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"Heh... funny."

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........ what if..... Menmire .... was once Marbas?

edit:

it works but at what cost to the lore?

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what tragic horror character trope are you?

that which cannot be known

oh god. how did it come to this? to some extent, you've gone so far past your own idea of "human" that it must be kind of fun, right? maybe. i'm not sure. as an artefact of cosmic horror, you're wild and wacky and colourful and people are probably drawn to that, but you will never let them know you. the mystery intrigues for a while, but it'll wear everyone down. it'll wear you down, too. who are you? do you remember? are you so far gone that you can't go back? and maybe that's the most tragic thing of all- becoming so distorted in your identity, and for so long, that no matter how hard you want to return you can't ever seem to figure it out. but you've learned a vast amount up in the stars, and people will work hard to get to know you. it doesn't matter who you used to be. sometimes, you should just start from scratch: give yourself a name, a birthday. let someone celebrate these things with you.

tagged by : no one , found and stolen for personal entertainment

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mini-canon:

Menmire was not the first name or only name he has been known by. Although Menmire is the only name he may answer to in the present day.

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@helllords sent : ∗ 19﹕ sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap . (from Bee <3)

“My lord – please –  why?– You shouldn’t—” A sharp surprise cried out in Menmire’s voice. His body tensed. His head recoiled. A calamity of half formed expressions gasped, as the smaller form of Beelzebub climbed over him and sat herself against awkward limbs. For a moment the demon was stuck dumbfounded, not sure how to react or if he even should. Beelzebub. — A mix of complicated emotions washed over him; fear, embarrassment, worry, affection, curiosity, and perhaps a little bit of pride (maybe he should have felt more for finding a lord’s attention). He exhaled deeply, chuffing softly, a slow finger eventually finding his lord’s hand. 

Sometimes saying nothing was the best course of action.

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A strange curiosity reflected on each pale watchful eye of the rabisu. He couldn’t quite read or understand their emotional response, however it amused him to a point. A vampire, a creature as an affront to all natural order of life itself would dare hold themselves so self-righteously hold themselves above him? A blood drinker to a life drainer. They could have been one in the same. It seemed a little rich. There was something else though.

“Yes. I bleed. You do too. Do you think you could run from me if I wanted to follow?” He posed the question under a gentle tone. He wouldn’t follow. Truthfully. Menmire didn’t like to ‘chase’ his food. If they wanted to go they were always free to leave, all of his prey were, with whatever trauma he gave them. They didn’t need to know that though.

There is a shift in the air. Like an invisible sting. A burning sensation upon his flesh. A visceral sound barked from the entity as his eyes caught the sight of the vampire’s rosary being pulled into visibility. “Do you believe those trinket’s can save you!” The demon’s ears pinned back, teeth barred as an animal might do in retreat. He was threatened now. He could have stayed passive. He could have stayed an acquaintance, become a ‘friend’. He was older than that icon, older than the cross, older than any of it but it still repelled him, much the same way those little stone amulets had or a child’s night light could. All could hurt him. It was faith (that fickle concept). It was the true belief that such items could and would protect you.

“Why?!”

"Watch me stray further, then." Through a thin sheen of blood tears was a sting of scorn. Unable to look away, unable to conceal a visceral and spiritual hatred, they stared onwards. The sickly sweet porcine odor raked their senses and settled in the back of their throat. The conditions they slept and ate in didn't compare to the revolting scene before them.

Coyote would not acknowledge that he knew the truth about their hunger. They were always hungry, even when they could pretend they were entirely sated. The Passenger was demanding and unhuman, only to be satisfied if prey was left a husk. They simply refused to oblige it despite the temptation and punishment it would continuously deliver. This wasn't out of self-flagellation but entirely out of spite.

He stepped forward, so Coyote stepped back. "Is it your place to inform me where heaven touches?" They snarled. The noise he made caused them to recoil, they were torn between disdain and terror. Trembling hands frantically searching for their rosary under the fabric of their shirt. "Do you bleed? Your words only carry the weight to tell me so if you do."

Finally, their fingers connected with wooden beads, and they slowly pulled the rosary off over their head. They wrapped it around their wrist, allowing the cross to settle in their palm.

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𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑳 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 .    (  a  collection  of  100  nonverbal  action  prompts .   mature  and  potentially  triggering  themes  are  present .   add  “ + reverse ”  to  swap  assigned  roles .)

∗ o1﹕ sender  tucks  hair  out  of  receiver’s  face . ∗ o2﹕ sender  offers  receiver  a  bite  from  their  fork . ∗ o3﹕ sender  places  their  feet / legs  in  receiver's  lap . ∗ o4﹕ sender  offers  receiver  an  earbud  to  share  their  music . ∗ o5﹕ sender  comforts  receiver  in  the  aftermath  of  a  nightmare . ∗ o6﹕ sender  gives  receiver  company  in  the  hospital . ∗ o7﹕ sender  wraps  their  arms  around  a  hysterical  receiver  to  calm  them . ∗ o8﹕ sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night . ∗ o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver . ∗ 1o﹕ sender  wields  a  [ gun / knife ]  at  receiver . ∗ 11﹕ sender  runs  their  fingers  through  receiver’s  hair . ∗ 12﹕ sender  invites  receiver  to  dance . ∗ 13﹕ sender  takes  a  [ picture / video ]  of  receiver . ∗ 14﹕ sender  places  their  head  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 15﹕ sender  and  receiver  make  eye  contact  across  a  busy  room . ∗ 16﹕ sender  pushes  receiver  against  a  wall  to  kiss  them . ∗ 17﹕ sender  and  receiver  cook  together . ∗ 18﹕ sender  comes  to  receiver  after  being  injured . ∗ 19﹕ sender  sits  in  receiver’s  lap . ∗ 2o﹕ sender  lifts  receiver's  chin ,  invoking  eye  contact . ∗ 21﹕ sender  overtakes  receiver  in  combat . ∗ 22﹕ sender  finds  receiver  [ injured / bloodied ] . ∗ 23﹕ sender  straightens  an  article  of  receiver’s  clothes . ∗ 24﹕ sender  crawls  into  bed  with  receiver . ∗ 25﹕ sender  rolls  their  eyes  at  receiver . ∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  [ cigarette / joint ] . ∗ 27﹕ sender  is  caught  wearing  receiver's  clothes . ∗ 28﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  with  a  pillow . ∗ 29﹕ sender  writes  a  note  on  receiver’s  skin :  [ note ] . ∗ 3o﹕ sender  wraps  a  blanket  around  receiver’s  shoulders . ∗ 31﹕ sender  runs  and  jumps  into  receiver’s  arms . ∗ 32﹕ sender  shoves  receiver  out  of  anger . ∗ 33﹕ sender  hovers  over  receiver’s  shoulder  as  they  complete  a  task . ∗ 34﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be . ∗ 35﹕ sender  curls  up  against  receiver  in  their  sleep . ∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver . ∗ 37﹕ sender  throws  an  item  of  sentiment  bitterly  at  receiver . ∗ 38﹕ sender  joins  receiver  in  the  shower . ∗ 39﹕ sender  is  caught  following  receiver . ∗ 4o﹕ sender  traces  one  of  receiver’s  [ scars / bruises ] . ∗ 41﹕ sender  twines  their  fingers  with  receiver’s . ∗ 42﹕ sender  barges  into  receiver’s  home  unannounced . ∗ 43﹕ sender  kicks  receiver’s  shin  beneath  a  table . ∗ 44﹕ sender  aggressively  shoves  past  receiver . ∗ 45﹕ sender  kisses  receiver’s  [ forehead / cheek ] . ∗ 46﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  out  of  harm’s  way . ∗ 47﹕ sender  is  found  sobbing  by  receiver . ∗ 48﹕ sender  locks  receiver  out  of  their  room . ∗ 49﹕ sender  brings  receiver  [ coffee / tea ]  in  the  morning . ∗ 5o﹕ sender  rests  their  forehead  against  receiver’s . ∗ 51﹕ sender  plays  a  song  for  receiver  that  reminds  them  of  them :  [ song ] . ∗ 52﹕ sender  takes  a  [ punch / stab / bullet ]  meant  for  receiver . ∗ 53﹕ sender  buys  receiver  a  drink  at  a  bar . ∗ 54﹕ sender  needs  receiver’s  help  getting  in  the  bath . ∗ 55﹕ sender  and  receiver  cross  paths  in  the  kitchen  late  at  night . ∗ 56﹕ sender  twists  receiver’s  arm  behind  their  back . ∗ 57﹕ sender  winks  at  receiver . ∗ 58﹕ sender  is  found  collapsed  by  receiver . ∗ 59﹕ sender  prevents  an  injured  receiver  from  getting  up . ∗ 6o﹕ sender  claps  a  hand  over  receiver’s  mouth  to  silence  them . ∗ 61﹕ sender  cages  receiver  against  a  [ wall / the floor ]  with  their  arms . ∗ 62﹕ sender  storms  away  from  receiver  during  an  argument . ∗ 63﹕ sender  is  found  by  receiver  sleeping  in  receiver’s  bed . ∗ 64﹕ sender  [ applies / touches up ]  receiver’s  makeup . ∗ 65﹕ sender  throws  receiver  into  a  wall  during  combat . ∗ 66﹕ sender  dances  sensually  with  receiver . ∗ 67﹕ sender  strikes  receiver  across  the  face . ∗ 68﹕ sender  places  their  hand  on  receiver’s  leg  while  driving . ∗ 69﹕ sender  pulls  a  chair  out  from  under  receiver . ∗ 7o﹕ sender  catches  receiver’s  wrist  when  they  turn  to  leave . ∗ 71﹕ sender  leaves  an  intimate  mark  on  receiver . ∗ 72﹕ sender  beats  receiver  in  a  video  game . ∗ 73﹕ sender  and  receiver  stand  in  stunned  silence  after  a  fight . ∗ 74﹕ sender  cares  for  receiver  while  they’re  sick . ∗ 75﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  on  a  hike . ∗ 76﹕ sender  is  caught  snooping  in  receiver’s  things . ∗ 77﹕ sender  and  receiver  cuddle  while  watching  television . ∗ 78﹕ sender  throws  something  aggressively  at  receiver . ∗ 79﹕ sender  creeps  up  behind  receiver  to  scare  them . ∗ 8o﹕ sender  and  receiver  go  shopping  together . ∗ 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ dye / style ]  their  hair . ∗ 82﹕ sender  draws  receiver  into  a  kiss  by  the  back  of  their  neck . ∗ 83﹕ sender  is  discovered  having  a  panic  attack  by  receiver . ∗ 84﹕ sender  accidentally  injures  receiver  during  sparring . ∗ 85﹕ sender  grabs  receiver  roughly  by  the  hair . ∗ 86﹕ sender  brings  receiver  to  their  knees  during  combat . ∗ 87﹕ sender  shows  receiver  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ∗ 88﹕ sender  winks  [ seductively / mockingly ]  at  receiver . ∗ 89﹕ sender  yells  at  receiver  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air . ∗ 9o﹕ sender  helps  receiver  patch  up  a  wound . ∗ 91﹕ sender  holds  receiver  as  they  cry . ∗ 92﹕ sender  silently  and  angrily  points  receiver  towards  the  door . ∗ 93﹕ sender  gestures  for  receiver  to  sit  down . ∗ 94﹕ sender  pulls  receiver  into  their  lap . ∗ 95﹕ sender  cradles  receiver’s  face . ∗ 96﹕ sender  tackles  receiver  out  of  the  way  of  danger . ∗ 97﹕ sender  has  hidden  an  injury  from  receiver ,  and  receiver  finds  out . ∗ 98﹕ sender  confronts  receiver  about  their  unhealthy  behavior . ∗ 99﹕ sender  proposes  to  receiver . ∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out .

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heh... kitty man

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A rumble vibrates from the demon at the sound of his own name. His sharp ears pinned flush to his skull. His head bows low, each strange pale eye regarding his lord’s attention like a penitent child expecting some sort of punishment. His lord saw all. He had not thought his lord would even regard his presence. “Lord Belphegor,” His master’s name rolls from his throat guttural and raw, although there is an unusual softness. He slunk forward around the throne, hunching low to prowl against the ground until he could face the other formally. His head lifted slightly, locking eyes with the lord.

“I could never devote myself to another, although I may traverse their realms and indulge in their whims from time to time." He groaned softly. "As such things are in my nature. I have no desire for the politics. Ask for me and I shall answer only your call. I am yours, devoted to your throne. As always.” He rambles a bit, although, groveling, for the most part, the demon seems genuine.

@lemuttu asked: A low rumbling resounds from the demon as it pads toward his lord Belphegor and seats himself quietly at his side. He doesn't involve himself with the lord very often. In the past, the rabisu, long since distanced himself from hell almost entirely, despite that he could occasionally make the effort to wander its depths. / unprompted.

He is lazily sprawled across his throne, sunk down so that he almost lays upon it while his legs ( skinny and long in their arachnid-like grotesqueness ) are kicked out in front of him and his arms hang over the armrests by his sides. An odd image, truthfully, because as he sits there with his chin tucked into his chest and his lashes fluttering close, it almost appears as though he is sleeping.

And yet he knows he is approaching him, knows it because the branches of the trees are whispering ( he is all eyes, he is all ears; within his domain, the forest of hell, he knows everything ). So he lets him approach, until he feels him settle. " Menmire. ", his name is an exhale and somewhere something is laughing quietly in return. Finally, Belphegor opens his red eyes, lifting his head so that he can prop it on his hand and regard him curiously. " It has been a while. And here I thought you had devoted yourself to another lord. "

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African lion Ouwehand ED8A5190 by safi kok

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Mahesh Jadu as Vilgefortz The Witcher (2021) Episode 3┃What is Lost

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@mxldito cont. from here

A deep rumble rolled off the walls of the house, like thunder, shaking the very foundations. A scene of violence. A mess of viscera days old, rancid and decaying, strewn across the carpet in haphazard display, and the uncanny bestial demon amongst it all nestled quietly against the gore. Like a hunter stumbling accidentally into a lion’s den. It was quite the sight to be seen. The stench of rot clung heavy to the Rabisu as it rose to stand. A coating of dark red streaked down a chest of dull gold. Not quite human, not quite any one particular animal. Feet like an eagle, gait like the baboon, and the head like the lion. He was a demon straight off the manuscripts and temple walls. He was real.

“I have nothing. I offer nothing. However, you are a poor liar. And you strayed too far, little hungry one.”

His head hung lowly studying the vampire, its ears pinned back and nose wrinkled in distaste and agitation to the company, although nevertheless curious to the blood drinker's unusual plea to the heavens. It was frightened wasn’t it? That was nothing special. It fed into fear. It fed off of it. Literally, figuratively. He liked when things were afraid. It made things fun, and Menmire loved to play. A ring of five hungry pale eyes burned softly in the dull light, each one slowly turning upward.

“Heaven – ?” A voice heavy and strained resounded deep from within the demon’s throat. A hideous yawn, a choir of animal sounds, followed a lumbering step forward. “Heaven – is not here. No song. No prayer. Heaven does not answer us. It does not answer to the shadows.”

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Give my muse unwanted advice!

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Somewhere deep down Menmire secretly likes hugs.

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Gelada studies from photo references.

Truly these things are peak creature design. The split second transformation from recognizable monke to viscerally terrifying fang displaying alien. Mwah inspiring I love em

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❛ Would it really kill you if we kissed? ❜ (from Bee 👀)

A noise abrupt and half snorted came forth from the bestial golden skinned demon. His ears pinned back flat to his skull. If the demon weren’t so indecisive and conceited he would have blushed at the thought of wrapping his savage maw around the hell lord, but instead he merely greeted the premise with a half snarl and a halo of narrowed eyes.

“It would.”