#thebadguy

😼🔫 /danger zone/ #cat #cats #mistery #dangerzone #gun #wine #spy #thebadguy #gato #coat #furcoat #characterdesign #digitalart #artistoninstagram #instaartist #70s https://www.instagram.com/p/B2A6UA8j15m/?igshid=1ofujy9bosmko

cartoon: Wander Over Yonder

Pray IV Reign. ☔️ #mood #thebadguy #infinitywar #jetpackdrip #alltimehigh #worldwide #clothingline #apparel #urbanfashion #worldwide #hustle #grind #inspiration #selfmade #lifestyle #entrepreneur #success #veryrare #mensfashion #fashion #nyc #motivation #greatness #vibes #brand #picoftheday #like4like #follow #bedope #fly (at Titan)

@Regrann from @iamjamiefoxx - Go see me and this young man tear up the movie screen! #babydriver is in theaters now!! People are lovin it! @ansel kills it! 100% rotten tomatoes #babydriver #thebadguy #backonmyfunnyshit

Dedicated to all the villains ever created. My feet have darkened by the hard labour in the yellow musty fields, my blouse is worn out by the trickling heat and sweat. I was 15 when I worked as one of the many human slaves in the wheat plantations of the Summer Court. I also deliver the harvest every where in Hybern and Prythian, including the Spring Court. The Spring Court always seemed so magnificent, with its magical trees bearing an assortment of peaches, lush apples and pears in one tree spoiled me with the choices to eat easily on a long day’s journey and some rest from the thick shades of this canopy. I walked into the Spring Court palace and there he was. The High Lord of the Spring Court. He looked majestic as always. Every time, the very moment I step into his presence, my heart swoons like anything. His beautiful broad shoulders and upright gait, his sparkly eyes and well trimmed stubble would always get to me. I see him greeting some important people one by one, oh the sparkle of his eyes sparkle even more when he smiles. So truly, so genuinely. What an honest smile he has. But that very moment, I look down at the state of my dress, the creases and the never ending patchwork done by an unskilled tailor. I remember the unkempt red hair on top of my head. Flotus was someone who I could never have, not in a million lifetimes. Not with my feeble human feet and crass frisky hair. I enter to offer this week’s harvest to the man in charge while stealing glances of the one I truly loved. I felt ashamed of the butterflies fluttering in my stomach as if someone could see what's going on inside me. “Papa! Papa! I want to go horse riding with you! Please! Please! You promised!” Little Tamlin says as he comes running to his father and picks him up. Flotus replies, “Patience Tamlin boy, patience! We'll go in the evening, I promise.” Such grace, such elegance can't be found anywhere in Prythian. “No! You always say that but you never-“ Just then, I tripped, spilling some of the wheat on the floor and the only clothes that I own. Asherah, she tripped me. She put her leg across while I was walking to wherever I had to go… In all her majestic pearls, shiny silk cascading down her waist. The daughter of the devil has come in form of the daughter of the High Lord of the Spring Court. I mouth a curse under my breath and look up at her. At those eyes. She's almost my age. “What happened?! Are you okay?” Flotus comes towards us. “I am fine” I reply. He comes closer to Asherah, holding her shoulders and speaks to me in a stern voice, “I was not talking to you, I was asking my daughter Asherah.” “Yes I am okay your majesty Father, it’s just the peasant girl was in my way,” she says in that fake well-behaved voice to her father. She looks toward me with bulging eyes and says, “And look at all this mess you have created!” “Apologize to Asherah this instant you lowly peasant! I will not tolerate such clumsiness in my palace!” He said looking down at me. I look at him in the eye without blinking, those blue eyes were about to hypnotize me. Even though they were meant to hurt me. I've never had a closer look at him. I could swear my feet were melting to the ground. But, my blood boils thinking of the embarrassment I felt. All because of this useless product of him standing in expensive drabs and colors, which, by no means fit her black personality. “Your Majesty, but… Your Highness, she tripped me, it was not my fault.” I say in a low voice but head held high. “How dare you talk back to me and blame my daughter for your irresponsibility! Bend down and apologize to her or get your head severed right now!” He speaks with a loud voice. I bend down, with the torturing pain of the peeling skin of my feet, my tight blouse about to rip apart if I bent even more. “I am sorry, Your Majesty, for the inconvenience I have cause you.” This shame never wore off and sparked little embers of anger- the sort of anger that would lead to my legacy of bloodlust and vengeance.

— The Bad Guy by Celia Aaron