"Her güzel kız biraz delidir zaten."
"Sen bana deli mi diyorsun?"
"Güzel de diyorum."
seen from China

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seen from United States
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seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Argentina
seen from Brazil
seen from China
"Her güzel kız biraz delidir zaten."
"Sen bana deli mi diyorsun?"
"Güzel de diyorum."
The Scarlet Witch
Sanguinary Shade Slayer, Bosco the Butcher, and the beholding night mares.
The hell horse is one of the many feral mutant beasts of the wastes, empowered by Demonic features, and Bosco travels under its shadow, long distances clutched on its back without being either seen or felt. Now dismounting after reaching the sector where his prey has been sighted. The Huntsman must respect the balance of Beasts, as he admires their freedom. "Leave this pit now, noble steed. It's about to get bloody". The perched up Butcher marks the kill, prowling like a buzzard, beholding the Behemoths plowing below in the quarry. He pulls up the bone carved death whistle and blows, transforming his breath into the harrowing howls of harpies, disturbing the tranquil pack as they stampede as horde.
The Butcher is called to cull this tide of flesh. Horizon set ablaze by the fumes of the fiends, conjuring fire from their bellies, forming a defensive whirlwind of baneful flames. Unbeknownst to the Behemoths, the Butcher is already crawling beneath their bodies, carving them up. Dark reins of black blood veins, the Slayer rides them, pulling their arteries to guide them against each other, collapsing the death spiral. The night mares contemplate the esoteric onslaught as each of the monstrous Behemoths is gored by its kindred, their bodies jerked along as if strung like puppets by a sanguine shade. Only under the brief glow of the eclipse sun, could those witnessing beast see the gleaming blades, flurrying and dancing amidst the blood, fire and sand. Each striking true, not a motion wasted, throats severed, bones and flesh preserved impeccably. Only a handful is slain rightly, and half the horde is sparred, allowed to flee and mend their self inflicted wounds. Behind stayed the Flayer of Fiends, carving up the carcasses he bled to death without being ever perceived. The night mares agreed approached, and silently the Butcher Bosco knew to leave succulent offerings to these noble beasts. This flesh shall make them strong as he wishes to be. . . . Art by Eliz Bee: https://bsky.app/profile/elizbee.bsky.social
SOFY I JUST FINISHED WATCHING DPS AND I AM SCREAMING
now all i wanna do is write a 10 page essay on it omg
OH MY GOSHJSJS
THAT WAS LIKE MY SAME REACTION BUT WITH SO MANY TEARS
dhosjsjd i’d gladly read it if you will
but oh my gosh what’d you think about it? were you surprised by the end? ‘cause i was so frustrated trust me plsjsjd
ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ,
ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ'ꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ,
ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ?
ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ'ꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ,
ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ꜰɪɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ.
ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ: https://twitter.com/Killer_Keigo
I'm done with the #drawyourocinthischallenge :D My OC Eliz looks good in lingerie. I should draw her more often xD
A wax figure of Queen Elizabeth II -Madame Tussauds on December 11, 2018 in Berlin, Germany. - Source: Getty Images Europe
What do you think?
Peregrination
Garen knelt by the artifact and picked up the magical stone. He didn’t bother dusting himself off, the weight of it felt heavy in his hand. How many lives were sacrificed? All for just this one little stone. He was glad he intervened when he did. The opposing parties were at each others throats for years, each side vying for the power within the stone. It only served to reaffirm his dislike of magic.
The old building that housed the magical stone was new, and built hastily. It was no wonder it was torn apart so easily by enemy invaders. The stink of bodies, hot metal and ash permeated the air and choked his senses. Garen coughed and used the blue cloth around his neck to block out some of the smoke. That didn’t stop it from stinging his eyes and blurring his senses. Burned wood smoked and crackled, parts of the building still smoldering. He emerged, dazed and confused, unsure which side he had come out of. One of his lieutenants was running up the hill to check on him, his worried face a relief to the tired general.
That’s when he felt the first pull.
Garen tried to walk forward but was shoved back by an invisible force. Confused, he tried again, his feet sliding in the grass as he was forced backwards once more. He couldn’t figure out what exactly was wrong until he saw the lieutenant stop abruptly, eyes wide and mouth agape at something behind Garen.
He tried to look behind him to see what caused the shocked reaction, but his hand suddenly stared to burn. The stone artifact was glowing bright and hot in his hand, and before he knew it something sucked him backward and for Garen, the world went white. He was deaf as well as blind for only a moment, but it was enough to disorient him.
The next thing he knew, he was face first on the floor. Or what he hoped was the ground. It felt like he had been flung by a catapult and landed just as gracefully as he might have imagined. He gasped for breath, his hair and skin singed and smoking. The parts of him beneath his armor were untouched by whatever it was that just happened to him. He cursed and groaned as he tried to roll over. Maybe his lieutenant would have a better idea of what happened.
Instead of his lieutenant, Garen looked up to see bizarre creatures hovering around him. Panic set in, and the soldier rose quickly. He stumbled to his feet and pain shot through his body. He finally dropped the blackened stone that had nearly adhered itself to his closed fist, now devoid of any magical properties it had.
Damnable magic.
@niluith-moonlady