#which is a true masterpiece

[sugahyeon]

Random Tazercraft appreciation post bc even tho i never watched their pov, you can still feel the life they put into the server

From what i know, they organized most of Festa Junina which was an AWESOME event, with tons of cultural representation and was so fun, for the brazilians and the others. It introduced everyone to a part of Brazil's culture and it was so wholesome and well done?? (+The area was really pretty)

The esconde esconde??? Which some players still go to play at random times bc it's just so fun?? The area is awesome, the eggs got to decorate their statues (which is super cute) for some of them and they decorated the rest according to each eggs' tastes. The main event was SO much fun and they even added a second mini-game with the ''hot-potato'' (even more fun, can you believe that?)

The second area??? For the murder mystery?? It looks so good?? The details are INSANE, they're adding lore to each houses, loads of decorations/secret paths/hidden rooms and we already know this is gonna be such a good event! Their ideas for the roles, having around a dozens so that everyone gets to have one... I legit can't wait to see it!

And you can to that the train (which is so cool) and all the randoms lore discoveries

Like, the clip of them getting into the nether lived in my mind rent free for so long bc it's just so funny?? And they keep on doing that type of stuff

Idk, they just bring so much life to the server and you can feel it through any pov you could watch

[talesfromthebandgeekmafia]

True Detective season 1 is an achievement of storytelling and the medium of television. I can’t even praise it by wishing to see it for the first time again because it’s just as enjoyable on the third watch as it is on the first if not more.

[lovecanbesostrange]

"This is a bad movie, bad show, bad book etc etc." Then you check and the thing is actually fine. Not great or earthshattering, but fine. The word you're looking for is mediocre. And we need mediocre art, lots of it. That is where you'll find the true human experience.

[aeolianblues]

Same, Justin, same

[numetaljackdog]

🎧…?

lol. if i'm completely honest with everyone here i could easily just put the entire song i fucking love the lyrics to this one. ah why not

[bullseyelover]

this is how i spend my time

[britneyshakespeare]

should i start reading russian avant-garde theater

[stormy-nights-are-best]

^^^ Preach

Is this kind of friendship even allowed?

[ozzgin]

Yan!Monster who is a famous author of human fiction. If a monster has a human kink, they’ve heard of him. They’ve read his books.

“The human’s husband”

“The human from the office”

“Human Farm”

“Kidnapping a human”

These are just some examples of his written debauchery. One detail, however, bothers him terribly: he doesn’t actually know much about humans. In fact, he’s never seen one with his own eyes. Hard to believe given the intricate details penned in each of his masterpieces, but it’s a cold, shameful truth.

Now, he’s not entirely to blame. Humans are a rare sight. So rare, in fact, most are considered an urban legend. Which is why his readers don’t mind the potential inaccuracies. A true master of the arts, however, strives for perfection. That’s what he always tells himself, that's his never-ending source of anguish.

Imagine his surprise when, on his most recent hiking trip, he stumbles upon the creature. You. A glitch in the matrix? An error in the grand code? You ask yourself the same question, staring wide-eyed at the enormous, unholy beast before you.

This is the chance of a lifetime. One he might never encounter again. His heart threatens to burst out his chest, pumping with anxiety, anticipation, eagerness. The potential! The research possibilities! No other monster could ever come close to his accurate depictions of a human’s body. Not only that, but unlike everyone else having to rely on printed dreams, he’d have access to the real deal. No more lustful scribbles in the middle of the night. He could have you.

All that’s left is to bring you to his home.

[More monsters]

[ventique18]

Dragon couple 🐉🌸♀️

When their first son was born, Yuu unfortunately resigned to her fate that she would be the mother of children named Malware, Malaria, and Malignant Cancer.

Her husband Malleus had named their firstborn Malleus. Which was not a terrible idea given the boy was his heir and inheriting his name could be symbolic, but she was certain there were not too many words starting with 'Mal' that could pass off as a name. So imagine her surprise when he had suggested that their second child, a lovely girl, be named Agatha.

"You're not insane after all. I was going to rethink our marriage if you tried to name our baby Malnutrition, or something." Her love for him had grown a tad fiercer, if that was at all possible.

When they welcomed their third child to the world, he had named him 'Lilia' and Yuu immediately caught up to his intentions.

"You realized we couldn't possibly give a good name that starts with 'Mal' everytime, so you decided to spell it out chronologically instead? Malleus, Agatha, and Lilia..."

"Oh, but my plan isn't quite as shallow as that." He commented with an eager smile, "We need five more children."

"Five more-- eight children in total?! Are you planning to build an entire Spelldrive team complete with a coach?"

"Perhaps." He replied, his grin both mischievous and secretive.

What ever could this man be planning? Some kind of ancient ritual that required eight of his own flesh and blood? World domination? Of course he wouldn't do something as terrible as that, but why eight in particular?

Seasons passed, years crawled on, yet their love for each other remained just as strong. True to his words, they managed to conceive their eight child after a few decades. They had the most delightful names, you see:

Malleus, Agatha-- the first two letters of her name stood for the element symbol of Silver, Lilia, Laverne, Eleanor, Yuuki, Ubek (he ran out of ideas), and Ulficia. They were his greatest masterpiece, the father would brag, and so he named them after an actual masterpiece that happened to exist before they did. Since their names were variations of the people closest to him, textbooks would then write him down as a king full of love and respect for those who had given his life meaning and became his strength.

... Or so the writeup could have been that respectable, if only he did not frown while reviewing such descriptions of him and personally wrote an edit request to the publishers. For they had omitted a crucial detail from their story:

That the first letters of their children's names, when arranged, spelled 'MALLEYUU.' Their names being variations of the people he care about were merely secondary. His main purpose was to immortalize in books his undying love for his wife, Yuu.

Later on, some would call him the Mad King; not because he was insane or cruel, but because they had never seen a ruler as madly in love with his spouse as he was with his wife. Their love story would then become a classic literary blueprint for centuries to come.

[not-terezi-pyrope]

The problem with "I could do [X popular modern art piece]" being responded to with "then go ahead and do it!" is that I think the point that a lot of people are making is not so much "this artwork has no value" but rather "modern popular art is a heavily gatekept industry that you cannot enter into without requisite pre-existing social cachet".

So even if someone is technically/artistically able to create something on the level of a gallery piece (and, to be honest, I think substantially more people have that ability than anyone would be likely to admit) they do not exist in an environment where they have the financial freedom or recognition for that to be possible or worthwhile.

I assure you that there are millions of people who absolutely could and would want to make Pollock style abstract paintings or giant time-consuming sculptures made with garbage or whatever, but they're currently stuck in a low wage job and if they quit in order to make their masterpiece then nobody would bat an eye and they would go broke because they wouldn't have the sociocultural weight to impart that special numinous reverence that "high art" is granted, and which makes it financially viable as a thing to spend your time doing.

It is also true that a lot of people who have that cachet are able to spend their time making pretty much whatever, and will still be able to support themselves even if the art itself is fairly mediocre outside of the time dedicated to its creation.

Anyway, I feel that people are perfectly valid in feeling a sense of vague resentment at that when they visit galleries holding paint/canvas combinations that sell for more than they will earn in several years. I mean it speaks to what society is implying about their worth as a person. I don't think that it's as much about arrogance and entitlement as people like to pretend, because a lot of that comes from buying into the mystique of the Worthy Artist anyway.

[earthtooz]

dr. ratio yearning for gn!reader is so enthralling to me | or, in which dr. ratio carves a statue of you because the feelings he harbours might eat him alive.

the repetitive click of chisel hitting stone reverberates around the confines of dr. ratio's office.

it sounds like the dextrous hands of a professional sculptor are at work, diligently carving their next masterpiece. his love and passion for sculpting has been something he's bred and perfected now, every hit on the slab precise and purposeful. he has mastered the dimensions of the human body, creating pieces with astounding similarity to their living counterpiece, as if he had taken the muse themself and covered them in plaster, never to move again.

sat on a small box and hunched over, faint drops of sweat creep down his skin from his hard work as he carves something resembling a face. 

your face. 

is it strange? perhaps, but what is he to do when you've infected his mind like a parasite? what is he to do when you've then clung to his heart and devoured it too before sitting in the crevices of his ribs, refusing to leave? 

these reverent thoughts of his, how else is he to cope with the overwhelming feeling of you other than by honouring it? 

finally, when the curvature of your neck is complete, creating a complete bust from the slope of the forehead to the lines of your jaw, he sighs. admires his hard work for a moment before the onslaught of moral questions begins- if you had seen this, how would you react? what would you say? would you be disturbed by the devotion he has kept so secretly to himself, locked under heavy chains and kept under wraps for the sake of saving face?

it's too much, too loud, his mind hasn't been this hectic since the time he was writing fifteen articles for academic journals at the same time. the only thing he knows is that he wants you, so much so that it drove him to the point of carving a statue for you from his precious, very expensive materials.

with another heavy breath through his nose, ratio hesitates as a hand comes up to cup 'your' jaw, the feeling almost like a cooling balm against his flustered skin. 'you're' unmoving underneath his touch, 'you're' hardly even in 'your' true self, and you still have him weak in the knees, touch faltering as he detaches himself from 'you'. 

he dares not lean in close, for how grave of a stain that would be on your name.

a heavy, shaky breath shudders through him as he looks into your closed eyes and neutral face. tomorrow, he’ll face you- the real, living version that he yearns to cherish and hold, unlike the mere replica before him now, and you will be none the wiser of this little project of his. tomorrow, he will ask you about the progress of your research, and you’ll answer with a passionate ramble, and he will be none the wiser, too blissfully immersed in your presence and liveliness to listen. 

tomorrow, and every day after that, he will continue to be a fool at your feet, and you will be none the wiser of the hold you have over this genius scholar.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[soov]

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the man felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real (work inspired by mr. queen!)

2024 © SOOV

[srslyblvck]

── secret santa,, james potter [part two]

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

synopsis: in which you become the secret santa of none other than james potter

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

part one!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE GIFT EXCHANGE UNFOLDED in a whirlwind of laughter and surprise. Sirius, true to form, had been uncharacteristically secretive in the days leading up to the event. That alone had set off alarms, and when he strolled into the common room pushing a large object covered in a velvet cloth on a rickety old stroller, you and Marlene exchanged knowing looks.

“Any guesses?” Marlene whispered, elbowing you as Sirius dramatically cleared his throat.

“Do we even need to guess?” you muttered back, stifling a laugh.

Sirius clapped his hands together, commanding everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and Moony,” he said, smirking at Remus, “I present to you the pièce de résistance, the magnum opus, the most legendary Secret Santa gift in Hogwarts history!”

Remus raised an eyebrow, looking amused but wary. “I don’t know if I should be terrified or flattered.”

Sirius ignored him and grabbed the edge of the cloth. “I told them to make it bigger,” he lamented dramatically. “But they just didn’t have the time. Ah, well. Behold!”

With a flourish, he whipped the cloth away, revealing a giant chocolate wolf, standing on all fours and towering at least an inch taller than Sirius himself. The room erupted into cheers and laughter, but you and Marlene were nearly in tears, clutching each other as you tried to contain your giggles.

“Merlin’s beard,” Remus muttered, stepping closer to inspect the monstrosity. “This is... something.”

“It’s everything,” Sirius corrected, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Hand-crafted by the finest chocolatiers in Hogsmeade. The wingspan of those ears alone! Tell me it’s not perfection.”

Remus shook his head, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously thoughtful, you mean,” Sirius replied, puffing out his chest.

The rest of the gifts followed in quick succession. Peter received a self-refilling candy jar from Dorcas, and Marlene was gifted a set of enchanted Quidditch gloves from Lily that could warm themselves in the cold. When it was your turn, Lily handed you a neatly wrapped box. Inside was a gorgeous hardcover book on advanced defensive spells, its gilded pages shimmering in the firelight.

“Lily, this is amazing,” you said, touched by the thoughtfulness of her gift.

“Well, I had some help,” Lily admitted with a smile, nodding toward James. “He said you mentioned wanting it.”

Your stomach fluttered, and you glanced over at James, who was currently distracted by Sirius poking the chocolate wolf.

After all the gifts had been opened and the wrapping paper lay scattered across the floor like confetti, someone suggested revealing the Secret Santas. Sirius, naturally, couldn’t wait to take credit for his masterpiece, and one by one, everyone admitted who they had been paired with. When it came to James, he stood and spun in place, scanning the room dramatically.

“It was you,” he declared, pointing directly at you.

The room went quiet as everyone turned to look at you, and your cheeks burned under the sudden attention. “Alright, alright,” you said, holding up your hands in surrender. “It was me.”

Before you could say anything else, James let out a whoop and launched himself across the room. You barely had time to brace yourself as he wrapped his arms around you in an exuberant hug, lifting you slightly off the ground.

“Thank you!” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he set you down. “This is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I’ve got the best Secret Santa ever.”

You laughed nervously, your face aflame. “It’s just a notebook and a pin, James. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it?” he repeated, looking scandalized. “You’ve clearly never received socks from Sirius.”

“Oi!” Sirius interjected, but James waved him off, still beaming at you.

In the days that followed, you noticed James with the notebook everywhere. He scribbled in it during class, carried it tucked under his arm in the corridors, and even brought it to breakfast. As for the pin, he flaunted it proudly, even showing it off to Professor McGonagall one morning.

��Very nice, Potter,” McGonagall said, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “But I suggest you focus more on your Transfiguration essay and less on your accessories.”

James nodded solemnly but winked at you as soon as McGonagall’s back was turned.

One evening, the common room was quieter than usual, the buzz of the day fading into the crackle of the fire and the occasional rustle of pages turning. You were curled up in your favorite armchair, a book resting in your lap, utterly lost in its pages. It was one of those rare moments of peace at Hogwarts, and you relished it, unaware of the pair of hazel eyes watching you from across the room.

James had been sitting there for some time, the notebook in hand, pretending to work on what looked like Quidditch plays. In reality, he’d been sketching you. His quill moved quickly, capturing the way your hair caught the firelight, the slight furrow in your brow as you read, and the way your lips curved ever so slightly, as though you were on the edge of a smile.

He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to draw you. Maybe it was the way you seemed to disappear into your own little world when you read, or maybe it was how your presence seemed to anchor the chaotic energy of the common room. Whatever it was, James found himself unable to look away.

Finally, when he was satisfied with the sketch, he cleared his throat softly. “Hey,” he said, his voice low so as not to startle you.

You looked up, blinking as though surfacing from a dream. “Oh, hi,” you said, setting your book down. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” he replied with a teasing grin. He held out the notebook. “I’ve been working on something. Want to see?”

You took the notebook hesitantly, your brows furrowing in curiosity. As you turned it toward you, your breath caught.

On the page was a drawing of you, so lifelike it felt like looking into a mirror—or maybe something better. The firelight he’d captured gave the sketch a warm glow, and every detail was perfect, from the tilt of your head to the way your fingers rested lightly on the pages of your book.

“James…” you murmured, tracing the edges of the drawing with your fingertips. “This is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the real thing,” he said casually, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, but you couldn’t stop the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”

“True,” James said, “But at least now I’ve got a proper muse.”

James Potter was, without a doubt, impossible. But as you glanced up and caught him watching you again, you realized there was something about that impossibility that you didn’t mind one bit.

[hoe4hotchner]

Hey can you do more of Aaron x non bau rich fem!reader. Like maybe with jack

ANON!!!! I’m just out here living my rich stepmom life now, okay? Jack is so cute!!!! I swear I’m weak for domestic Hotch | WC: 423

Inside the living room, you sat on the floor, surrounded by colorful art supplies, while Jack busily worked on his latest school project. The grand space, often reserved for elegant soirées and refined gatherings, had been transformed into a cozy art studio for the day, with large sheets of paper spread out, and markers and paint scattered everywhere.

Jack, his little face scrunched in concentration, held up his creation for you to see. “What do you think?” he asked eagerly, showing off a drawing of what appeared to be a dragon, flying over a castle that looked suspiciously like your home.

You smiled warmly, leaning closer to inspect the details. “It’s perfect, Jack! I love how fierce the dragon looks. You’re getting really good at this. I'm sure your teacher will be impressed with your skills and give you a gold star for the fairy tale topic!” you praised, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately.

Jack beamed at your words. “I think Dad’s going to like it, too,” he said, glancing toward the doorway where Hotch had been watching the two of you quietly, his expression soft.

Aaron’s voice cut through the gentle ambiance. “I’m sure I will,” he said, walking into the room and joining you on the floor. His suit jacket was off, and his tie loosened for the first time all day, but he looked relaxed.

“Dad, look! I made the dragon like the one from the book you read to me last night,” Jack explained, already diving into another story about his creation.

You exchanged a fond look with Aaron, who smiled at the scene. This — these simple moments — they were everything to him. “I think we have a true artist on our hands,” Aaron said, his hand gently resting on your shoulder as he sat down beside you, his eyes were full of affection for the both of you.

You grinned, pulling Jack into a little side hug. “I’d say so. I think we'll need more wall space for all of his masterpieces though,” you teased, already scouting which painting you'd have to take down. It made Jack giggle.

Aaron chuckled softly too, his arm slipping around your waist as he looked between the two people he cared for most. It wasn’t the opulence of the mansion or the high-profile life that mattered to him — it was the warmth of the family you had created, the quiet joy of being together, and the love that effortlessly filled the room every time you were together.

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Five Famous Book Monsters Drawn: EXACTLY AS DESCRIBED BY AUTHORS!

Many movie adaptations of famous novels change the character and creature designs, some very drastically. Here are five famous monsters or villains that I've rendered with great care toward their original descriptions in their first books. Some aren't what you might expect from the movie versions! Enjoy!

#1- The Exorcist

The Exorcist by Ira Levin features a demon named Pazuzu. In the book, we see a few glimpses of a wicked face and a horribly injured Linda Blair, but in the original novel, Pazuzu is described as a skeletal ghost with a snakelike spinal column that ends in a devil tail. His hands float separately, and his many horns are topped by a hat with a pigeon feather, much like the biblical description of the demon.

#2- Jaws

Jaws by Peter Benchley was much more of a sci-fi novel than the movie based on it. In the original story, the shark had a human-like mind and arms and legs. It was well armed and killed not with its teeth, but its two AK-47s. It is only defeated when the sheriff ties its loose shoelaces together.

#3- The Lord of the Rings

Sauron is described by J.J.R. Tolkien not as the fiery eyeball or armored mammoth seen in Peter Jackson's movies, but rather as a beautiful long haired man in a white robe with chubby cheeks and enormous, pendulous bosoms. Over 30 pages are spent describing the Mounds of Doom, or in Elvish "Orodroobies" and in Sindarin, "Amon Amammaries."

#4- Frankenstein

Mary Shelly's masterpiece is considered the dawn of sci-fi and horror alike, but it's iconic monster looked nothing like Boris Karloff in the text. Rather it was a tentacled half-octopus, half-man, half-dragon that caused madness in anyone who saw it emerge from its home, the lost island of R'lyeh. Note that the name "Frankenstein" is not that of the monster itself, but is the closest a human can come to pronouncing its true name, as recorded by Igor Alhazrad.

#5- The Lorax

It's hard to guess what Roald Dahl pictured just from the descriptions in his novel, but the title monster from his 15-Volume Norwegian language epic "The Lorax" is nothing like you may have seen in the popular CGI erotic film. In the novel, it has orange hair and big eyebrows but is more like a spectral demon with crystal eyes and jagged fangs that bounds through the Norwegian desert on its two massive feet, each of which has one claw. A similar fate met Agent Smith from his novel "The Matrix" who was a big green robot in the book, but is clearly a Hugo Weaving in the movies.