#fel corruption

[dylan-grimmkell]

"Why be strong enough when there is stronger still?" ~ Grommash in the Warcraft movie.

Felgijak is an absolute until of a fel orc and loves the feeling of Fel flowing through his veins.

Thank you @Da_Ddy22 for this amazing art of my Orc Warlock.

Happy Orctober!

[warlordfelwinter]

campaign poster for the new game i'm running

featuring from left to right: Elomere (a man who doesn't have a tumblr) the swashbuckling rogue/fighter, Kansa (@konzaprairieunofficial) the storm sorcerer, Ara (@cappurrccino) the battlemaster gladiator, and Soteria (@chasing-kitsune) the oathbreaker paladin

[aderinola]

Sweden's Failure At Transportation

Sweden’s Failure At Transportation By Adeola Aderounmu Sweden is always trying to save the rest of the world from all unpleasant situations.  There are so many adventures that Sweden have undertaken since time immemorial. I remember a damaged pipeline off the American coast or where was again, Gulf of Mexico? Sweden was the country that succeeded in stopping the leakage and ending a potential…

[rivkael]

Riv as a dracthyr 👀

[ooc-miqojak]

The sun rises on a new day - golden fingers of light creeping along the lush greenery of the Isles bit by bit - a nervous lover's first gentle, exploring touches... and as it reaches me, it should alight the remains of a battlefield... and yet... all is silent save for the cries of the jungle's denizens.

The magma pit around which the Primalists conducted their business saves me from having to suffer the stench of rot, and death as I bask - as the cat that got the canary - in the pale light of dawn from which my family must have taken their name.

And I can't help but think that it's lonely.

I dislike that word, however - it lends the wrong sort of connotation to my situation in others' eyes - I say 'lonely', and what would another think? That I just... crave friendship, or a lover?

It's about more than that. Because naturally, yes - it is a lonely existence, mine. Not a one friend, and no one brave enough to do more than fetishize my darkness, and state of being - but even deeper down, past the superficiality of connection?

I am alone in who, and what I am.

Who can understand me? Who can understand what it is to wield the Light - something that is order, and hope and fulfills you...only to have that carved out in place of a magic that is the quite the opposite - a yawning void, a hunger, a buzzing of chaotic - often violent - need, and desire constantly in your head and under your skin? The only one who ever came close to understanding what it was like for me was Jericho - for who else knows the horrors of eternal hunger for the suffering of others like a Death Knight?

In the years that have passed, I wonder if he - like the Marquis that I fell prey to before - found a cure for his undeath. If he, too, shrugged off a state of being that I am now forced to suffer.

I was shrugged off, too.

I am utterly alone.

The Illidari are similar, sure - struggling against a quite literal inner demon (more than one, at that, oftimes) - but they are containers for demonic power... and I? I'm what - the thing they'll hunt, in time? I am not a container for a beast - I am the monster. Slowly, but surely, I change. I war with the inner darkness in a way they simply cannot understand - because at least their inner darkness isn't, actually, their own.

There are times I crave to just let the darkness take over - to win out, so I don't have to have moral quandaries between what I am, and what I'm becoming. Other times, I rail against it with every fiber of my being... but often find myself wondering why.

Why bother? Who am I fighting for, now?

I am isolated after all, in my darkness.

[catthattalks]

Here is a description of the text:

"Corroded by Sceleritas' insouciant perversion, this little gibus hat was worn by the Butler before he sank throat-deep into Bhaal's clutches. Once, it was beyond besmirchment. Once, it was lovely

yes larian, do keep fuelling my "Durge was the one who made Sceleritas, but Bhaal twisted him into yet another way to manipulate them" delusions

[felassan]

Dragon Age: "The release date for #DragonAge: The Veilguard will be revealed TOMORROW! We're excited to share this moment with our fans with a release date trailer, and in the coming weeks we'll also have high-level warrior combat gameplay, Companions Week, and more. 💜 Tune in to our next trailer HERE: [link]" [source]

The next Dragon Age: The Veilguard roadmap is here! The release date is being revealed tomorrow along with a new trailer!!

[Trailer premiere link]

Trailer video description:

"Return to Thedas in Dragon Age™: The Veilguard. Solas's ritual is interrupted - but at what cost? The corrupt Elven gods have broken free and are hellbent on blighting the world. It's up to you to unite the Veilguard and fight back against these ancient rulers." [source]

Roadmap dates:

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard Upcoming Reveals August 15th Release date trailer and announcement Week of August 19th High-level combat and PC spotlight (Fel note: "PC" here means computer, not player character) Week of August 26th Companions week August 30th Developer Discord Q&A September 3rd IGN First month-long exclusive coverage begins September Much more to come in September and beyond" [source]

[jammed-out]

(CW: Trance Inducing Language using repetition, mental imagery, and pleasure. No awakener.)

You couldn't remember how you got here. Everything was so dark and you couldn't move. You could feel something tight trapping your ankles and wrists in place. Your head had something heavy on it and no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, it wouldn't budge. And there was something inside of you, filling you, that you couldn't push out. You wanted to scream or cry for help, but there was something in your mouth, filling it entirely, keeping you from doing anything but groaning.

Beginning Mind Melt Procedure...

Your senses were blasted as a bright pink light filled your vision. Your eyes burned and you tried to close them to look away. You could see the pink light flashing, even behind your eyelids. The pulse wasn't rhythmic. It was random. It hurt your head even with your eyes closed. And then there was the sound. This white noise humming, but beneath it was a pulse, like a heart beat, thudding in your ears. Then there were hundreds of voices, at least that's what it sounded like, moaning and saying such perverse things. They all blended together and you could barely make out one without the other voices cutting it off a moment later. Your eyes opened, burning, immediately hit with the flashing pink light. Beneath it you realized there were pictures of people being fucked in all sorts of positions. They only lasted a second before the light blinded them out, making them disappear into the next. It didn't take long for it to start to work its way into your head. First the moans hit and you found a pattern to it, moaning yourself whenever it came around. Then there was this one image, a girl surrounded by dicks, you always caught eye of it when it popped up. Then it was the word "melt" it kept repeating in your ears, just slightly louder than everything else. You tried to struggle for a while, but soon it felt better to just try and focus on what they were saying. At least if you knew what you were dealing with you could fight it.

Mind Melt Successful. Beginning Mantra Training...

The pulsing slowed as the light slowly bent inward, spinning in on itself. You knew what this was, it was a spiral, you'd seen them before online. You found your gaze drawn to the pink light, letting it pull you down with it. Every time your vision got close to the center, you felt it slide back out, caught in another strand of pink as it pulled you back down to the center.

"Repeat after me. Letting go feels good. Letting go feels nice. I just need to relax and let go."

The words echoed in your ears, pulling your focus away from the spiral slightly.

"Repeat after me. Letting go feels good. Letting go feels nice. I just need to relax and let go."

You tried to focus on them, but after each phrase you felt yourself moan. You tried to stop yourself, but some part of you was still trapped to matching the moan from before. You had to change that. You mumbled around the gag, the new words slowly pushing their way out of your mouth, mixing with the moans. The more you said it, the more you found moaning after each phrase felt good.

"Repeat after me. Letting go feels good. Letting go feels nice. I just need to relax and let go."

You realized that the spiral pulled you down the perfect amount with each time you repeated the phrase. Falling back out to the top in perfect sync to start over. It was addicting and you were finding it hard to stop now that you understood the pattern. You just had to fight to keep it up.

"Repeat after me. Letting go feels good. Letting go feels nice. I just need to relax and let go."

Mantra Training Successful. Installing Identity Corruption...

"Letting go of your mind feels good. Letting go of your body feels nice. Give in to the pleasure and let go."

You felt the thing inside of you start to pulse, vibrating slowly at first before ramping up just in time with the spiral. It fell back down to the low setting, slowly climbing again. It felt good, but not good enough, just keeping you on the edge of pleasure.

"Letting go of your mind feels good. Letting go of your body feels nice. Give in to the pleasure and let go."

You found yourself repeating the words, mumbling through your gag. Sweat dripped down your forehead as you attempted to grind back against the thing inside of you, trying to get more pleasure out of it. Drool dripped off of your gag falling onto your chest.

"Letting go of your mind feels good. Letting go of your body feels nice. Give in to the pleasure and let go."

It was getting harder to think now, not that you wanted to think anyways. Letting go of your mind felt too good. And you realized it was getting harder to move your hips or hold your head up, not that you wanted to anyways. Letting go of your body felt to nice. You just wanted to sink down into the spiral and give into the pleasure and let go.

Corruption Complete. Reward...

You felt the vibrations pick up, your body shaking as the spiral flashed one word over and over.

"Cum."

It echoed in your ears everytime it flashed in front of your eyes.

"Cum."

You felt it pulse inside of your empty head with each call of the word.

"Cum."

You felt it pulse inside of your empty body with each time the vibrator pulsed.

"Cum."

You found these words to be true, echoing in every part of you. The only thing you'd ever known in your life.

"Cum."

You came screaming around the gag. Your body ached, arching as you squirted all over yourself. You trembled, aching in need for more. You needed more of this pleasure. Even wrapped in it you wanted more, needed more. Your head collapsed into your chest as you mumbled over and over the word cum, trapped in an endless feedback loop of pleasure.

Beginning Advanced Training. Initialize Full Mental Wipe...

[planet-dusk]

i sent this skz x 9th member!reader to another creator but forgot who it was so i’m sending it here too i guess. enjoy

i féel like the boys would def be little pervs towards their girl member. like “cuddling” her in the car on the way to places, having her sit in their lap during lives and stuff, constantly watching her boobs in tank tops during practice, etc something tells me chan or minho would be the biggest pervs out of the older boys but they know how to be subtle with it. meanwhile jisung and maybe jeongin are the the young ones who go absolutely crazy over anything. like her boobs could be out a little bc her tops are flimsy so they grab a handful and are lowkey fondling her but using the excuse that it’s helping keep her boobs in her bra or something. she’d def be very clueless but not entirely. like she knows that bc she’s a girl and they’re all guys, they have urges too. walking around the house in short and tight clothes, asking sexual questions, singing and dancing to sexy songs, etc they’d probably have a corruption kink too because of her “innocent but not really” aura. she’s innocent in the way that she’s just clueless when anyone so much as hits on her, likes her, try’s to make a move, etc

idk this was a while ago so maybe it’s just ramblings from my brain.

🏷️ perversion, noncon somno for jisung's part, corruption, fingering, oral (f + m), masturbation, unprotected sex, mc is called baby, kitten, doll, pretty, toy, slut

as the oldest and the leader of the group chan should know better. but you're so cute when you wake up early and your eyes are still puffy with sleep. he can't help but let his gaze linger on your bare legs, picturing his face between your thighs. sometimes when you join him on channie's room he'll run his teasing fingers over your clothed slit, enjoying the way you squirm and hide your hot face in your hands, pretending you're camera shy.

"keep still, baby. you know how much the fans love it when you look all cute and flustered."

minho is always helpful, offering you private dance lessons to hone your skills. he can be strict with the other members but he's noticed how embarrassed you get when he praises you. "you're doing so well, kitten," he whispers into your ear while he adjusts your position. you avert your eyes and try to focus on the way your body moves. he's smirking at you through the mirror, his hands skimming your ass more than necessary. when you're all warmed up and sweaty he bends you over and grinds his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "let's stretch some more."

"i know you can do it," changbin encourages when your voice cracks again. he turns off his laptop and enters the recording booth. "hey, don't cry," he wipes your tears away with his thumbs and you sniffle. you're fucking up your lines. badly.

"do you trust me?" he asks and you nod, letting him spread your legs. with a puzzled face you watch him crouch down and nuzzle the inside of your thigh. "you just need to relax, baby... you're straining too much when you get anxious. let me help you."

hyunjin is your roommate. he's a calm and quiet guy so you don't mind having him around. but on some nights you wake up to muffled gasps and groans coming from his side of the room. if you didn't know any better you'd have sworn some of his moans sound like your name. afraid to let him know you're awake you stay quiet and stare at the ceiling. your own hand slips into your pyjama pants to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, desperate to cum in time with him.

"ssh, it's me," jisung shushes you with a hand clasped over your mouth. you blink at him groggily, feeling two of his fingers slipping in and out of your wet hole with ease. he must've been playing with you for a while. "hyunjin's taking a shower and told me to wake you up." he snuggles against your back and you gasp into his palm when he replaces his fingers with his thick cock. "be a good doll for me now, pretty. we don't have much time before he comes back."

felix is the first to turn your relationship with them into something more than strictly collegial. "we're not colleagues, or friends, or family," he tugs you onto his lap and purrs into your ear, "we're something more." his fingers reach into your shorts and press against your clothed slit, making your head spin. "feel how soaked these panties are for me, doll? you know i'm telling the truth. what we've got is something special."

seungmin is your vocal training partner. when you stay late in the studio to practice he stays with you. his unconventional training methods are your little secret; he'd told you the others can't know a thing because they would get jealous, so you do as told. seungmin makes you feel special. you know he'd do everything for his favorite member.

"sluts like you need to have their throats trained," he groans and thrusts his cock deeper. "how else are you ever going to hit those notes?"

jeongin can never keep his hands off you when you're getting dressed for your stages. he gropes at your tits and tugs on your clothes. "these skirts keep getting shorter," he shakes his head and frowns. "everyone in the audience will be able to see your safety shorts. but you know you belong to us, don't you?" he grins and you squeal when his fingers slip between your thighs and locate your clit with ease. the barest hint of pressure against the fabric has you panting, proving his point. "no matter how many people cheer for you, you're our toy."

[stealingpotatoes]

some ppl very kindly loredumped abt the organa-solo kids for me so gonna put that + responses below the cut!! ↓

@erkhyan asked:

Don’t mind me, just dropping some Organa Solo kids lore, hopefully summarized enough. Anakin: both motivated and intimidated by the fact that his name was supposed to redeem that of his grandpa. Had his grandpa’s qualities (excellent pilot, great warrior, very strong in the Force) but none of his negative trait. Traumatized by being unable to save Chewie. Died a hero at age 16 during a successful mission to destroy a Jedi-killing weapon. Jacen: a big, empathetic goof as a teen, but was traumatized by the war that killed Anakin. The war and the trauma of Anakin’s death turned him into an introspective monk who went to learn weird non-Jedi Force powers. Returned, fathered a secret daughter, fell to the Dark Side because the Force told him that every timeline in which he’s not a Sith ends badly for his daughter. Became a Sith Lord by killing mara jade Skywalker. Eventually died when he found himself having to choose between saving his daughter from an Imperial plot, and dodging his sister’s lightsaber. Jaina: best pilot, best lightsaber user, best warrior, earned the nickname of Sword of the Jedi. Unfortunately, people mostly remember the fact that she was stuck in the world’s most annoying love triangle for two decades in-universe. And that time she processed the trauma of Anakin’s death by trying to seduce her Jedi Master. And that time she was in a bug hivemind that tried to solve her love triangle with a sexy threesome. And that time she went to train under Boba Fett so that she could kill Jacen in Luke’s stead. And also because the Jedi Order finally recognizing that she should have been a made a Master years ago, was almost the LAST thing that happened in the Legends continuity. Heavily implied that her husband would have eventually become Emperor (but a good one) if the continuity had been allowed to go on.

CHEWIE DIED??????????? also christ thats a lot to put on poor lil anakin jr-- ALSO AGAIN. POOR LEIA. HASNT SHE BEEN THRU ENOUGH (poor han too but LEIA)

WHY ARE THERE MORE STAR WARSES!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!! a secret daughter hi i love those but AGAIN. POOR LEIA. A SITH. FR HE KILLED MARA JADE WHAT???????????? oh my god.

i support jaina's turboslaggery she's been thru so much also WHAT potential emperor husband????????? wow ok legends gets wilder n wilder

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@novastargalaxydesigns asked:

I saw your Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin from Legends! And as someone who freaking adores that trio, I'd love to help point out a few things! In Legends of the Force, Jacen starts to affiliate himself with the Dark Side with his cousin, Ben, as his apprentice. Anakin was killed before the book, The Joiner King, and I didn't get the book that he was killed off in, but if I remember correctly, it was told in The Joiner King that he was killed during a mission as a fighter pilot. Jaina, in Legends of the Force I believe if I remember correctly, she gave up being a Jedi to be a pilot. I don't have all of the Legends of the Force books so I may be a bit spiffy on a few things. But we cannot forget Chewbacca's nephew, Lowbacca aka Lowie, and Jacen's childhood and teen hood crush, Tenel Ka whom is a princess and he accidentally cut her hand off with his new lightsaber during the book Young Jedi Knights Lightsabers. And Zekke who went to the dark side in the series Young Jedi Knights (I only got the first 3), but was redeemed. Anyone please correct my nerdiness if I'm wrong. But anygays, you has been educated by a fluffy bean. Had a lovely day!

JACEN CORRUPTS LUKE'S KID??????? HUH?????? CAN THE SKYWALKERS NOT CATCH LIKE. ONE SINGLE BREAK FROM THE DARKSIDE EVER???????? PLEASE

sorry all i can think w the tenel ka thing is:

-----------------------

@m0th-person asked:

To follow up on the solo kids ask, Jaina had a weird love life. Her love interest that she eventually married was Jagged Fel. He is the son of the former baron of the empire , Sootir Fel, and Syal Antilles-Fel (Wedge Antilles sister) . (a picture I found on Wookieepedia when he was imperial head of state, the white streak in the hair seems to be genetic) Jag grew up in Thrawn’s empire of the hand (and was grown up with the chiss expectations, that’s literally the second quote on his wookieepedia page)

he had 3 out of his 5 other siblings die. He eventually became the imperial head of state (he first lost to his rival political candidate for the role because abeloth messed with it) and flash forward to the legacy comics, his descendants have revamped the imperial remnant into the Fel Empire. It’s mostly believed that his descendants are also Jaina’s because both Roan fel and his daughter empress Marasiah Fel are both force sensitive. And Jacen Solo’s descendant , Ania Solo, says she’s a distant cousin of Marasiah. (Roan)

(Marasiah and her love interest) ( the imperial knights were grey Jedi that served the Fel empire) — and in legends Han actually had a family tree (ancestors, specifically, Jonash e solo (who was Corellian royalty and the admiral-prince during the old republic time period)) , and him and Jagged fel’s father used to rivals in the imperial academy. Darth Vader attended his class graduation and I only find this funny because Han became his son-in-law.

jaina was rlly living that booktok enemies to lovers life back in the 90s huh. go girl i love her and support her weird love life decisions so much

omg go han having fancy royalty ties <3 see hanleia IS politically advantageous

[dylan-grimmkell]

Felgijak Gorebelly, my new Warlords of Draenor Fel-corrupted Orc Warlock. Art by Korg Ironclaw on Twitter. I absolutely love how his design came out, and I really can't thank Korg enough for bringing him to life in all his Fel-corrupted glory!

A few close-up shots of his Fel-corruption details, and yes, one of his arms is bigger than the other, which was a design choice given how unstable Fel-corruption can be.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

Phantom of the Night

Phantom! Eddie x Fem! Reader Smut Blurb

AN: Hello! I am a huge POTO fan, and obsessed with men in masks. I wanted to write this for fun and for spooky season. It's a length and smut filled blurb. I'm sorry about the college of pictures not being as inclusive as I'd like (it's hard asf to find POTO aesthetic in varying body types :/ ) but promise that the description is vague and meant for anyone AFAB or feminine leaning :) (psst: this ones for my ghouls @eddies-house @xxhellfiregirlxx @ghost-proofbaby who I adore and feed my delusions lol)

Warnings: MDNI! mature themes, dubcon, vouyerism, somnophilia, mentions of exhibitionism, corruption kink, bondage, biting, oral, penetration, virginity, loss of innocence, masks, dom! Eddie, posessive, body worship, stalking and obsession, kidnapping, etc.

As a child, you had been brought up in the exquisite opera house that your town boasted of, your father taking you often to see the shows and ballets performed there. He was a violinist, a talented one at that, and had many close friends who performed at the opera. Growing up, it was just the two of you. Your mother had grown deathly ill when you were five. She passed there soon after, leaving you and your father alone. In womanhood now, you sensed that he brought you to the opera so often rather than get you a nanny to distract you with elaborate performances in order to hide your fearful loneliness that a young girl got with losing her mother. 

But now you were a woman, a member of the opera yourself in the corps de ballet, your years of training under Karen, your father’s old friend, finally coming into play. You took the job soon after your father's death when you turned 20, desperate to keep the estate he left you and not leave the home and comfort of the opera house. Besides, you loved ballet and the elegance it left you feeling, despite the pain. But it was nothing compared to your true love. Singing. Music. 

Your father had you take singing lessons as a young girl, but those lessons were now lost in years of memories. You tried to practice alone but felt off-pitch. It was disheartening. You mostly had done so as a hobby rather than a real-life pursuit of the stage, not believing yourself to be skilled enough. You kept it hidden from the rest of the troupe, embarrassed over what they would say about a grown woman attempting to learn to sing and having daydreams of the stage. 

Which is what led you to this point. You had found a few places to practice in the opera house, the building so old that there were many hidden passageways and nooks and crannies. You often tried to use these locations in order to practice. Your betrothed, Steven, constantly scolded you and claimed one day you would get lost and no one would be able to find you in the maze that was the opera house. (Steven meant well, but could sometimes be more like a mother hen.) Still, you found yourself overwhelmed by curiosity and in need to explore more and more of the building. 

You looked around, curious to see if anyone was nearby. You had found this entrance behind a mirror in a makeup room, the dark and almost damp hallway confusing you. You walked on further, the long skirts of your white gown brushing the cold stone floor, probably dirtying the edges. You held the candle you used as a light in a shaky hand, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill. This place reminded you of dreams you so often had involving a dark dim cave, some mysterious yet enchanting man…no, creature…whisking you away with his lulling voice and seductive tones. You felt your heart race and your thighs squeeze together at the thought. 

You were ashamed of these dark desires. You were always told that women weren’t meant to feel lust. Ballerinas were not meant to daydream about dark and haunting shadowy figures whisking them away into the night against their will. That was why you were so passive in your arranged engagement with Steven. What did it matter that you felt not a bit of swirling desire for the man if you were not meant to? He had good money and was kind and treated you well, despite your less-than-normal childhood. Maybe after the wedding, you could squash all these horrid and sinful feelings in your belly. 

While lost in thoughts, you heard a gust of wind brush by you, the sudden draft blowing out your candle. You gasped, your heart racing as you caught the sudden flash of movement by you, fear squeezing up your throat. The figure moved in a flash, clearly tall and lean. 

“Hello? Who goes there?” You called out, willing yourself to swallow down the frightful feelings in your belly. 

Nothing could be heard but the faint drip of aging pipes and the rustle of the wind in the ancient hallways. You sighed, turning back to where you came from. Perhaps Nancy was correct and you could stand to stop reading things filling your head with the idea of monsters lurking in the night. 

You laid on the gaudy chaise lounge, restless and unable to sleep. Karen, in an attempt to be motherly with you, was earlier discussing ‘wifely duties’ with you, well aware that your education on the matter was crude at best from the words you heard other girls in the corps giggle over. Or occasionally, the male singers would boast of their escapades. She filled you with this idea that women were to lay there to be for their husbands and bear children. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more. For the past few months, you had been…exploring your own desires. You found you couldn’t sleep without it. And yet…

Tonight you were staying at the opera in an attempt to curb the dark desires in your belly. You knew nothing of a man’s touch but did not want to sully Steven with your lustful and seductive thoughts. You hoped staying in a room not your own would discourage your brain from such thoughts.

You agreed with Karen to stay in the private dressing room, despite the fluttering gasps of your peers in the corps. There were rumors of a dark figure that haunted the opera house, always causing mischief, running around and stealing props, leaving notes on the music sheets, and even occasionally harassing the singers by wrecking their rooms. You weren’t one for superstition, but felt also that perhaps the girls had a point. You had felt a presence near you often, something lingering but still there. 

Just as you did lying there. You were only in your nightgown, the fabric thin and not modest at all. You could feel a presence despite the room being empty. You stared at the ceiling, your heart racing and an even more sinful thought entering your head. 

What if you touched yourself with that presence watching? 

You felt the heat creep from your neck to the tips of your ears, clearly embarrassed despite the lack of company. The thought excited you, the heat growing between your legs and your nipples pebbling at the thought. You sighed, cursing yourself but knowing you could not rest without the feeling of release. 

You shakily grabbed at your skirt, pulling it up while turning to look at your reflection in the mirror. The mirror faced the chaise lounge. You felt a gasp escape your mouth as you looked at yourself. You looked…delectable. Absolutely depraved. Your eyes were dark with lust and your nightgown revealed most of your bare legs, part of it tugged down to reveal cleavage as your hardened nipples poked through the delicate white fabric. 

You began to rub at the wetness between your legs, mewling pathetically at the friction and staring at yourself losing control. You felt your mind go foggy, your wetness growing as your moans became more desperate. You felt your eyes flutter, feeling as if the presence was staring at you. And whether it was the small sip you had of wine earlier you had with Karen or the lust clouding your thoughts, you swore you could see a shadow within the mirror, a pair of warm and sultry brown eyes slightly visible. The sight of the shadow caused you to reveal more of yourself, feeling the need to put on a winning show. You threw your head back, pulling the nightgown down more to free your breasts to the chilly air as you rubbed at your clit more ferociously, your moans and whimpers growing in desperation. You felt the tension in the room grow as the feeling grew before the tension snapped, leaving you shattering to pieces.  

You panted as you came down from your high, letting yourself catch a breath and trying to fix your appearance. You turned towards the mirror slowly, your body heavy and worn. You saw only yourself. No warm or sultry eyes. No shadowy figure. Just you. You let your eyelids flutter as you head off to sleep, sure to dream of the dark presence once again. And just before you do…you swear you see the shadow flash across the mirror. But maybe it was just your tiredness affecting your sight. 

The second time you experienced the presence was another night sleeping at the opera house in order to assist Nancy with her duties in the morning, since her mother, Karen, had left her in charge of the duties this time around, scolding her about needing to be responsible. You were asleep, dreaming and tossing while imagining that dark presence looming over you, your lust creeping in. In the dream, the dark shadow was looming over you, kissing up and down you, as silent as possible. You watched as the shape kissed its way down, growling hungrily at your entrance. You couldn’t see much but felt, almost as if it were real, lapping at your sensitive clit. You woke dazed, lust pooling between your thighs as you tried to sit up, sure you were feeling something licking and sucking on the swollen bud between your thighs. A gloved hand clamped down on your eyes and prevented you from seeing who the culprit was, your heart racing. You smelled the familiar mix of cinnamon and orange peel, along with sharp notes of rum and ginger, a tonic you knew as familiar among the singers in the opera to keep their vocals sharp. You felt your thighs shake, and moans leaving your mouth despite your brain's conflicting thoughts. 

This is wrong. I don’t know this person. But…the pleasure…they are so skilled with their mouth…I’m so close.

You writhed, whimpering and attempting to escape the mouth to discover who was there, only to feel the other hand hold you tightly in place, a deep and fearful voice growling lowly. 

“Stop your infernal movement, little angel. I would like to worship this beautiful cunt to the best of my ability,” The masculine voice ground out in agitation, the words sending chills up your spine and desire to build to the breaking point. Worshiping you? Men in high society didn’t worship working women like you. You were lucky to even find a betrothal while most dancers were considered ‘low and loose’ women who needed to work in order to gain money. This man was odd and…so very skilled at making you unravel. 

You were drunk on the eroticism of it all. A stranger licking at you like a man starved of a month’s worth of meals, the inability to see his appearance, his demanding tone and forceful hand. You saw stars and felt your pleasure overcome you, your body shaking at your release that he seemed to slurp up, the noises so vulgar they would make a lady of the night blush. You lay there, eyes closed, catching your breath slowly. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you sat up, hoping to get to know the man behind your most recent confession in church, only to be met with silence, not a soul in the room. You felt your heart sink as you tried to fall back asleep, your mind swimming with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the warm, strong hands. It seemed the ghost of the opera might have been real after all. 

Nancy and the other girls in the corps began to notice your distracted gaze, your prolonged nights at the opera, and your skittishness, trying to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure when people claimed he zipped past. You felt a strange obsession, a need to follow the dark shadow and discover who was consuming your dreams. 

You heard him at night occasionally, humming or singing. Or at least you thought it was him. It was a low and chilling sound. Your body thrummed with excitement anytime you thought you saw a flash of him in the rafters or heard a stair creak. You began to notice little gifts waiting for you in the dressing room, in your favorite nooks and crannies in the opera. Red roses and small notes in the messy script, usually referring to you as Little Angel. Nancy was worried about you, trying to escort you home often and getting Steven to dote on you more.

But you were done. Corrupted. Filthy. And you wanted nothing more than to be in the Phantom’s embrace once more. You wanted him to explore you. Ruin you. Your mind was riddled with him day and night. 

You kept it hidden from everyone, but you often explored the ancient passageways now with the intention of finding him. Occasionally you left gifts. Your most used lipstick, a snippet of a poem, a book you had just read. You would come back to the spots to find the items gone, occasionally a rose left in their place. You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl. Your ghost…your Phantom… seemed to acknowledge you. 

If only you could catch him…

It was a few months after weeks of giddy gift exchanges and running after shadows. The notes and roses stopped. The flashes of a dark figure ended. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe you were just a fool who imagined or dreamed of the interactions. 

On a dark night, you were aimlessly wandering the halls, singing to yourself a song you remembered your father singing. You had abandoned all hope of your dear ghost coming to capture you. Free you from a loveless marriage. You were set to marry Steven next week. Abandon the opera. Become a proper lady in society. At least Steven would not be disappointed when you laid there and bled for him, giving him a child 9 months later. You sighed to yourself, twisting your engagement ring, displeased with the thing. You wandered the underground tunnels, the candlelight dim in the dark halls. You felt your heart pick up as you heard a soft yet low voice, singing aloud. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, and your heart was racing. 

“Phantom?,” You called out sheepishly. 

The singing stopped. A deep voice coming from a direction you couldn’t discern. 

“Little Angel. What is a lamb like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” called the voice, rough and cold. Was he upset with you? You were unsure. 

You felt a tug at your heart, looking around and trying to find him. “Please, Phantom. I have only one week more at the opera. I cannot bear to not feel your touch another second,” you whimpered out. 

“Ah, so you can crawl back to that insolent boy who does not deserve your glory? My heart cannot bear the rejection, Little Angel. Leave this monster be,” He growled out, still within the shadows. 

Your heart leaped in your throat as tears entered your eyes, feeling your knees wobble as you crumbled to the ground. “Please, Phantom. I cannot bear to be without you. I do not want Steven. Forgive me, please…,” You sobbed softly, your emotions in a tangled mess. 

You heard a sigh and felt yourself get grabbed from behind swiftly, a soft yelp about to leave your throat. That familiar gloved hand snuck over your eyes. 

“Alright, Little Angel. On one condition…You mustn’t, under any circumstances, remove my mask,” He warned, his tone stern. 

You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to pick you up, dropping your lit candle onto the damp floor. The light went out, but as he picked you up in his arms, you caught a brief glance of him. He was a tall and lean figure, his hair a long and curly mess, his face halfway covered by a mask. You could see his plush pink lips and long lashes, warm and enticing brown eyes. 

He was beautiful.

You were tempted to remove the mask, curious as to why such an enticing man would haunt the opera. You refrained, however, out of respect. He tied a loose piece of fabric around your eyes, shielding your vision. 

You were enthralled and scared. 

You were laid down gently on a plush cushion and fabric, the cover softly removed from your eyes. You slowly opened your eyes in a dim and candlelit room, surrounded by aging theatrical props and the most plush velvet fabrics. You were on what appeared to be a bed, the dark figure standing before you. He wore a dark and long cloak, the hood down. His shirt underneath was a silky black shirt with a wide opening, displaying his chest. He wore dark pants and what seemed to be dress shoes. The items were all of high quality but it seemed they were at least a decade old. Upon looking up at his face, you saw he wore a white mask on half of it, his lips and half of his nose visible. His features were mostly soft, though he appeared worn from the years of seclusion and hiding. 

You reached out to touch his cheek, only to have him grip your wrists. His hands were shaking. His dark eyes were swirling with desire and sorrow. Was he shaken because he needed you so fervently? 

“You cannot touch me. I cannot bear it. If you were to touch me only to marry that…that damned fool later. My heart could not take it,” He growled out, his face twisted in sorrow and pain. 

You felt a tug at your heart, your hands aching to touch him but deciding to respect his wishes. 

“Alright.” 

He got up, running over to a pile of old props from past shows, grabbing at one, and walking over to you, grabbing at your wrists before tying them quickly to the frame of the bed. Your heart began to race as your body heated up, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you bit softly at your lips. Phantom groaned softly, looming over you, his warm brown eyes stirring desire in your belly. 

“Do not make such faces, Little Angel. You are so delicate, and I fear I will become without reason,” He groaned out, his eyes intense in their desire, his expression clear that it was hurtful to hold back. 

You could feel your back arch, his stiffening member brushing against you, causing you to whimper. “Please Phantom…Abandon reason…ravage me,” You mewled, writhing under the dark figure. 

His eyes became dark, his snarl deepening as he leaned in, his expression both terrifying and enthralling. “Be careful what you wish for, Little Angel. I am not too short of becoming a monster, devouring you.” 

You whimpered, desire pooling as your eyelashes fluttered, and your body leaned towards him. Two could play at that game. “Please…I’m frightened. R-release me, monster,” You whined, writhing under the Phantom’s dark gaze. A smirk fell upon his lips, dimples evident as the smirk broke into a villainous grin. 

“Oh, you should not have wandered into my lair, Little Angel. Now I must have you,” He growled lowly, taking his gloved hands and ripping open your corset before tearing at the chemise, the fabric pooling in shreds around you, your chest heaving in fear and excitement. 

Your body was bared save for the underpants that exposed your ever-wet entrance, your legs shutting in embarrassment. The Phantom growled, kissing at your lips with hunger and desperation, moans lost on his lips. He kissed you until you gasped for air before biting, nipping, and kissing his way down, focusing on your breasts. You pinched and sucked upon your nipples, heightening your pleasure and making you writhe more under him, whimpers echoing in the cold and dim room. He bit and marked you, his movements like that of a wild beast. 

“Ph-Phantom…Master… Devour me as you have before,” You whined out, meeting his wild brown eyes behind the mask as he looked up, snarling. 

“Beg. Beg for it,” He snarled, hands continuing their tortuous teasing on your breasts. 

“P-please… Master… Dev-devour me…I beg of y-you! I beg of you. I beg of you. I beg of you…,” You babbled, brain foggy with lust and his touch. 

He grinned devilishly, his white smile making your heart race. “As you wish, Little Angel.” 

He slowly made his way down, sure to kiss and mutter praises over you the entire time, letting you know how divine you were, leaving marks with sharp bites here and there. Finally, he reached your entrance, diving in as if it were his last supper. He flicked his tongue across your clit before sucking on it, alternating that and nibbling at your inner thighs, your body writhing like a woman possessed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 

He truly was wicked, worshiping you beyond your wildest dreams, his words meeting your ears and deepening the carnality within you. You were gone. Lost to this bodily sin. 

“So divine. I do not deserve this beautiful cunt, these heavenly breasts, your godless moans… If this is the price I pay to become Lucifer’s lackey, I will happily pay the toll,” He babbled, fingers curling up into your entrance, his mouth still latching onto your clit. 

You felt your back arch and felt a ripple through your body. You shattered around his finger, your orgasm taking over your mind. You whimpered as he continued to touch you past your high, your nerves so sensitive you felt tears come to your eyes. He stopped short, growling lowly. 

“I’m going to condemn you, Little Angel. Fill you full of my cum. Mark you as mine and mine alone. You are my pet. My divine creature,” He snarled, his face twisted as you felt a shock of fear and lust overtake you. He could have you. You were his. 

“P-please Phantom…Pl-please,” You whimpered, lip trembling in longing as your body shook with terror. 

You suddenly felt a slow thrust into your entrance, the fullness causing a sharp pain, your head thrown back in a silent cry, eyes watering. The thrusting continued at a slow pace, the Phantom’s arms shaking as he appeared to hold back. You looked up at him, the desire growing sharper in you, your dull pain now adding to the pleasure, your legs slightly writhing. You fought against the ropes, whimpering. Phantom seemed to catch on as his brown eyes met yours, something in him snapping. He began snapping his hips at a ferocious pace, making you cry out as he continued to growl but also began to whimper and moan. 

“Such a perfect cunt. A vision. They don’t deserve you. So flawless…Cannot wait to fill your belly with my seed…Corrupt and condemn such a goddess…Ravaged by a monster…What would Steven think…?”

You moaned at the suggestion, thinking of how scandalous the situation would be. Your high was coming along a lot faster as the Phantom growled in your ear, hand at your throat while squeezing the sides and cutting off air. You felt your mind panic suddenly as you writhed but moaned louder, the lightheadedness causing immense pleasure. You were so close. 

“Oh, does my Little Angel enjoy that? Would you like to put on a show for the opera? Singing that beautiful song of pleasure?” He moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppier. 

You felt yourself climb higher and higher towards release, reaching it finally when Phantom growled in your ear making you grow with a child, making everyone know you were his. You saw stars behind your eyes, your heart bursting from your chest as you panted. The Phantom chased his own high, filling you up shortly after, making you moan softly. 

You attempted to catch your breath as the Phantom went to grab you a washcloth, wiping away at the spilling fluid. He released your wrists allowing you to rub at them. You flushed, your body limp and warm, worn out by the activity. You lay beside Phantom who held you to his chest, singing softly as you drifted off. 

You woke up once in the middle of the night, Phantom asleep. You stared at his face, only noticing how much more peaceful he looked in his sleep. You bit your lip, wondering why a man would wear a mask, even during sexual activities. Curiosity always got the better of you. You reached out softly, peeling away the mask, being careful to make sure he didn’t stir. You gasped softly at the reveal. The man's half of his face seemed to have large scars as if someone had taken a chunk of flesh in a bite, perhaps an animal. His cheeks were riddled with them, and half of the tip of his nose also with a chunk missing. 

You frowned, cocking your head. Sure he wasn’t gorgeous on that side but why was he here. He just seemed a little scarred. You softly touched the scars, the Phantom twitching at the touches in his sleep. You stop for a moment but again, only to have the mysterious man's eyes flutter open and horror and realization cross his face and he shoots up and snarls at you. 

“You broke the one rule?” He growled, his eyes dark and anger-filled. 

“I didn’t mean-” 

You felt a quick hand tie you up again, the ropes had been on his side of the bed, You tugged against them, feeling panic come up your throat as he tilted your head up, eyes gleaming with villainy. 

“From now on Angel, you belong to the Phantom of the Hawkins Opera. Edward Munson. But you may call me Master,” He growled out, his eyes swimming with possession, desire, and fury, your mouth opening to let out protests and failing to make a sound. There was no escape. No way to save yourself. You were his. 

Be careful what you wish for. 

THE END?

[warlordfelwinter]

cool things for fiver to overhear that won't make him more mentally ill

[transfemininomenon]

bro you did NOT just ditch boy's night to go spill your blood over a holy altar corrupting it and allowing it to become a conduit for summoning your fel lord

[laurenwalshart]

So I love Druids in WoW. I love their lore, their diversity & complexity, but the magic they use and how they use it is hard to untangle for RP. A new quest in Hallowfall may explain how Dreamwalking works!

Some spoilers ahead if you haven’t done “The Last Mage” in Hallowfall.

–

In “The Last Mage” we learn that teleportation can use memory as an anchor point. It can use something as simple as a plant's memory of where it was grown. This means that plants hold memory. We’ve recently been introduced to memory magic with the Kyrian and the Primus in the Shadowlands who use Anima as a source of their magic. Since non-sentient life can hold memory it may be that memory is linked to Anima and thereby Spirit and Decay, meaning you may be able to access memory via these raw elemental pathways. 

This then could explain how Druids in WoW are able to Dreamwalk and physically teleport to the Dreamway without arcane based teleportation. Since most of the trees in the Dreamway are connected to G’hanir in some way (via the acorn used to plant Nordrassil) it means you are literally traveling a spirit/memory network of G’hanir, the Mother Tree. That in turn poses an interesting question about the origin of G’hanir & how Amirdrassil connects to the Dreamway. Since we know Elune is connected to the creation of Amirdrassil’s seed and that She offers seeds of trees in The Legend of Elun’ahir as a part of her portfolio and habits it may be an even larger network of seeds and trees connected to Elune and spans the cosmos (See Thiernax). Further proof that it may be Elune’s memories is the fact that your character casts a moon spell effect and you are bathed in moonlight as you cast Dreamwalking. As an added note we’ve also seen this type of non-arcane teleportation magic in Ardenweald with Marasmius’s fungal network which again likely uses anima, spirit, and/or decay.

Since all life, sentient and non-sentient, has memory and spirit it provides some more clarity on other things like how Malfurion is able to speak to trees (essentially he is witnessing their memories) and more context regarding the Wild God, Aessina. This connection of spirit with all things may explain why she is “the center of the web of life.” She is essentially a Wild God of Spirit connecting all living things. It is no shock then that she is found deep in the oldest and wildest of forests where the concentration of Spirit from old trees is strongest for her and wisps to manifest. It too could explain why those that are deeply devoted to a particular forest and the spirit of that forest become wisps to serve in death because their spirit is so closely tied to that one place.

This may also expand our understanding of the Ancients of Lore, War, and Arcane as well. We already know that Ancients have vast knowledge and wisdom and pass this knowledge on to Druids, but this access to Spirit and the memory of the plant life may be the source of their knowledge making them vital tutors in this interconnected web of life.

It may be that the environment that an Ancient is from or tends to informs what they will become - an Ancient in a peaceful place with many Druids may become an Ancient of Lore, an Ancient from a land that has seen continued conflict may become an Ancient of War, land that has been heavily influenced by the Arcane may become an Ancient of Arcane. We also see that the biome they are from affects them as well. We see this with the coral like Ancients in Nazjatar and the Ancients on Dreanor that reflect their biomes in how they are formed.

This web of life/spirit in nature may also be why Blight and Fel corruption are so hard to cleanse and why it affects the elements as well. Both Blight and Fel may use the spirit of the land and nature to continuously fuel itself making it a magical runaway fire that is almost impossible to control. Fel in particular seems to use Spirit like kindling. Nearly every zone you go to that has been touched by the fel is either in a state of decay or completely barren.

The corruption of Spirit poses an interesting concept as well. If Spirit is the conduit of memory then perhaps Decay acting as Spirit’s elemental counterpart is the conduit of madness and why it pairs so well with the Void. This lines up with things like the Emerald Nightmare and Shadow Flame, both have connections to the Void and both drive those corrupted by it to madness. While the Void and its infinite possibilities and whispers may be the source of madness, the element of Decay may be the channel by which it is able to make contact.

With a network of memory like this there is no need for recorded history. Just like Druids of our own history, knowledge is passed down from Teacher to Student, Shan’do to Thero'shan and on Azeroth the forest itself may be your teacher if you are able to listen.

-

For Roleplay of a Druid, all of this may offer your character a new reason to hold a grove, a certain forest, and the land so sacred because they hold ancient memories that can be passed down. Also maybe this might help players see the enigmatic network of knowledge your Druid might have access to. 

Also in my personal opinion this all means that D&D spells like “Speak with Plants” and “Transport via Plants” are viable spells for Druids in WoW rp with all the concepts stated above as long as your character has a memory of that tree/plant and your dm’s permission of course!

–

Hope you enjoyed my deep dive into this concept and I would love to hear your thoughts! I have a ton of more theories about the cycle of life from the Druidic perspective, World Trees, the Nightmare, Thros, and more. One day I'll get around to posting them.

[ooc-miqojak]

We know Lily keeps multiple estates, so who's her favorite person under her employ and why? :3

Oh man, that's a good one. I was worried there for a sec that it'd take me forever to answer, but then I recalled a little head-canon-daydreaming from a while back. So, the Quel'thalas estate is... more like the family estate (she has one spinster aunt around, still). Out in the Plaguelands, it's all hers - and among the employees there, are no small number of druids and shaman! She's seen with her own eyes that this land can be healed... and she can't heal people anymore, but she can help contribute to undoing what Arthas wrought. And... seeing a land just as corrupted as her come back to life is also cathartic as fuck. I imagine that there's one of the Broken Draenei among the shaman that she's had more than one heartfelt talk with... because who else knows what it's like to be like her? Who else knows what years of fel-torture does to a person? - especially at the hands of demons? Safe spaces/people are hard to find, not many can relate, and she'd likewise hate burdening anyone with that kind of knowledge anyways.