duraxxor

[duraxxor]

What is the sorceress' biggest pet peeve?

She recalled a time when he rescued a helpless infant from what would be an assured death.  Left to the elements, or worse, hungry predators lurking in the underbrush, the beast known as ‘Duraxxor’ showed a different side of himself that day.  He who had shed the shackles of expectation and left his life behind, was powerless to deny the paternal instinct his past had ingrained within him.  Like an infection left to fester, it flared red and grew inflamed… itching at his thoughts until he scooped the babe into his arms.  Guilt rubbed his heart raw to the point of bleeding.

“Get rid of it… or I will.”

Her words wounded him— a dagger driven into a chest long silenced by undeath and buried to the hilt— heedless of his feelings.  What could easily be perceived as a lack of consideration was in fact, veiled grace.  The opportunity to see the child to safety was a rare courtesy bestowed upon him— and him alone— out of respect for a man who was once a doting father.

The Sorceress loathed children.  Not because she was repulsed by innocence, but because they were dependent— needy.  This distaste extended beyond children and toward anyone or anything that required ‘babysitting.’  She was far too busy to be overseeing the directives of her associates.  Those who had proven their merit were entirely self-managing, and they carried out her expectations to the fullest extent using subtlety and mastery born of confidence in one’s skills.

Those who burdened society with their incessant need for attention served a greater purpose as reagents on dusty shelves.  After all, ‘blood of the innocent’ was a difficult thing to procure, and Malakortana cringed inwardly as she allowed a fresh source to slip between her claws... for his sake.

Perhaps one day he might understand the ‘gift’ she had given him… and maybe he never would.

@duraxxor for mention <3

[duraxxor]

Happy birthday from one shadow to another ♡

[[ Thank you @eluviannaa sorry for the delayed response! Life makes this vampire have the average sleep schedule! It means the world to hear from another artist as well. Don't think I didn't see your reply <3. ]]

[duraxxor]

Happy Birthday to the ‘Battiest’ guy I know. The king of dad jokes and just an overall awesome dude. <3

[[ Thank you, my friend! I appreciate the ooc shoutout too! I'll keep making dad jokes as long as I draw breath. I'm always up to bat when it comes to such things. And I will always try to keep being me. That's not changing. From the mun to the shadows, I send you my supportive hugs and appreciation! <3 ]]

[duraxxor]

You've just got a package! You've just got a package! You've just got a package, wonder who it's from!?

It's a glitter bomb from Gin. Happy birthday!

" I have a present. " He reached from the shadows and pilfered this box. Gently, he undid the bow and... POP! Glitter cascaded all over the place, raining a barrage of various coloration. A fang peered out of his surprise. But upon closer inspection on his fingers, he saw that all of the glitter was bat shaped. "... Ha... Hahaha... AHAHAHAHAHAAAAA! " His lips twisted into a lopsided grin now. " You know what, I'll take it. At least it's a bat-themed glitter. Thank youuuuuu. "

[[ Thanks for the prankster @major-gilneass ]]

[duraxxor]

"Happy birthday, dad!" Simmy exclaimed. "I have an important question!! A very important question." She blinked a few times, before speaking again. "What's the best present you've ever gotten? It doesn't have to be a physical thing, either..." She smiled innocently, and waited for an answer.

" Thank you, Simantha! " He noticed how she was already jumping with joy to call upon him and even ask a question about the best present he ever gotten. Oh boy, that was a tough one. Having regained his memories, there were many times that he was just thankful to have been with his wife and children. And then, something deep hit the pit of the miasma that was his soul.

" My birth. It's the most precious thing anyone can have. While I may have endured many hardships over the years, I have survived. And there are those that on the journey that if I had not been birthed, not only would I never have experienced it. But my impact would have not changed for those that needed it. My wife's path would have been different; my children wouldn't exist. Hells, even you would not be the same without the prying of my own flesh and blood to add to your creation. It's both tragic and wild to think if I didn't exist, where my circle be? "

[[ Thanks for the ask @astralfox0893, @arrydhalia for brief mentions ]]

[duraxxor]

"I hear it's someone's Name Day. What would want most for it, or do you not believe in wishes?"

" It's simple really. I just want everyone and everything to be fine. And while I may not always be on the stable path and teetering into the chaos, it doesn't mean I don't like to have a good time and wish it for the rest. Especially those I claim to be close to. " He shot a finger gun out to the world around him. " You know who you are! Many thanks, shadow! "

[duraxxor]

"Happy birthday Bats! Feelin' your age in the world yet?"

" Oh yes, yes, yeeeeesssss. I'm feeling it alright, not a day over it either. I have to say, the hardest part about being undead is while you may not always feel it, you will most certainly know when something on you is falling apart. Thank the shadows that I have means to keep certain things intact. " There was a fond smile on his features before he bowed to them. " Thank you, nonetheless! "

[duraxxor]

1͓̽4͓̽ ͓̽Y͓̽e͓̽a͓̽r͓̽s͓̽ ͓̽o͓̽f͓̽ ͓̽D͓̽u͓̽r͓̽a͓̽x͓̽x͓̽o͓̽r͓̽

So, I decided to try my hand and bringing an old collage concept off the dusty old shelves of Duraxxor's history books. The left images if you have been following me for a while are of Duraxxor's first years in Rp themselves. But, sometimes bringing old concepts into new light (or shadows in his case) can bring about the best of results. The right image is a dedicated to the long journey he had undergone since he was freed from the Scourge in seeking to find his lost memories and learn what it means to live as a monster and amongst monsters, whether they are living, undead, or more than meets the eyes. Thank you all for continuing to follow me and supporting Dura through the ages! And give the vampiric lord a shout out on his birthday! Maybe even hit him with a question? Who knows, you may just get an answer!

[duraxxor]

ovo

[duraxxor]

It's been a bit since I sent something proper, so let me try to throw something tough that you can write to or answer! The end arrives for our dear Sanguine Sorceress, what is it that brings the axe down and how does she go? Is it on her own terms, was she caught and caged? How does 'the end' look and play out in your mind for the current state of affairs?

Fingers buried deep in wetness, soaked to the second knuckle, he reaches for a sound— anything he can pry from her lips.  He wants more than anything to hear her cries… her inevitable screams.

He has waited a long time for this.  Has fantasized about this very moment, and will stop at nothing until he has gotten what he came for.  “Scream,” he whispers hotly against her cheek, his breath washing over ashen skin. 

It is not a request.

Sable lips part, daring to brush against the corner of his mouth but no sound escapes them.  Instead, she torments him with a defiant smirk.

No... I think not.

The unspoken taunt causes him to redouble his effort, and he buries his fingers deeper still, curling and flexing them in hopes of coaxing a sound from her.  “You will scream for me,” he demands.

Silence reigns.

His fingers make a wet ‘schlick’ sound as he withdraws his hand.  There are other ways to get her to scream, and he resorts to unclasping something at his belt.

Then… he thrusts, over and over.  Hard enough to crack ribs, grunting with exertion all the while.  Baring down on her with his full body weight and jarring her lithe frame with each determined plunge.

Still, she denies him.

Rivulets of sweat form at his brow, and he questions how much longer he can continue at this pace.  His breath grows uneven, coming in ragged gasps as his heart thunders in his chest.  Then— unexpectedly, and far too soon— it hits him.  “Oh… fuck!”

It’s all over.

His body slumps, heavy with exhaustion as his gaze is transfixed on hers— glassy and devoid of life.  The knife falls from his limp hand in a clatter of steel before his body hits ground… followed by his severed head.

Eyes as black as a moonless midnight sky stare at the gaping hole in her chest, now oozing blood at an alarming rate.  The wound is vexatious, but far from fatal.  The Witch Hunter managed to make quite a mess before she grew tired of him.  Had he the actual knowledge and means to end her, he would have done it as swiftly and efficiently as possible instead of getting close enough for her to decapitate him.

Whoever sent this fucking moron had better get it right next time, or she will go out of her way to find them and finish it… one way or another.

@dinthoqaf

[duraxxor]

@arrydhalia

by Alessandro Amoruso

[duraxxor]

The shadows seemed to twist and turn for a few moments when this demonic entity decided to play with caution. Rightfully so for more reasons than one. Slowly a figure took shape against the darkness from the walls that were veiled by shadow themselves. And from within its billowing cloud of smog, a hand slipped out that pulled an entire body out from within.

Bats chittered and swarmed above the transitioning creature before her. Though his appearance was elven, her senses likely disclosed that he was far more than that. An energized core billowing with chaos in itself is an epicenter that was unseen to the naked eye. White hair caressed the back of his neck of Northrend snow. And as the natural truth gave truth to the suited attire, there was a faint, blue hue with a crimson ring around his eyes. The scarred nasal cavity, and now... A devilish smile crept along his cheeks.

" Fine then, let's play pretend. You are a dragon and I am a knight of the Silver Hand. " He softly chortled before giving a courteous bow as if he had just performed a comical stand-off. "... Glamour can only veil so much. You need naught worry yourself if your intent is... of a social trade rather than physics. "

@nia-the-shadowstepper

" My little ears and wings tell me that a certain Sayaadi is... looking for me? "

The head crowned by a pair of horns turned, but the face that accompanied it regarded the unintroduced voice with discretion. "Am I?" she posed the question dubiously, voice tight with its spill, as if she was offended. The femme was blessed with a natural allure in form and a fel-eyed gaze, but they were also traits shared by many Illidari, and even some Draenei. "And who are you? Someone that sees a pair of horns and thinks "demon"? Very assumptive, I say. On many counts."

[duraxxor]

Look, the father couldn't let his son have the spotlight too long. So I took it upon myself to draw him too and had a lot of fun with the suit and all the details. But this is Fel'thamar Za'roth... in a suit!

[duraxxor]

My warlock's half-demon son, Dominic. It's a complicated story for sure. And it's not what you would expect.

[duraxxor]

[duraxxor]

i can be yuor devil

or your angle

[duraxxor]

I know, I know. It's been a hot minute! I have been pretty busy with a few things in real life and making time for other projects. And here's one of them! @nyyght ' s Arrydhalia Bloodsinger-Daevara AKA Duraxxor's wife <3. I had a load of fun trying to make this look good!

@arrydhalia - the character's blog for tags too!