i’m having way too much fun with designing PoE ocs
this is nogah they’re on fire all the time, and are missing an arm.
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i’m having way too much fun with designing PoE ocs
this is nogah they’re on fire all the time, and are missing an arm.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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born from a bit of lighthearted ribbing at @stokori, who has a minion tank build that is literally sickening
that build proceeded to carry the rest of our candy asses through the rest of act 4′s boss fights
I remember the time when my mum went full ham on a nurse because of my sister. I never understood why and I never knew how much emotion a child could bring. Much of my memory revolves around suddenly being with one less parent and being an only child temporarily but I think it’s weird how we can become complacent with ourselves whilst prioritising others.
My mum criticises me because I refuse to wear a coat in the cold, because I’m being picky with my food again, because I got sick and it could’ve been avoided if only I listened to my mum. My sister needed her bandages changed and instead of this the nurse is wrapping her leg in another layer of gauze - very unhygienic indeed.
I would never personally care much if I caught a cold but I’m finding myself getting stressed over the busy vet lines and my baby constantly biting his tail. And my sister is telling me I shouldn’t cry over it because it’s most likely nothing major but I can’t help feeling helpless, because if I could do anything to take his pain away I just know I would.
•••I don’t always sit and read a book but BABY you are the poetry that I read ,your thoughts running through my mind like the vision and dream I have for the future.your name engraved in my heart pierced with a love so deep that can’t be broken •
💟💟💟💟💟💙.
-There is no greater touch than a woman's touch!hands cold like an ice, a lips so soft sweeter than a honey for in pleasure I stare and gaze at you upon looking at the clouds nothing is sweeter than what God has made for mankind to enjoy in right and proper context under oath of faithfulness,commitment,love and in the home of marriage. Don't give in
🔐🔐

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
- I can't ask for someone wonderful with a kind heart,beautiful soul & a charming smile but you:BABY you are the perfect recipe that I need to complement Me and not complete Me for no human can complete you only God can .
❤️🔐
Tenho duas certezas na vida, uma que nunca iram me decepcionar e a outra que vcs são os melhores filhos do mundo ❤❤❤ #boa #Davi #Nogah #familia #instadog #labrador #filhos
@secunduslxgato
The Patriarchs of the Clans gathered at Raziel’s palace for the quarter annual Grand Tournament. Hand chosen by each Patriarch, the finest warriors from all the clans accompanied their respective sires, eager to compete in the Razielim coliseum, where they would be given the opportunity to demonstrate their clan’s prowess before the Council in the form of bloody combat.
The month long festivities were also a celebration of brotherhood between the clans. Every four years the tournament’s location passed to another clan: the Melchiahim, the Zephonim, the Rahabim, the Dumahim, the Turelim, and finally, the Razielim. After twenty years, Raziel once again took on the honor of hosting the games.
While the Council were guests of the palace, their fighters relaxed at the extravagant accommodations near the Razielim coliseum. Once Kain arrived at the palace, Raziel seized the opportunity to whisk him away on a tour of the city, regaling him with stories of his clan and their great accomplishments over the past two decades along the way, leaving Klara, Queen of the Razielim, and the rest of his harem to entertain the Patriarchs.
Klara approached Turel with a respectful bow. She wore a flowing crimson sash, exposing her taut thighs and latticed heels, with a halter top and elegant laced gloves ringed with gold bangles, exemplifying the bold fashions of her clan. A dark shall draped across her shoulders, patterned like a bird of prey. Atop her brow sat a slender gold crown, resembling her clan symbol. Behind her and to one side stood a petite young woman with dark, curly hair, dressed in the pastel robes of a Razielim palace slave. She kept her hands folded in her lap, her shoulders straight and her head bowed, a practiced posture.
“Greetings, Brother Turel,” said Klara. “Raziel and I are pleased to welcome you back to our palace and wish luck to you and your sons in the Grand Tournament.”