No title available
Three Goblin Art
tumblr dot com
$LAYYYTER
Keni

Andulka

Kiana Khansmith
Cosimo Galluzzi
noise dept.
Sade Olutola

No title available
🪼

Janaina Medeiros
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Mike Driver
Jules of Nature
KIROKAZE
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies

seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Canada
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from Kenya

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@aperfectworldofwarrior
Redemption and forgiveness.
He sat cross-legged on the edge of the sandy beach in Eversong, due west of Silvermoon along the sea.
It was remote but not so remote as to have been infested with Murlocs yet. Quite safe to bring the children and let them play on the beach and in the warm waves that slowly lapped at the sand.
Jeroden.
Jeroden's reaction to Roland refusing to fight him had the somewhat predictable response he'd hoped for. Somewhere deep in the boy's mind was a sense of honor that hadn't been completely destroyed by his father, Roland had gambled his life on it.
"What do the bards sing of you? Any of it true?"
Roland sat back in his chair heavily, silent for a moment as he thought seriously about the question, swishing the glass of whiskey he had in his hands and staring into it, as if all the answers were somehow deep inside the glass.
He took a long sip, the familiar warmth running slowly down his chest bringing a quick smile to his face and perhaps enough confidence to try and answer the rather difficult question.
“There was a time in the not so distant past I wished nothing more than to have songs written of me, I may even have thought myself worthy.”
He said with a dry chuckle, taking another long swig of his drink as he began shaking his head.
“No, there will be no songs sung about me, perhaps a cautionary tale or two is all.”
He added, laughing dryly again at his own joke.
“Some things are better left unsaid and in the shadows. We all have skeletons perhaps, some more than others…But I have no wish for any action of mine to be remembered.”
He sighed, finishing the bourbon and setting the glass down.
He was silent again for a long moment, trying to choose his next words carefully, his brow furrowed in thought as he steepled his hands in front of him and rested his chin against them.
“It has taken some time, but I've come to accept that not all of us turn out to be the man we wished to be.” He said with a shrug and a small smile.
Memories.
Roland’s eyes moved over his small and sparsely furnished office, shaking his head in silence as he enjoyed a glass of his favorite bourbon, a large cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth.
It was not lost on him how far he had fallen, just a look around his office was proof enough of that. There were many reasons business was not as good as it used to be in Stormwind, the weapons he often smuggled in years ago were now legal, plummeting the value.
His contacts had dried up after his three years in the stocks as well, losing touch with old suppliers who had themselves been caught or moved on. His network was rather small now, almost useless he thought to himself with an audible sigh.
Taking another long drag of his cigar he thought about his current problem, the one that kept him up at nights and going out after dark very little.
Jeroden….
There was one thing true about your past he mused, you can run, you can drown it in drink, you can change geography and your identity. It was all a waste of time, it always caught up. This time in the form of a full grown man who Roland had failed to raise properly and failed his mother spectacularly.
His step son had found him and wanted the sweet taste of revenge, Roland hardly blamed him. The past with his late wife was a painful memory, as was his failure with them both.
The memories flooded back like a wave and he fought in vain to block them out, taking a breath, and reliving the moment. He knew the words he spoke to her before she jumped from that window, he could not forget them even if he tried and he had many times.
Jeroden wanted Roland's head, and he didn’t even know the half of it.
Roland had caused her death, he knew that now. As much as he was able to deny it all those years ago. Roland might as well have pushed her out the window himself, he practically did with only his words.
I never loved you!
I loved your sister instead!
He took a long swig of his whiskey, trying to drown the memories once again, or at least make them a distant whisper in his head, the words replaying...Watching her fall....He shook his head to clear it but it was all playing out again and again. It had ever since Jeroden had come back into his life. Like a living reminder of his past and failures.
He had decided to move back home only recently, and was currently tying up his affairs for a return long overdue . Stormwind was a stinking city, he could never get used to the smell, and just thinking of his old home finally made him smile. Jeroden finding him had only made him more determined to leave.
He wouldn't fight Jer, the only thing that could make him feel more guilty would be to kill the boy. But Jer wanted blood and Roland had no deathwish. Jer reminded him of his father now, and that was a terrifying thing. Roland was not even sure he could beat him, he had never bested his father in all the years, and Jer was almost the image of Kaeion now.....
Yes, running, going home, he would let others label it. All he knew was that the further the better from Stormwind.
It was time to go home.
It was time to go to Silvermoon again.
Just found out that "two fingers of whiskey" does not mean slowly caressing the bottle and gently teasing its hole until that beautiful decanter of delicious brown liquid can take you inside itself and moans your name into your shoulder but does in fact just mean two ounces
To fucking old for a hangover.
💔
cats are full of love and violence. can relate.
Cebina Ruavin
Race: Ren’dorei
Age: 120 years
Sexuality: Heterosexual / Aromantic
Profession: High End Escort and Relic Hunter
Addictions: Void and money
Marital Status: Single
Cunning, self serving and patient, Cebina is only interested in power and money. Using her body as a means to get close to people, she will lie, use, and kill, without hesitation or regret, in order to get what she wants.
Current Situation: Enjoying mingling with the Venthyr in the high courts of Revendreth, finding leverage where she can while acquiring whatever items of interest she can find.
FC: Kate Upton
looking for more people to follow~! please like / reblog if you share similar interests!
🩷 anime
🧡 nintendo
💛 world of warcraft
💚 final fantasy
🩵 stardew valley
💜 sanrio
🖤 art
100% sfw!
The fallen Knight of Ishgard. Rp blog/stories for Dark knight Aranel Lafreniere. Disgraced knight and mercenary, Primal server, FF14
2021 killed me, not literally of course. I'm still alive, just one hell of a year. Here's to a better one :)
#ooc
Bitch….
The only thought that went through his mind as he watched the Ren'dorei walk away from him. Her sway was graceful and alluring, but above all else purposeful. He knew this, but still he could not help but be entranced as he watched her leave.
The woman of serpents was tormenting him, toying with him, and her reasons were beyond him up to this point.
It could be as uncomplicated as entertainment for her, a simple pleasure to plague him, or it could be something he could not foresee, something much worse, and Sylrissa was involved, and in that, his daughter. There was no denying this, there were others tangled in this, others he cared a great amount for. The thought of hurting them literally made him beside himself. It was seething in him, there was little else on his mind as of late, as he tried in vain to figure out her motives.
The whiskey and the noise of the Inn were not helping, his mood growing darker, he knew it was time to leave. The proposition had been made, a deal struck, and he would be damned if he made the wrong decision, as he was always apt to, especially with a woman like her. She reminded him of times forgotten, it was hard to think straight when he was around her, she was like some ghost from his past sent to haunt him.
Manipulative, vain, smart, and above all else, the attraction he felt. It was like a fire within him, he drank and numbed it, distracted himself as best he could with other women, but it was to little avail.
He had to have her, if only for a moment.
He knew his answer the moment she asked him, his mind had to play tricks of course, the little voice in his head he never listened to when dealing with the likes of the damn snake lady.
He left the Inn, making a long walk to his new home. Empty yet, but for a few necessities, he was suddenly very tired and needed sleep, it was a long trip to Qual'thalas and he planned to leave in the morning.
Stripping down, his mood was foul now, another drink before bed...Another drink to silence the voice, the damn voice, it was so loud sometimes, the void helped, as did the whiskey, but he heard it, and he heard it loud this night.
No matter.
I am what I am.
@maeskia @laceandhalos for mentions