#diabolical human beast

[skinetom]

Horrors of Spider Island ~ AKA ~

Body in the Web

Girls of Spider Island

It's Hot in Paradise

The Spider's Web

A Corpse Hung in the Web

~ 1960

[awesomecooperlove]

🤨🤨🤨

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[karinzany]

SPOILERS: Chapter 1094 of ONE PIECE

We've finally seen St. Jaygarcia Saturn's real form on chapter 1094, and it is absolutely diabolical. It seems to be inspired by a yōkai called Ushi-oni. So I went back to chapter 1085 and tried to connect the rest of the Gorosei with other yōkai. Here are my predictions:

Ushi-oni: In Wakayama Prefecture, ushi-oni are mountain-dwelling beasts. Legend says when a hiker or traveler makes eye contact with the ushi-oni, the person cannot avert his or her gaze. The person's soul or energy is drained and he or she dies. This is called “Kage wo kuu (影を食う)” or sometimes "Kage wo nomu (影を飲む)", which translates to “eating the shadow” or "drinking the soul".

Aosaginohi: Aosaginohi, or Aosagibi (青(あお)鷺(さぎ)火(び), "blue heron fire") is a phenomenon illustrated by Toriyama Sekien in his Konjaku Gazu Zoku Hyakki. It depicts a night heron with a mysteriously illuminated body. Folklore built around the phenomenon tells a story of an old black-crowned night heron transforming into a yokai. The herons' feathers fuse into shining scales that give off an iridescent blue light in the dark of night. The yokai's breath is also said to release golden powder into the air that collects to form a heat-less fiery light, though this light eventually dissipates in the wind. The harmless creature is said to flee from human contact, retaining a normal heron's shyness. Legend also warns to not confuse the glimmering blue-white light with onibi lights.

Baku: Baku (獏 or 貘) are Japanese supernatural beings that are said to devour nightmares. According to legend, they were created by the spare pieces that were left over when the gods finished creating all other animals. They have a long history in Japanese folklore and art, and more recently have appeared in manga and anime. The Japanese term baku has two current meanings, referring to both the traditional dream-devouring creature and to the Malayan tapir. In recent years, there have been changes in how the baku is depicted.

Benzaiten: Benzaiten (shinjitai: 弁才天 or 弁財天; kyūjitai: 辯才天, 辨才天, or 辨財天, lit. "goddess of eloquence"), also simply known as Benten (shinjitai: 弁天; kyūjitai: 辯天 / 辨天), is a Japanese Buddhist goddess who originated mainly from Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of speech, the arts, and learning, with certain traits deriving from the warrior goddess Durga. Due to her status as a water deity, she was also linked with nāgas, dragons, and snakes. Apart from being a patron of music and the arts, she was eventually also worshiped as a bestower of monetary fortune and was reckoned as one of the Seven Lucky Gods (Shichifukujin).

Ōkubi: In Japanese folklore, Ōkubi (大首) are giant heads of either men or women. An Ōkubi appearing in the sky is a sign of impending disaster, which may be a typhoon, earthquake, tsunami, or fire. These disasters are often attributed to the Ōkubi. Ōkubi are otherwise harmless and will disappear soon after the first sighting. They are thought to be sky spirits who protect the sky's or people who died during a natural disaster. They are said to protect people from the natural disasters and protect the sky from demonic sky spirits. It is said if one does not pay respect for the Ōkubi, they will be turned into sky spirits and their face will appear in the sky immediately. Those who do pay respect are said to get good fortune and gifts.

PS.: This silhouette probably belongs to Imu themselves, but I can't figure out what yōkai or supernatural being it represents. What are your theories?

EDIT: Thank you @ozo-blog and @marimo-kyun for your suggestion!

On chapter 1069, Vegapunk said that Devil Fruits earned the ire of Mother Nature, which is the Sea itself. The name Imu can be read as Umi backwards, meaning "Sea" in Japanese. So, maybe Imu has a power that controls the sea? Umibozu would be on theme for them.

Umibōzu: Umibōzu (海坊主, "sea priest") is a paranormal phenomenon or yōkai from Japanese folklore. Other names include Umihōshi (海法師, "sea priest") or Uminyūdō (海入道, "sea priest"). Little is known of the origin of umibōzu but it is a sea-spirit and as such has multiple sightings throughout Japan. Normally, umibōzu appears to sailors on calm seas which quickly turn tumultuous. It either breaks the ship on emergence or demands a bucket or barrel from the sailors and proceeds to drown them. The only safe way to escape an umibōzu is to give it a bottomless barrel and sail away while it is confused.

Alternative: I've also seen another theory that says Imu could be Satan (from the Bible, yes) because he has a Red Dragon form that could relate to the Celestial Dragon's symbol, a red dragon hoof.

Red Dragon (Biblical Satan): The Red Dragon is a form of the Biblical Satan, otherwise known as Lucifer, the former Seraphim that rebelled against the Creator and became evil in Christianity and Hebrew religions. His alias, the Red Dragon, was described in the Bible to have seven heads, ten horns, seven crowns, and a massive tail that knocks one-third of the stars out of the sky. The Red Dragon is mentioned to have other names like the Serpent of Old and the Devil. It is said in the Bible that Satan will take the form of the Red Dragon and will along with the Antichrist, the False Prophet, and the Beast, deceive most of Humanity. After that the Red Dragon will be set free upon the world in which he will rule alongside demons for three long years. After that God will cast the Red Dragon, demons, and other dammed evil souls into Lake of Fire, thus finally destroying the evil of Satan forever.

During the time-skip, we've seen Brook being accidentally summoned by a Satanic cult, which implies the existence of Satan in the One Piece world. Now, on chapter 1094, we've seen again a summoning circle, this time for St. Jaygarcia Saturn. I think it's pretty obvious the connection between real world devils and the Gorosei and Imu.

It's all going to come to the ironic conclusion that the D. clan, the enemies of the Gods, are Gods themselves (like Nika) and the Celestial Dragons, the Gods of the world, are actual Devils.

[victoriadallonfan]

Dead Eye (A Supernatural Fantasy)

I published the first chapter of my Original Story:

Dead Eye

The world exists under the Heavenly Eye, its light protecting humanity from the worst of the Dark Depths and the monsters that writhe to the surface with every nightly blink. To combat this threat, a select few humans have been granted blessings in the forms of Glimmers and Glares, their eyes empowered by the Heavenly force itself. A global empire unites mankind against the dark forces of the Gorgon beasts, but not all is well under the command of the Empress. Some distant colonies strain against her all-seeing hold, while others are subsumed by the Gorgons for their own diabolical means. Act 1: Persa, Sabra, and Milian are sent to the colony of Ena as Honored Masked, investigating disturbing rumors of disloyalty to the empire and thus, the Empress. And while the colony has its share of dark secrets and twists, it is the relationship between the untested Persa and steel-willed Sabra that threatens to reveal a secret that could unravel everything.

[imaginariumwanderer]

So I finished the latest story...

This is pretty horrifying from a cookie's perspective. One of cookiekind's main forms of happiness is their ability to express their various colorful flavors/personality. I suppose it's the same thing as tripping a living human of their sentient and individuality. Ego death. Leaving behind hollow flesh

We be committing unspeakable crimes against nature with this one✨

We be crumbling our colleagues while slowly losing our mind with this one✨

On another note, "eyecing" make its glorious return. I have no memory of it being used before the Mystic Flour update. Can anyone point out the other times it was used, if there's any?

????!!!!! OMG HIIII

MORE CJ PAWLIKOWSKI VOICE ACTING YES YES YES

Don't do it, don't give me hope...

I know he's the last to be released u don't need to tease me like that

So the other-space here clearly refer to the Dark side of the Moon, right? Is there any other-space I don't know about? Also, I guess this confirmed Shadow Milk is the only one able to do this astral projection thing. On one hand, it increases his chance of appearing a bit more before his own update, on the other hand, we most likely won't see the other Beasts having any talking-role any time soon

The implications here...

So the Beasts may likely have their own voices of their Light just like the Ancients does. And "Soul Jam"... Without an (s), Shadow Milk is specifically referring to his Soul Jam here, I can't believe my headcanon of the Light of Deceit/Knowledge whispering things to him is becoming true

It's a thing unique to Shadow Milk and not the other Beasts too. Interesting how both the voices of the Light of Truth and Deceit operate differently from the other Lights' (referring to the theory that the Light of Truth have never make an actual appearance since all instances of it in-game were all Shadow Milk's disguise)

... Clownage. Whelp! time to integrate that into my daily vocabulary!

Alright, so we got confirmation Smilk is not only aware of Dark Enchantress' plans but he's actively helping her out. Whenever he's oblivious to her other, secret plans (stealing the Beasts' Soul Jams) or he's aware and already have a counter measures to it though, is still up in the air.

My money is on the latter. Shadow Milk have shown time and time again he's way more knowledgeable than he let on. The way Dark Enchantress was depicted in his previous "play" does show us a certain level of... Appreciation(?) but who's to say he actually trusts her? It really does feel like a "I rub your back if you rub mine and then we'll backstab each other" kind of deal. Now I'm curious about the other Beasts' opinions on Dark Enchantress as well.

Where's Dark Enchantress anyways? We haven't seen her make any on-screen appearance in a while. I, um, I missed her a lot actually. I missed the diabolical meema

Laughing at Wind Archer cookie repeatedly telling Smilk to stfu from the moment they've met. He's saying what we've all been thinking

Also laughing at Shadow Milk basically only here to make cryptic riddles and mocks our Wind Archer. He really does have nothing better to do lol

Yeah that's right, FRIENDSHIP will save the day!

For real tho, tons of intriguing implications about the Ultimate Cookie with this one. I gotta mulls over them for awhile...

GUYS NEW SMILK'S SPRITE JUST DROPPED

HE'S ROLLING HIS EYES. HE'S SO DONE I'M DEAD

"In conclusion, this changed nothing!"

Kidding, kidding! I was getting real worried for Wind Archer there despite knowing full-well it's not crk's style to let something happen to a character unless they're a minor villain or an elderly *grinding my teeth trying not to bring up Elder Faerie again oops too late-*

The unexpected yet sweet moment of empathy Wind Archer have toward the Ultimate Cookie combined with the stunning animation toward the end were definitely my favorite part of this little adventure. Although I half-expected for him to have his magical girl transformation like White Lily and Dark Cacao right then and there-

"Beast-Yeast EP 5 coming soon to theaters near you! Remember to stay tuned, mkay? Okie dokie? Pinkie promiseee?"

[rosalinesurvived]

Listen up Sparky, here’s the deal:

Shirase at age seven did convince the elder Sheep members to take in a random child Chuuya, even though they had no clue at this point that he could help them and would be a burden. Not because he was a diabolical seven year old. Because at that point, Chuuya was just like him. Its that fact of basic, mundane and immense humanity that carries on Chuuya. Framing this child as inherently manipulative takes away from the literal message of bsd–there is no winner here.

And as things carry on of course they’re going to depend more and more heavily on Chuuya. Look at Akutagawa’s past in Beast! The streets are a terrible, terrible place to live, even without ability users! And of course Chuuya’s going to feel the need take on the burden of it all, what’s the point of boundaries if it gets people-his people-killer? If nobody else can then who? The whole situation means that neither of them are able to grow as people, develop on their own turns, its a symbiotic relationship if anything because in both of them there are different types of strengths but yes, in Shirase and the rest of the Sheep’s eyes, Chuuya’s ability would’ve come before any of it. They would be dead or significantly worse without him–look at how quickly they get taken by the GSS–something which may have been averted if they had the chance to develop into a force instead of relying on Chuuya, but they couldnt and didnt.

Its not insane to assume that Shirase was thinking as a leader. Before Chuuya leaves with Dazai in Fifteen Shirase says he’s been trying to dispel the rumors that Chuuya’s leaving. The Port Mafia are arguably their biggest threat, its only been a year since Mori killed the Old Boss-under which the Mafia were known for their widespread cruelty. It doesnt take a madman to think that Shirase fully believed Chuuya would stay with them over the Mafia. It must’ve been an absolute sucker punch to realise he was going. And then what? How long before the Sheep could stay safe on their own?

[lollytea]

please I've been experiencing a huntlow drought lately and desperately need more.

*wheezes and raises hand up to the heavens*

p-please . . .

Besides Cosmic Frontier, Hunter's favourite form of Human Realm entertainment are these old, kinda corny horror/sci fi movies where a monster/alien/creature snatches up a beautiful girl and refuses to give her back.

Willow thinks they're so silly but she loves watching them with him cuz she gets to tease him a lot for the funny faces he makes while watching and the way he wriggles in excitement. Hunter very transparently loves these movies because he wants to BE one of the beautiful girls captured by a monster and Willow get a lot of mileage out of that.

However, they can never actually finish a movie in peace because Willow is a bit of a menace. Hunter's obvious attraction to monsters gets her acting up. They'll be all cuddled up when Willow randomly squeezes Hunter's hips, making him squeak.

And God when he sees the fucking LOOK on her face, he knows its over for him. That face is as monstrous and diabolical as any creature he's ever seen on screen.

"No," Says Hunter, attempting to keep his tone firm, while he hopelessly tries shimmying out of her hands. But she's got him smiling in anticipation against his will. He knows what's coming. "No, no, no, no, nonono. The movie. Let me finish the movie..."

Willow hums mischievously, crawling on top of him as he fails to get away. "Tragic. The princess begs the beast to spare him, but he is simply too beautiful for the beast to resist."

"Willowwww....."

"The beast ATTACKS"

Bite bite bite. Kissy kissy kissy. Will this poor man ever get to finish a monster movie in his life?

[twistedshipper]

The Well written for @merlinmicrofic

prompt: sunlight | Not Rated | Morgana & Aithusa | Graphic Violence, Torture

It is dark. And in the dark, if kept there for a long time, the mind slips, human need, identity evaporating like the still water in the bottom of the well, where he has kept her chained in black pitch.

Who is she? Can she remember?

Thoughts become voices. A buzz. Like the drone of flies feasting upon a carcass. It is damp at the bottom of the well, moist, putrid with the stench of idle flesh and grime.

Sometimes, she remembers, it is her flesh, with the sensation of maggots crawling, biting, itching her skin. She claws at her arms, her chest, her jagged nails cutting her where infection can seep in.

In the dark, no light to determine day or night, and so they bleed into each other, behind her open eyes in myriad splotches of haze, like midges come to devour her eyes. What she would give to pluck out the eyes of the man to have done this to her, to them. Coiled beside her, warped, her body broken, cries her companion, the small, silver dragon whose wails she hears not with her ears but in her head, imprinted upon her mind.

It is only when she raises a hand to her mouth that she understands the screams are her own.

Then there is light, sunlight, an agony worse than the dark, that sears her eyes so that they are on fire, burning, and so she closes them, but still the white hot light flashes behind the lids, and she knows that soon she will be fed, food for the prisoner that she is, scraps fit for no beast, but the animal that she is.

She gorges herself on the food, picks it apart with her fingers, savoring each bite of what with time becomes indescribable to her tongue; it takes hours, or days; there is no longer meaning.

Except in sleep. Then she can escape the cell, but the dreams are diabolic and fraught with terrors—visions of various futures to come, and dreadful pasts, those which she tried to suppress for so long, come hurling back.

Former friends, now enemies. She beholds them all plastered behind her eyes; sometimes, she sees them in the well with her, where she is at their mercy, and so, she clutches at her neck, gasping for air, for breath.

But they are not there, and it is only she, Aithusa, and the well.

And the dark, how could she forget.

It is in the dark, that the darkness seeps into her soul, her heart and mind too battered and marred to come back from this breaking intact, and so she splinters, and the pieces of her splinter into monstrosity where she vows—the one lucid thought in her mind, whispering it to herself over and over again—that if she sees the end of this death pit, she will have her revenge. Swears it.

After all, if anything, she is dogged and patient where just deserts are due.

[paperanddice]

Eater of Dust

A terrible creature that resembles a knight wearing plate armor made of calcified resin. Its helmet has no eye slots or mouthpiece, or hinge to be opened, and its weapon is a glistening greatsword that consists of a great mouth. This is an eater of dust, a strange being from some lost dimension of nightmares, now wandering the planes without a true home. Known by the name yakat-shi in ancient texts, they most often associate with demons, devils, and other such fiends, acting as mercenaries. Seeking out new meals, they can devour nearly anything with their mawblades, from dust to diamonds, from flesh to metal. Offerings of unusual or previously unheard of flavors can draw in yakat-shi, ready to operate in small but deadly military units.

The armor they wear is actually a secreted resin as hard as steel, which binds to the skin and cannot be removed. When cracked, it seeps ichor that glistens like a nautilus shell and quickly seals the wound. Older yakat-shi have networks of mother-of-pearl scars on their armor, marks of battle survived. Lightning disrupts this rapid healing however, leaving cracks open longer and the eater of dust vulnerable to death, so enemies that utilize lightning are usually targeted first. In general those who engage in mercenary work seem to have nothing but contempt for other life forms, even their own allies, devouring those they kill and their equipment. In particular, they seem to enjoy devouring and destroying powerful magical gear, hunting for intelligent weapons especially.

Completely silent, eaters of dust communicate only through telepathy. They stand a bit taller than most humans, at around 7 feet, and tend to weigh between 350 and 400 pounds.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Eater of Dust Creature 9 Rare, Medium, Aberration Perception +19; hearing (precise) 60 feet Languages Aklo, Chthonian, Common, Diabolic (can't speak any language); telepathy 100 feet Skills Athletics +20, Intimidation +18, Occultism +15, Survival +17 Str +5, Dex +2, Con +5, Int +0, Wis +2, Cha +3 AC 29; Fort +20, Ref +15, Will +17 HP 130 (regeneration 10 (deactivated by electricity)); Immunities blinded, poison; Resistances acid 10, cold 10 Speed 30 feet Melee mawblade +20 (magical), Damage 2d10+11 piercing Occult Innate Spells DC 26 ; 4th harm (×3), heal, translocate, unfettered movement (×3); 1st sure strike (×3); Devour Any time the eater of dust scores a critical hit with a mawblade Strike, it picks one of the following effects: it also deals the same amount of damage to the target's armor, bypassing any Hardness lower than 10, like adamantine; or the target must succeed at a DC 28 Fortitude save or become drained 1, or increase its drained value by 1. Weapon Bond The eater of dust's mawblade is treated as if it were made of any solid precious metal for the purpose of ignoring resistances or immunities, or exploiting weaknesses. The eater of dust always knows the direction and distance of its mawblade, as long as it's on the same plane of existence.

13th Age

Eater of Dust Double-strength 5th level troop [aberration] Initiative: +9 Mawblade +10 vs. AC (2 attacks) – 20 damage. Natural 14+: The target takes a -1 penalty to AC (save ends). Natural 18+: The target loses one recovery. Regeneration 10: The eater of dust heals 10 hit points at the start of each of its turns. It can regenerate five times per battle. If it heals to its maximum hit points, then that use of regeneration doesn’t count against the five-use limit. When the eater of dust is hit by an attack that deals lightning damage, it loses one use of its regeneration, and it can’t regenerate during its next turn. Dropping an eater of dust to 0 hp doesn’t kill it if it has any uses of regeneration left. Resist Acid 16+. AC 21 PD 18 MD 15 HP 130

[favorvn]

Y'know I haven't seen much of Z's eyes, but I bet they are very pretty ;3; <3333 How does Z feel about being so beautiful??

Z wouldn't use the word "beautiful" or "pretty" to describe himself. He might use "terrifying" or "vengeful" even sometimes "diabolical," but he would never think to use the word "beautiful".

Z doesn't feel like he is attractive. He doesn't even really think about it much or care. So Z especially doesn't expect anyone else to find him attractive. Even if he took on the form of the world's most gorgeous individual, Z would still assume enough about him was off-putting that he wouldn't be found attractive.

If M/C called him beautiful, he would probably freeze and then look around to figure out who they were talking to. Even if they clarified saying it was him, he would just take it as them trying to butter him up or sweet talk him for something. He would laugh and respond with:

"You should be careful not to flatter a demon too much human, I might just get too excited and eat you up ~"

He would also describe his eyes as "horrifying" rather than pretty, eyes that are fitting for a beast from hell.

I'd like to clarify that Z does not have low self esteem, he is very proud of the way he scares humans, demons, and angels alike. He is proud of his skills and his horrifying appearances. He just doesn't judge his pride on his ability to be attractive to others.

But he would be VERY flattered if his human complemented him on his appearance 🥰💕 he would get flustered and not know how to respond.

[sonicasura]

Ok Eggman would definitely get suspsious about Sonic and The Gang gathering up in one place ( Eggman keeps an eye on them with survaliance drones) and when he notices all of The Gang heading for Mystic Ruins, Eggman simply must know what all the fuss is about and is super shocked to learn that not only is The Time Eater still around, but Black Doom is back in action, along with the fact that Shadow, Omega, and Trainer are stuck in an unstable dimension. All that is incredibly interesting and that's not even getting into the Creation Trio and Celebi

One thing at a time after all

For now Eggman has his sights set on getting to the Main Trio and The Time Eater and Black Doom

Which means collecting the Chaos Emeralds before Sonic and The Gang

Eggman does love when a new diabolical plan falls right into his lap

Though unfortunately Eggman didn't notice there was an unwanted guest in the Robot's video and voice transmission

Dr. Starline

Looks like the race is on between 3 different factions

Eggman and Starline definitely are gonna cause some problems for the group. Completing even one objective would be extremely fruitful for them. Whether it's capturing the Creation Trio, taking the Chaos Emeralds or acquiring Black Doom and the Time Eater.

It pretty much leads to a small team staying with the Creation Trio once either mad scientist is spotted during the emerald hunt. Our heroes really don't want them causing too much trouble as Dialga already showed a nasty outcome should they fail.

The planet in a ruined state with dark red tendrils, howling Dark Arm monsters, and some places glitching or steadily disintegrating from how unstable time has become. Black Doom's second attempt at world domination is gonna be much more destructive if done through Time Eater Remnant's influence. No one rather see what the future would become should Eggman or Starline took control.

The Creation Trio did learn a thing from Trainer. Bring secret backup as the Master Emerald warned them about both scientists. Any potential surprise attack is gonna be countered by Necrozma and the Ultra Beasts.

Nothing like saving your favorite human to get powerful Pokemon working together. (That and being tired of insane people trying to abuse your power.)

[beaconforlove]

Humanic creatures let out a diabolical laugh

Terrifying the innocent and left to starve

She stands a foot onto the sand

Engulfed the haunting darkness, whatever those mystical beasts intend

Glistening orbs roamed, her soft cries echoed into the deafening silence

Nails digged into her clammy palms, echoes a shaky breath

For the reality left undiscovered

A little girl born fierce and a potential threat

The sooner she realises, the sooner it will happen

Conquering the territories, raising an empire

Divine play by the her ought to be The weapon

[mysticstarlightduck]

Two Truths and One Lie!

Thanks for the tag @willtheweaver (here)!

Please leave your guesses in reblogs or in the replies!💕

I'll go with Leora Tallin from Of Starlight and Beasts for this one!

Tagging (gently): @moonluringfrost @crowandmoonwriting @doublegoblin, @inky-duchess, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs, @sarahlizziewrites, @diabolical-blue, @memento-morri-writes, @rickie-the-storyteller, @smol-feralgremlin, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories, @cowboybrunch, @aalinaaaaaa, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @clairelsonao3, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @oh-no-another-idea, @rickie-the-storyteller, @jay-avian, @jasperygrace, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @illarian-rambling, @conkers-thecosy, @gummybugg, @anyablackwood, @mk-writes-stuff @thepeculiarbird and OPEN TAG!

[thoughts-of-el]

Makii: I know you are

Leroi: Because I have wings and a halo?

Makii: That's exactly how Angels are, right?

Leroi: So naive, what makes a person good or bad? Their deeds not their clothes, horns or halos

Makii: I don't understand

Leroi: We all look alike just as all humans do, it's our actions that separates us and that makes it all the more hard to distinguish who is who

Makii slowly took a few steps back as she felt the killing intent emanating from Leroi.

Leroi: Now you understand, I didn't save you from that beast, I only took its prey.

She turned around to run but it was too late, no soul has ever survived an encounter with the demon prince, Leroi Gravestone.

Not an actual story, just typed shit together in the spur of the moment😉😹 FYI; I love angels and a good twist 😈😎 Fking Diabolical but makes the best stories.

@aesthetic-writer18 @writing-prompt-s

[blackjackkent]

The man with the strange magic is in the center of the grove, surrounded by a group of tiefling children. They all have blades drawn. A battle is in the offing.

"Go on," the man is saying to one of the children. "Give me your best shot."

The boy, with a grunt of effort, heaves his sword up; there is a quick clang of steel on steel, and then the man has knocked the boy's sword aside and has his own rapier pointing to the heart, ready to strike.

Rakha's whole body tenses involuntarily, eager, waiting for the soft schikkk of metal through flesh, for the boy's blood to spatter across the wooden platform.

But nothing happens. The man smiles, draws his blade back.

"Not bad," he says mildly. "Again."

Rakha watches, bemused, tense with unspent craving, as the boy again lifts his sword. This time the strike is deflected even more easily, and the man follows it up with a sharp rap to the boy's hip with the flat of his rapier as if to punctuate the attempt.

The boy walks dejectedly back to his starting position. "I can't do it," he mutters. "I'm not like you."

The man crouches down to the boy's height and gives him a reassuring smile. "Umi," he says - his voice incongruously soft next to the hard steel in his hand. "I don't need you to be like me. You just have to buy enough time to run. Come on. I believe in you. You can do this."

Rakha has been watching this perplexing conversation play out in silence. The beast, unsated by the blood it expected, is roaring in her head - cut them both down if they will not do it themselves! - but there are other questions mixing with the bloodlust.

This is training for battle, then, she interprets slowly. The boy does not know how to fight. The man does. Strange enough in itself, for Rakha woke with the knowledge of fighting already in the sinews of her body and weaved in magic through her skull, and the concept of having to learn that violence is somewhat foreign.

The teaching, though, is stranger still. The man is not a tiefling - human, like Gale, Rakha guesses - and does not belong in this place. There is an air of casual strength about him, where the tieflings are frightened and disorganized. And visible only to Rakha's eyes is that rippling pale green aura of magic along his skin that bears no resemblance to the prismatic tapestry that fuels her own powers.

And yet he wastes his time on this boy that knows nothing. It somehow connects in her mind to the agitated tiefling woman, Rolan's sister, and her demands to stay in this place without cause. But she cannot articulate any understanding of either one.

"This whelp is hopeless," she points out matter-of-factly. It is not even an insult, but simple fact. "You're wasting your time."

She is surprised to see the way the man's expression hardens at once - not towards the boy, but towards her, a sharp twist of his head to face her and glare. "Ignore her, Umi," he murmurs, shifting his weight to stand a little between her and the child. "Go on. Practice what you've learned."

He waits until the boy has darted out of earshot, and then takes a step towards her, his eyes narrowing. "Well met," he says warily. "The Blade of Frontiers at your-- nngh--"

The pain again, another sharp stab at her temple. She doesn't even stagger this time, just bows her head into it as into a fierce wind; the pain is familiar as death now, the sign of another tadpole carrier.

Narrator: The man's smile bends downward and his thoughts become yours. You are the Blade of Frontiers, racing through the wastes of Avernus. Just ahead, a diabolical figure - red skin, single curled horn - blazes with flame, bloodied greataxe held high.

The connection loosens, and Rakha does stagger a little with its release as she did not at its impact. The imagery has her dizzy. It was nothing like the slime of the nautiloid or the greenery-peace of the grove, but something very different - an unending wasteland of rock and fire, the scent of brimstone in the man's lungs, liquid flame roaring in rivers along a canyon bloodstained with unending war.

There was so much blood, demon blood, devil blood... the beast shivers in her mind, eager, hungrily lapping up the imagery gleaned from the man's memories.

"Hells' great fires," the man curses, shaking his head rapidly, trying to clear it. "You were on the ship..."

Rakha ignores the words; her eyes have lost focus and her fists are clenched at her sides. Something in her wants-- needs-- to see more of that war, that devastation that lurks inside him.

Peer further into his mind.

Narrator: You see the fiend again and ignite with Wyll's rancor. She is an infernal wardevil, a threat to the living - evil incarnate.

The facts click into place one by one in her head, absorbed from the connection, from his expression. Wyll. The Blade of Frontiers. A man who fought in that place - Avernus. The place the nautiloid traveled through. He pursued that woman. There was so much blood...

"Shit," Wyll hisses. "You saw her. Advocatus diaboli." The words mean nothing to Rakha, but for once he doesn't seem to expect them to. "Her name is Karlach," he goes on grimly. "An archdevil's soldier I swore on my good eye to kill. I tracked her through the Hells to the mind flayer ship. But the damned illithids infected me before I could end her." His jaw sets in a way that seems almost familiar to Rakha. "She's out there now, preying on the innocent. I don't kill her, she'll leave behind nothing but a trail of corpses."

The blood pulse in Rakha's head starts to thump excitedly at this image - perhaps at the idea of the devil's death, or perhaps simply at the idea of so many dead in her wake. She draws a hoarse breath. The man can live, for now; he carries a tadpole and might be of use. His target though... she feels infused with the man's own rage as well as her own, the desire to see the woman die melding with her own bloodlust.

"Let's join forces," she growls. "I'll help you cast this devil back into the hells."

Behind her she hears the githyanki release a soft chk of disapproval. This is distraction, in Lae'zel's eyes, a side diversion away from the creche that they have no time for. Rakha ignores her. They will find Zorru, and they will find the creche. But they will also find this woman, and she will die.

Wyll looks at her steadily, trying to gauge her fitness as a companion and what lies behind this offer of help. Perhaps he sees value in her hunger for death. Perhaps he simply does not recognize it. But whatever his thoughts, he nods, and a flicker of the smile flashes onto his face again.

"I like how you think."