man fully of armour finally got engaged with the woman of his life... She was the princess daughter of the emperor of this planet... the emperor of the planet that goes until now by the name Mávri Alítheia
Many people though that the name was weird and didn't make sense. But in reality it had a dark meaning. With the word mávri meaning black or in our situation dark. And the word Alítheia meaning truth
But there was a issue. A issue the royals could not dare to ignore. The man was from the poor. And even though that he was a knight they couldn't afford it. So they tried to break them up. By making the princess marry someone else.
And because the princess and he were deadly in love they couldn't make the princess marry someone else.
They were now in their 14 try to attend to get the princess marry some other prince. Also since shewas tried she said that if they try another time with this she will kill herself so they could leave her alone with the love of her life.
Her father was in his limits. Then an Idea come across his mind. He agree to marry his daughter to the poor knight. But only if he come back with the heads of the dragons emperor. The king's and the queen's head so he could prove he was worthto became a member of the royal family.
But why the heads? The answer was simple. So the people would have the dragons under their control. To make tham part of their army. All because the king's selfish personalitie to not let his daughter marry who she wants. He put the knight in this mission because he knew that he wouldn't come back again. The land of the dragons were a dangerous place. And if a human dare to step in he would die in seconds.
So you can't imagine his reaction when that knight comes after two weeks with what he asked him. Then he became amazed and asked him his name.
-What is your name young knight?- the emperor said in a strict tone to seem dangerous
-My name isn't important to you..But I will make sure you know it when you leave your last breath.... Father in law..heh- he said to him.
So the days became weeks then months and the day that they would get married comes.
The princess and he were happy that they will finally get their happy ending.
.
.
.
.
But fate had other plans... When the moment of their kiss come to make their marriage official the princess collapse in the floor. The knight panic and fast sit down next to his princess now wife.
Everyone was in shock. Even more when it comes out that the princess had a heart attack and die. That day becomes the day that all the planet will be mourns her death for the entirety that comes to this planet. Everyone was mourns her death everyone except from one ... Her father he had a grin that didn't show sadness of anything that everyone had.
------------ ------------
Two years had passed it was that day again for our dear knight that lost his darling two years ago. Hw was on his way yo the castle. Angry and mad was in his face in his way in the throne. He had discover something.. something that would change everything.
When the doors slap open the emperor jump out of suprise with the unwanted visitor in that hour _it was almost time for dinner_. Then the knight started yelling at the emperor
-HOW COULD YOU EVEN TO THIS TO YOUR OWN DAUGHTER?! TO US?! WE COULD BE HAPPY BUT YOU CHOOSE TO NOT! WHY!?- the knight said with his sword show now to the emperor. The emperor had to put a relax and clam face so he wouldn't be read by him.
-I have no idea what you are talking about kni-.- he was cut by the sword now next to his face. Gace now that draws fear with what he sees. The now knight was up from him. Only a few breaths away.
-I know everything..that cake the wine before the ceremony! HOW COULD YOU! HOW COULD YOU EVEN CHOOSE TO POISON YOU OWN DAUGHTER ONLY BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO BE WITH ME!... But it doesn't matter anymore because if you remember correctly my king, I tell you my king you will learn my name when you leave your last breath.- now the knight had a sadistic smile almost maniac to his face that leave the emperor breathless. The he talks again. - Arthur~-
Then a sound appeared. The sound of the emperor's head in the floor.
Then all the guards in the room started to clap. They all knew Arthur's plan. They were all with him. They wanted him to become the next person to rule. No he wasn't violent..he was just broken. So with that he walks to the head and takes the corona and put's it in his head with a sign of relief leaving his mouth and walks back to the throne and push the body away so he could sit on the throne.
When he did he make his first order as the new king -"Take this thing away from me..but don't clean it's blood from the floor..it will be there to show what i do to those you don't listen ~"-..when the guards take the body away and he was left with only two of them he said - now we can leave in peace my darling.. -
He had found out about the poison cake and wine the ex emperor had give his daughter two years ago but he didn't know that the princess never died..
-You can come in my darling and sit with me ,my dear Amelia ~-
Then the princess came in from the doors...but something was not the same about her . It was like she was rotten and beaten up by something.
Well since in the wedding day the princess never really died. She had passed away and after weeks she was awake and her beauty "gone". The poison didn't work. And had only damage her body inside out. But she had her dear Arthur by her side. He hide her from her father for teo years. He was supporting her to accept her new her. And that he could change the meaning of beauty just for her. And he did in fact.
That lead to the following army to be trained with dragons which was by itself dangerous. Tgat were not enough. The must difficult and dangerous training was put in the knights. Which was chosen by the age 5 to train so they could follow the moto.
"The more you know how to fight the more easily you will share the truth about this galaxy to everyone. Everyone who is blind by the knight of beauty and their aeon Idrila!"
They were kids training to become "saviours". But at one cost they weren't allowed to show emotions to anyone.
And to make sure his bloodline will always be treat right by anyone. He make all the following descent of his family to be generals and emperors.
So they could always share the true around.
And with that he cast a spell so his bloodline would always be strong and brave. But at the cost that they will not fell the opposite feelings until they meet the one.. the one that faith has braw the lines for them.
And that spell will cast at the pregnant woman that carries that future heir ,that will leave a small symbol in parts of their body but usually in their upper body especially the neck and face. So they could be recognised by everyone.
And this was the end of our dear saviour and his darling ~"
.............................
Then the maid end the story that she was saying to the girl. Who was in the other side of the room. That she turn to look at whene she closed the book.
"hmmm...Is something wrong princess? You didn't like the story? I thought that was your favourite one?" said the maid to the little girl.
In the other side of the room there was a little girl, no older than 7,who looked out of her giant window to the stars in the night sky.
She was related to the person everyone called their "saviour". So technically she was the "princess" of this planet.
"It's not that nana Rita ... it's just ...*sign* i have heard this story many times. I know her by heart. But tonight the stars are ... Beautiful and it feels warm and cosy to just look at them" said the princess. She was laying in the window and her hair was slipping in the side and you could see her mark in her forehead. A little small simple symbol. The symbol was mostly like a "eye" someone would say but no. It was more like a star with something in the centre that looked like the called "eye". The same symbol that runs in her family for so many many many years.
The called nana Rita joined the girl that she had looked after her birth. Since she was orphan. Her father died two months before she came to this world, and her not so dear mother was killed because of not caring for her and husband's heir and wanted to get married again and put someone else in the throne.
The little girl didn't had the childhood nana think she deserves. Since she was something like the new ruler since she closed 6 the last year. And with the training she was put in.
She sat next to the little girl.
"Yes princess (y/n) . They are in fact... much like how you tell.. your always so wise and smart to describe things. And always right "
"Nana .. may i ask something?"
"Of course my princess" nana rita said and put her hand in
(y/n) haid to start petting her. She had a feeling what she was going to ask so she was somehow prepared.
"That .. tonight is the last time that we..we will spend... Master William said that tomorrow will be ...your..."
"Yes my princess this is the sad dark truth.. it's my time now to go...but don't mind your little young mind yet."
"Will ..you miss me?" Said (y/n)
"Every single moment.. and i will ask you my dear yo stay strong you will be there and i would like to see you stay strong while my time has come... and i will try to watch you from there"
"I know... I will miss you too nana Rita! I WILL STAY STRONG LIKE YOU SAID!...even when they will cut your head off..."
The both of them knew this time would come. It was a tradition for the future heir to kill the woman that looks after them.. and to (y/n) , nana Rita had only lived because she was a mother . She had watched her father grow. She had tell the princess storys from her father's mission until he leaved his last breath. She was like her grandmother. But because of their faith she was only allowed to call her nana Rita according to her grandfather, her teacher in fighting, to be a good leader and ruler, the only person that gives her advice to her from since she toke the throne last year, her grandfather, Master William.
Master William had made it clear to them to not get close to each other. But Nana and the princess couldn't. They had the bont of grandma and granddaughter.
"Come on my dear. It's time for bed. We don't want you to be tried tomorrow. It's your special day. You will get the spear of the legacy! " Nana said with a warm smile when she noticed that (y/n) started to falling asleep.
"Yeah...*yawn*.we should ho to bed.." she got picked by nana Rita and she put it er in her bed and cover her with her covers.
"Sweet dreams my dear sweet brave princess..." Said and plase a good night kiss in her forehead where her symbol was.
"Good night nana..." Said before she gets in Dreamworld.
Nana Rita started getting in her way out of the room and when she was about to close the door she whispered
"I know you will be the perfect empress our kind has ever seen...may the aeons give you their blessings... and you may find your one soon after you be set as general when you get 15..wise, and kindness my dear (y/n)... Good bye~"
____________🌹_____________
Somewhere far far away. In a different planet, there was a little boy in a garden, he was admiring the rose that was growing. The rose that match his hair. His rose red hair that were put in a little ponytail and with one white hair stride in ther front of his bags. He was older than 7. And he was called-
"ARGENTI ARGENTI IT'S TIME FOR LUNCH!! COME ON!" his friend called him
"In a moment ...but first come over here! You gotta see this beauty"..he said to turn once again his attention where once was before his friend show up.
So his friend listen to him and walk until he stop behind him. And stand in confusion.
"Emmm Argenti... This is emmm a rose that has started to rot...?"
"Exactly!" He smiled with eyes closed "but is also beautiful in it's own way..you see even like this ... it's truly a beauty , right!?"
"...emmm how about we go inside, everyone is waiting for us."
"Oh right!" He grabbed his friend's hand and started to run inside the mansion. "Lunch is one of the most important things in someone's day! Especially when later they have training! We are the future knights that will speak the truth about beauty! And to find the only true beauty being, Idrila!"
".. Argenti....we are still under training!.. don't look sooooo far into the future!"
The two little boys ran inside laughing.
.
The two young boys were in mansion that belonged to the knights of beauty.
Even though they were learnt to be gentle and kind to everyone they had an enemy they despise with all their ego.
The Knights of Dark Truth. Tgey believe they speak lies to people around the universe. So tgey learn to hate them without even realising it .
____________🌹_____________
Knights of beauty...the most hated enemy of her planet...the army.. and most of all her people believes. The princess has read many books about them. About the battles between the two armys had in the past. They hated this community.. only because they were speaking and manipulated people around the universe about that everything is beautiful and there is nothing ugly... only because they were doing the opposite that the Knights of Dark Truth.
.
.
.
.
.
So different...the princess and the little boy. The princess with a rough future and the boy with a maybe more light who always carries a rose with him.
They were learnt to hate each other, even though they never met face to face.
So different , but at the same time so similar.
But...who knows? Maybe fate was some plans for those two in their future.
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.
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🪻🖤❤️🩹🌹
Bye
billford animatic i made to the song 'confrontation'! ^^
I’m a Scorpio Rising #zodiac #zodiacsigns #zodiacmemes #zodiacposts #astro #astrology #astrologyposts #scorpio #scorpiomemes #scorpiorising #shy #shygirl #shyshyshy #top #tøp #toptags #topenergy #quiet #quiettime #quietmoments #quietthechaos #quietinthewild #quiettillyouknowme #wild #evil #violence #violent #violentfemmes #anger #angerissues https://www.instagram.com/p/CKC5kUlpvXN/?igshid=17ba4rvuo2emd
okay imma bffr...
i started watching BOB because i had seen the scene of gene and babe in the fox hole where gene calls babe "babe" for the first time. I was over here thinking "oh theyre little gay boys i want to watch wwii gay boys!!"
AND I MADE IT THRU TEN EPISODES ONLY TO FIND OUT THAT MOST OF THESE MEN ARE ACTUALLY REPUBLICAN
Wolf! Wolf!
Okay, so this week’s six requires a gore warning. The word was fountain, provided by girlontheedge, and from starting my writing this week on twitters #trickortweet, I started in the horror mind frame. The language is a little inconsistent, but I felt trying to fix the end would ruin it, so I let it go. It was like a fountain of blood jetting out from his arm, and it seemed impossible that so…
View On WordPress
Little post where I put my violent thoughts.
I will concern.
UHHHH IVE NEVER WRITTEN BEFORE, Don’t know how to tag and I didn’t proofread cause I’m real lazy. also kinda stupid, i probably used the same metaphors and similes like a million times. So uh, yeah. Read at your own discretion, I’ll tag what I think is important so read pls
TWS & MENTIONS—— Torture, blood, goreish, betrayal, heavy angst, overall gruesome and violent, mentions of relationship with simon ghost riley (implied but heavily), angst angst angst and more angst with a side of angst. Did I mention angst.
That’s it I think lmk if I missed any? Okay enjoy, hopefully!
Inspo and plot credit to users ghouljams & criminalamnesia !!!
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When your vision blurs and your eyes fog up— you can’t make sense out of the coarse pangs of pain running up your sides, down your legs and through your nose. For the first time in your life, it’s a weary weekend evening and you happen to be tied up to a splinting wooden chair in the middle of a dark warehouse. You think the red running down and dripping onto the floor is your own blood, but again, you can’t see. A fist collides against your stomach once, twice, then thrice, and finally relents.
"P…please— stop," You recognize your voice alongside the ringing in yours ears. Panicked— desperate. Your hands twitch behind your back on instinct, a deep familiar instinct to grab those hands and soothe your thumbs over those scared knuckles.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Price grumbles. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen— not your betrayal, not the torturing, and most insistently— not the feelings that hit him when it all came crashing down. The pang in his heart planted the thought and truth that you were practically family. He shakes his head before slamming a door behind him.
“Fuckin’ hell is right!” Simon yells back, slamming down his mask onto the table. He catches a look at your blood smeared over it and anger flares up and over his lips again.
You look at his face and you think you’ve never seen him make that expression. You’ve seen the best and worse of him. You’ve seen the face he makes when he’s afraid, the one he’s made when he cries and his shoulder shake with sobs. It scares you how foreign they he looks now. Ten feet can’t feel anymore distant than right now. Tears boil over onto your red and purple cheeks, voice cracking and quiet.
“I didn’t— I wouldn’t! I was with Gaz all the whole time, tell them Gaz!” You manage and don’t notice how through your fading conscience, you omit and slur words together. When Gaz averts his eyes you can’t help but wonder who’s the real traitor in this whole ordeal.
“You abandoned your post, left Sergeant Gaz to fend for himself, didn’t answer none of your fuckin’ callsigns,” Simon steps closer. You flinch.
“Why?” He yells. “Fuckin’ speak!” Fear runs rampant through your veins and you can’t recognize this man. This man is angry and unrecognizable, and you can’t for the life of you believe why.
“Please, Simon— I didn’t. I wouldn’t.” A few words go unsaid in the wake of pain.
“Good at lying, aren’t you?” Simon steps close. He’s quick to pull out his infamous sleek knife out one of his holders and slice it across your shoulder. Warm blood trickles down and you let out a cry so raw it hurts your throat. It hurts, burns— but nothing sears more than the look he gives you.
You shake your head and sob out. This can’t be seriously be happening. You were just returning from hiding after the Mexican cartel stormed you and Gaz’s recon location. You ran until your lungs gave out and when you thought you were safe, Johnny had tied your wrist behind your hands and forced you down onto your knees with a rougher than usual hand.
Confused, you panted out. A joke, perhaps? You look around with a small smile. It drops as quick as it formed and it’s almost comical how fast it all happened. One second your legs were aching from running and the next it was from the cut of a choppy knife. The hand that used it was just as choppy, rigid, tense.
“Please, I didn’t do it! I didn’t fucking do it!” Your voice shakes with hurt and anger. “Why won’t you all believe me!” Your voice tears out of your throat. Simon slams his hand down on a table and the noise beats fear into you and gets your heart pounding.
Silence ensues and you could’ve sworn it was worse than being tortured. Your own fucking force members. Eight years, rough and painful years, for one bark from Shephard to tear everything down and away from you.
It takes a few more beatings from Simon for it to get through your hazy mind—He’ll kill you; Right here, right now. Your history can’t save you in the face of betrayal.
When your body is bruised and raw with cuts and you can’t place anything anymore, only then are you granted a silence. Like a madman, captain Price swings open the door of the room he had cowered into.
“Fucking hell, Simon! Stop!” He pulls Simon’s arm back, voice taut and if you could see, you’d see the guilt in the blue of his eyes. His words are like a bite in the neck to everyone in the dark room.
“Shephard conned us. He— Fuck!” He grabs the bloody knife out of Simon’s hand and throws it onto the ground.
“He and graves fucked us over. Lied to Laswell and the rest of us ate it up like fucking dogs!” He yells. Frustration pounds guilt into his head.
Simon’s hand goes limp and you don’t get the satisfaction of seeing guilt seep and set into his face. It would’ve been funny had it not been due to the weight of it all.
“Shit. Shit, shit!” Price runs up to you, eyes frantic as he look over your wounds. Raw, teared and sliced open. Bruised beyond recognition.
You can’t even respond to his hands holding together some of your wounds, the panicked yells between Soap and Gaz, the pale silence from Simon. It’s too quick, you think. That or your mind is slowing down. Most likely the latter.
Beneath the surface
Summary : Rafe Cameron has always been intense, but there's a darkness within him that few ever see. For a long time, he managed to keep it buried, but not anymore. You’ve always known he had a mean streak, but you never thought it would be directed at you. Now, you're about to see just how rough and physical he can really get.
Warnings : Physical and emotional abuse, Dubious consent, Manipulation and Power imbalance, Violence, Dark themes
You’ve always been drawn to the fire in Rafe Cameron's eyes, the way he carried himself with an arrogant confidence that could both repulse and attract. He was a storm you couldn’t help but walk into, even if you knew you’d end up drenched.
Tonight was no different.
The tension between you had been simmering for weeks, every conversation laced with barely concealed anger, every touch tinged with something darker. But tonight, something had snapped in him. You saw it in the way his eyes flashed when you disagreed with him, in the way his jaw clenched tight enough to crack.
You weren’t backing down though, not this time. You were tired of his domineering attitude, of the way he treated everyone like they were beneath him. You couldn’t let him think he could treat you the same way.
“Stop it, Rafe,” you said, voice low but firm. “You’re not going to scare me into doing what you want.”
He laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound that sent a chill down your spine. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you?” he sneered, stepping closer, his tall frame towering over you. “You think you can handle me?”
Your heart raced, but you stood your ground, even as he closed the distance between you. His hand shot out, gripping your chin with a force that made you wince. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, voice dripping with menace.
You tried to pull back, but his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. “Rafe, stop,” you said, but your voice wavered, betraying the fear you were trying so hard to hide.
“Why?” he taunted, his eyes dark and wild. “Afraid you might like it?”
Before you could respond, he pushed you back against the wall, the impact knocking the breath out of you. He was on you in an instant, his hands rough as they pinned your wrists above your head. His body pressed against yours, trapping you in place.
“I’m done playing nice,” he growled, his lips brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You’re mine, and it’s time you learned what that really means.”
You shivered, a mix of fear and something else washing over you. Rafe’s touch was rough, his movements aggressive, but there was an undeniable heat between you, one that you hated yourself for feeling.
“You’re hurting me,” you whispered, hoping that would make him ease up, but he only smirked, his grip on your wrists tightening.
“Good,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Maybe that’ll make you listen.”
Rafe’s mouth was on yours before you could protest, the kiss hard and punishing. He didn’t kiss you like he loved you; he kissed you like he wanted to claim you, to mark you as his.
You tried to turn your head, to break away, but he wasn’t having it. His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could look into your eyes. “Don’t fight me,” he warned, his voice dangerously soft. “You won’t win.”
You glared at him, refusing to give in, but your resolve was crumbling. He could see it in your eyes, and it only fueled his dark desire.
“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a mockery of a gentle kiss. “I knew you’d come around.”
But this wasn’t coming around. This was Rafe using his strength, his power, to get what he wanted, and it terrified you how easily he could do it. How easily you could fall for it.
“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Please.”
Something flickered in his eyes then, a brief moment of hesitation, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “You think I’ll stop because you’re scared?” he asked, his tone cold. “You think that matters to me?”
You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. You were too consumed by the fear, the confusion, the way your body was betraying you, responding to his rough treatment in ways you didn’t want to admit.
Rafe’s grip loosened slightly, but his presence was still overwhelming, still suffocating. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over your ear. “You’ll learn to love this,” he whispered, a promise laced with dark intent. “You’ll learn to love me.”
And in that moment, you knew it wasn’t just a warning. It was a threat. Because Rafe Cameron wasn’t just mean, rough, and physical. He was dangerous. And now, you were trapped in his darkness.
Whether you could find your way out... that was something only time would tell.
these are sooo mecoded
Starting a collection
(Evil autism flag, kind autism flag, silly autism flag, tired autism flag, posh autism flag, strange autism flag, slutty autism flag, sleepy autism flag, confused autism flag, and perky autism flag, in that order, btw. Tag yourself)
