"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 : ā 19ļ¹ senderĀ sitsĀ inĀ receiverāsĀ lap . (from Bee <3)
āMy lord ā please āĀ why?ā You shouldnātāā A sharp surprise cried out in Menmireās 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. ā 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 lordās attention). He exhaled deeply, chuffing softly, a slow finger eventually finding his lordās hand.Ā
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 couldnāt 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.
āYes. I bleed. You do too. Do you think you could run from me if I wanted to follow?ā He posed the question under a gentle tone. He wouldnāt follow. Truthfully. Menmire didnāt like to āchaseā 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 didnāt 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 vampireās rosary being pulled into visibility. āDo you believe those trinketās can save you!ā The demonās 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 āfriendā. 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 childās 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.
āWhy?!ā
"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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ššš šµš¶šµš½š¬š¹š©šØš³ š·š¹š¶š“š·š»šŗ . Ā Ā ( Ā a Ā collection Ā of Ā 100 Ā nonverbalĀ actionĀ prompts .Ā Ā matureĀ andĀ potentiallyĀ triggeringĀ themes Ā are Ā present . Ā add Ā ā + reverse ā Ā to Ā swap Ā assigned Ā roles .)
ā o1ļ¹Ā senderĀ tucksĀ hairĀ outĀ ofĀ receiverāsĀ face .
ā o2ļ¹ sender Ā offers Ā receiver Ā a Ā bite Ā from Ā their Ā fork .
ā o3ļ¹ senderĀ placesĀ theirĀ feet / legsĀ inĀ receiver'sĀ lap .
ā o4ļ¹ senderĀ offersĀ receiverĀ anĀ earbudĀ toĀ shareĀ theirĀ music .
ā o5ļ¹ senderĀ comfortsĀ receiverĀ inĀ theĀ aftermathĀ ofĀ aĀ nightmare .
ā o6ļ¹ senderĀ givesĀ receiverĀ companyĀ inĀ theĀ hospital .
ā o7ļ¹Ā sender Ā wraps Ā their Ā arms Ā around Ā a Ā hysterical Ā receiver Ā to Ā calm Ā them .
ā o8ļ¹ senderĀ showsĀ upĀ atĀ receiverāsĀ homeĀ lateĀ atĀ night .
ā o9ļ¹ senderĀ fallsĀ asleepĀ leaningĀ againstĀ receiver .
ā 1oļ¹ senderĀ wieldsĀ aĀ [ gun / knife ]Ā atĀ receiver .
ā 11ļ¹Ā senderĀ runsĀ theirĀ fingersĀ throughĀ receiverāsĀ hair .
ā 12ļ¹ senderĀ invitesĀ receiverĀ toĀ dance .
ā 13ļ¹ senderĀ takesĀ aĀ [ picture / video ]Ā ofĀ receiver .
ā 14ļ¹ senderĀ placesĀ theirĀ headĀ inĀ receiverāsĀ lap .
ā 15ļ¹ senderĀ andĀ receiverĀ makeĀ eyeĀ contactĀ acrossĀ aĀ busyĀ room .
ā 16ļ¹ senderĀ pushesĀ receiverĀ againstĀ aĀ wallĀ toĀ kissĀ them .
ā 17ļ¹Ā senderĀ andĀ receiverĀ cookĀ together .
ā 18ļ¹ senderĀ comesĀ toĀ receiverĀ afterĀ beingĀ injured .
ā 19ļ¹ senderĀ sitsĀ inĀ receiverāsĀ lap .
ā 2oļ¹ senderĀ liftsĀ receiver'sĀ chin ,Ā invokingĀ eyeĀ contact .
ā 21ļ¹ senderĀ overtakesĀ receiverĀ inĀ combat .
ā 22ļ¹ senderĀ findsĀ receiverĀ [ injured / bloodied ] .
ā 23ļ¹ senderĀ straightensĀ anĀ articleĀ ofĀ receiverāsĀ clothes .
ā 24ļ¹ senderĀ crawlsĀ intoĀ bedĀ withĀ receiver .
ā 25ļ¹ senderĀ rollsĀ theirĀ eyesĀ atĀ receiver .
ā 26ļ¹ senderĀ lightsĀ receiverāsĀ [ cigarette / joint ] .
ā 27ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ caughtĀ wearingĀ receiver'sĀ clothes .
ā 28ļ¹ senderĀ strikesĀ receiverĀ withĀ aĀ pillow .
ā 29ļ¹ senderĀ writesĀ aĀ noteĀ onĀ receiverāsĀ skin :Ā [ note ] .
ā 3oļ¹Ā senderĀ wrapsĀ aĀ blanketĀ aroundĀ receiverāsĀ shoulders .
ā 31ļ¹Ā senderĀ runsĀ andĀ jumpsĀ intoĀ receiverāsĀ arms .
ā 32ļ¹ senderĀ shovesĀ receiverĀ outĀ ofĀ anger .
ā 33ļ¹ sender Ā hovers Ā over Ā receiverās Ā shoulder Ā as Ā they Ā complete Ā a Ā task .
ā 34ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ foundĀ byĀ receiverĀ somewhereĀ theyĀ shouldnātĀ be .
ā 35ļ¹ senderĀ curlsĀ upĀ againstĀ receiverĀ inĀ theirĀ sleep .
ā 36ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ foundĀ drunkĀ byĀ receiver .
ā 37ļ¹ senderĀ throwsĀ anĀ itemĀ ofĀ sentimentĀ bitterlyĀ atĀ receiver .
ā 38ļ¹ senderĀ joinsĀ receiverĀ inĀ theĀ shower .
ā 39ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ caughtĀ followingĀ receiver .
ā 4oļ¹Ā senderĀ tracesĀ oneĀ ofĀ receiverāsĀ [ scars / bruises ] .
ā 41ļ¹ senderĀ twinesĀ theirĀ fingersĀ withĀ receiverās .
ā 42ļ¹ senderĀ bargesĀ intoĀ receiverāsĀ homeĀ unannounced .
ā 43ļ¹ senderĀ kicksĀ receiverāsĀ shinĀ beneathĀ aĀ table .
ā 44ļ¹ senderĀ aggressivelyĀ shovesĀ pastĀ receiver .
ā 45ļ¹ senderĀ kissesĀ receiverāsĀ [ forehead / cheek ] .
ā 46ļ¹ senderĀ pullsĀ receiverĀ outĀ ofĀ harmāsĀ way .
ā 47ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ foundĀ sobbingĀ byĀ receiver .
ā 48ļ¹ senderĀ locksĀ receiverĀ outĀ ofĀ theirĀ room .
ā 49ļ¹ senderĀ bringsĀ receiverĀ [ coffee / tea ]Ā inĀ theĀ morning .
ā 5oļ¹ senderĀ restsĀ theirĀ foreheadĀ againstĀ receiverās .
ā 51ļ¹ senderĀ playsĀ aĀ songĀ forĀ receiverĀ thatĀ remindsĀ themĀ ofĀ them :Ā [ song ] .
ā 52ļ¹ senderĀ takesĀ aĀ [ punch / stab / bullet ]Ā meantĀ forĀ receiver .
ā 53ļ¹ senderĀ buysĀ receiverĀ aĀ drinkĀ atĀ aĀ bar .
ā 54ļ¹ senderĀ needsĀ receiverāsĀ helpĀ gettingĀ inĀ theĀ bath .
ā 55ļ¹ senderĀ andĀ receiverĀ crossĀ pathsĀ inĀ theĀ kitchenĀ lateĀ atĀ night .
ā 56ļ¹ senderĀ twistsĀ receiverāsĀ armĀ behindĀ theirĀ back .
ā 57ļ¹ senderĀ winksĀ atĀ receiver .
ā 58ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ foundĀ collapsedĀ byĀ receiver .
ā 59ļ¹ senderĀ preventsĀ anĀ injuredĀ receiverĀ fromĀ gettingĀ up .
ā 6oļ¹ senderĀ clapsĀ aĀ handĀ overĀ receiverāsĀ mouthĀ toĀ silenceĀ them .
ā 61ļ¹ senderĀ cagesĀ receiverĀ againstĀ aĀ [ wall / the floor ]Ā withĀ theirĀ arms .
ā 62ļ¹ senderĀ stormsĀ awayĀ fromĀ receiverĀ duringĀ anĀ argument .
ā 63ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ foundĀ byĀ receiverĀ sleepingĀ inĀ receiverāsĀ bed .
ā 64ļ¹ senderĀ [ applies / touches up ]Ā receiverāsĀ makeup .
ā 65ļ¹ senderĀ throwsĀ receiverĀ intoĀ aĀ wallĀ duringĀ combat .
ā 66ļ¹ senderĀ dancesĀ sensuallyĀ withĀ receiver .
ā 67ļ¹ sender Ā strikes Ā receiver Ā across Ā the Ā face .
ā 68ļ¹ senderĀ placesĀ theirĀ handĀ onĀ receiverāsĀ legĀ whileĀ driving .
ā 69ļ¹ senderĀ pullsĀ aĀ chairĀ outĀ fromĀ underĀ receiver .
ā 7oļ¹ senderĀ catchesĀ receiverāsĀ wristĀ whenĀ theyĀ turnĀ toĀ leave .
ā 71ļ¹ senderĀ leavesĀ anĀ intimateĀ markĀ onĀ receiver .
ā 72ļ¹ senderĀ beatsĀ receiverĀ inĀ aĀ videoĀ game .
ā 73ļ¹ senderĀ andĀ receiverĀ standĀ inĀ stunnedĀ silenceĀ afterĀ aĀ fight .
ā 74ļ¹ senderĀ caresĀ forĀ receiverĀ whileĀ theyāreĀ sick .
ā 75ļ¹ sender Ā andĀ receiverĀ goĀ onĀ aĀ hike .
ā 76ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ caughtĀ snoopingĀ inĀ receiverāsĀ things .
ā 77ļ¹ sender Ā andĀ receiverĀ cuddleĀ whileĀ watchingĀ television .
ā 78ļ¹ senderĀ throwsĀ somethingĀ aggressivelyĀ atĀ receiver .
ā 79ļ¹ senderĀ creepsĀ upĀ behindĀ receiverĀ toĀ scareĀ them .
ā 8oļ¹ senderĀ andĀ receiverĀ goĀ shoppingĀ together .
ā 81ļ¹ senderĀ helpsĀ receiverĀ [ dye / style ]Ā theirĀ hair .
ā 82ļ¹ senderĀ drawsĀ receiverĀ intoĀ aĀ kissĀ byĀ theĀ backĀ ofĀ theirĀ neck .
ā 83ļ¹ senderĀ isĀ discoveredĀ havingĀ aĀ panicĀ attackĀ byĀ receiver .
ā 84ļ¹Ā senderĀ accidentallyĀ injuresĀ receiverĀ duringĀ sparring .
ā 85ļ¹Ā senderĀ grabsĀ receiverĀ roughlyĀ byĀ theĀ hair .
ā 86ļ¹ senderĀ bringsĀ receiverĀ toĀ theirĀ kneesĀ duringĀ combat .
ā 87ļ¹ senderĀ showsĀ receiverĀ evidenceĀ ofĀ aĀ lieĀ theyĀ told .
ā 88ļ¹ sender Ā winksĀ [ seductively / mockingly ]Ā atĀ receiver .
ā 89ļ¹ senderĀ yellsĀ atĀ receiverĀ toĀ putĀ theirĀ handsĀ inĀ theĀ air .
ā 9oļ¹ senderĀ helpsĀ receiverĀ patchĀ upĀ aĀ wound .
ā 91ļ¹ senderĀ holdsĀ receiverĀ asĀ theyĀ cry .
ā 92ļ¹ senderĀ silentlyĀ andĀ angrilyĀ pointsĀ receiverĀ towardsĀ theĀ door .
ā 93ļ¹ sender Ā gesturesĀ forĀ receiverĀ toĀ sitĀ down .
ā 94ļ¹ sender Ā pullsĀ receiverĀ intoĀ theirĀ lap .
ā 95ļ¹ senderĀ cradlesĀ receiverāsĀ face .
ā 96ļ¹ senderĀ tacklesĀ receiverĀ outĀ ofĀ theĀ wayĀ ofĀ danger .
ā 97ļ¹ senderĀ hasĀ hiddenĀ anĀ injuryĀ fromĀ receiver ,Ā andĀ receiverĀ findsĀ out .
ā 98ļ¹ senderĀ confrontsĀ receiverĀ aboutĀ theirĀ unhealthyĀ behavior .
ā 99ļ¹ senderĀ proposesĀ toĀ receiver .
ā 1ooļ¹ sender Ā has Ā just Ā died , Ā receiver Ā finds Ā 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 lordās 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. āLord Belphegor,ā His masterās 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.
āI 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.ā 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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flickr
African lion Ouwehand ED8A5190 by safi kok
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Mahesh Jadu as Vilgefortz
The Witcher (2021)
Episode 3āWhat 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 lionās 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.
āI have nothing. I offer nothing. However, you are a poor liar. And you strayed too far, little hungry one.ā
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 wasnāt 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.
āHeaven ā ?ā A voice heavy and strained resounded deep from within the demonās throat. A hideous yawn, a choir of animal sounds, followed a lumbering step forward. āHeaven ā is not here. No song. No prayer. Heaven does not answer us. It does not answer to the shadows.ā
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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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āĀ Would it really kill you if we kissed? ā (from Bee š)
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 werenāt 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.
āIt would.ā
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