#alanor

[scrapman-silva-and-alanor]

50 posts!

Ohoho! The trio of terror has gotten it's 50 post notification! As a treat for those who follow me for some reason, I'll be giving y'all a choice in what I do!

As always, I'll just tag this is a pale king fork thought. Oh, and allow you guys to make your choices today.

[kaybeedaydreams]

Old artwork of an even older OC being touched up. Alanor. For the archives one again

[ambrial-blog]

Daddy Dearest

Blitzo was diagnosed with Leukemia as a child. Blitzo's childhood was a living nightmare. Blitzo was forced into hiding his symptoms. Once the money well ran dry, Cash Buckzo was finding it harder to extort his son. He didn't want Paimon to think he had a defective sperm-bank. the only ones who appeared to care at the time was Barbie-Wire who had to watch as her brother was subjected to inhuman procedures. and his mother who was fairing sickly: an unknown cause that Barbie speculated was geared to control her brother more. Cash had been poisoning his wife with arsenic. Between Tilla and Blitzo: things began to look grim. The one day, while visiting the shadowlands. He meets Fizzorolli. they become fast friends and are nearly inseparable. While Fizz's father. "The terrifyingly Star of Sheng guar la. "The great Milengo. Fitted no only Blitzo's medical bills, but Tilla's as well. The insidious Ringleader is instantly on edge. While he himself is enraptured by Fizzorolli. he begins scheming. noticing how close both he and Fizz are becoming. Meanwhile Milengo contemplates letting his son go, and leaving him in Cash's care. He himself had become entangled. He fins himself dotting on the tiny harlequin boy, smitten by his harlequin-esque features. A slow disdain crawls into the shadow-walker. He begins to watch the Ringleader closely, while keeping an eye on his son's best friend. He finally agree letting his son travel back to Loo-Loo land. Knowing he could find him at any time. he gifts Blitzo with a little Harlequin horse puppet: Red and green with a black star above his eye. Blitzo's cancer goes into remission when he turns fifteen. Everyone is happy and celebrating. Barbie-Wire hugs her brother and smiles up at Fizzorolli. The Jester has an arm wrapped around both twins as Tilla takes a picture.

Two years later Tragedy Strikes. A freak accident occurs leaving Fizzorolli as a quadriplegic. Fizz is in pain, but Blitzo is by his side having saved up enough money to buy Fizzorolli mechanical arms and legs. Blitzo never leaves Fizz's side. often sleeping by his bedside. Blitzo was there every step of the way.

While a mysterious fire breaks out. devastating Loo-Loo land and destroying Cash's legacy. The Ringleader become unstable. lashing out at wife, Son and daughter.

One night before Fizz's surgery, as Fizz lay asleep. Cash stumbles in drunk and yelling at his boy. Fizz's eyes shoot open as Blitzo is yanked out from the chair and thrown onto the floor. Cash is furious, unclasping his whip from his hip. "Blitzo! Watch out!" Fizz cries. horrified as he helplessly watches his best friend being whipped and beaten before his eyes. the strike of the whip cut deeply, leaving shallow lacerations across his back. Blitzo is beaten so badly, that the shrill screams from Fizzorolli has the orderlies running.

Five orderlies all together appear near the edge of the door. Their lead a tall male. with a glistening ebony horn jutting out the middle of his forehead grumbles under his breath. His kaleidoscope skin reflected in the dim glow. Large almond shaped eyes widened in horror. The black and white checkered marbled flooring was smattered with fresh blood.

A man was standing over his son. his body quivering with barely kempt anger. Another demon orderly broke through and stopped dead in his tracks. Ivory white hair glistened in the dim lighting. midnight blue skin shimmered under the grainy glow of the hospital light. The pair of peculiar demons in white uniforms rush in while three other wrestled the Ring-master down. The Lead, knelt down. Alanor placed his finger on Blitzo's neck trying to locate a pulse. While Abyss began cutting the remains of a tattered shirt. Before joining his collogue checking to see if Blitzo was still breathing.

He was but barely.

Abyss's ears tingled upon hearing the ragged, shallow breathing. of the teenager. Blitzo's skin had been flayed open with the spiked nine tails. "Get him out of here!" Alanor snarls. his eyes sharpening. He could barely look at the Ring leader who was being man handled out the door. A wet gurgling sound tingles Abyss's ears drawing him back to the matter at hand. "Grab the Gurney we need one in hear stat, he needs to be rushed to the E.R. immediately!" Abyss snaps. his hands stained with Blitzo's blood. A child's blood. The Abysnal had to keep his mind clear if they were going to save the imp. "Blitzo, Blitzo, answer me!" Fizzorolli cries. Tears stream down his face. his friend's name becomes a mantra in his head.

Zarr, Jaxx and Stag throw Cash out into the empty corridor. Jaxx darts off to find an empty gurney. as Zarr and Jaxx stand guard. time was of the essence. and the wraith orderly stood on pins and needles. he along with Jaxx had sold their souls to a serpent overlord. Meanwhile back inside, Abyss turns Blitzo over onto his side. the imp groans in pain. Fizzorolli could see the anguish in Blitzo's eyes as the boy grimaces trying his best to breathe with four broken ribs. "Shh, its going to be okay" Abyss says trying to soothe both Fizzorolli and Blitzo's fears. I will call your parents. "Call my father Milengo" "Rest assured we will take good care of him" "listen to me asshole! call my father! tell him that Fizzorolli is in critical condition and that the Ring Master has shown his true colors. "Are you listening to me!" Fizzorolli growls wiggling in his bed. "We'll patch him up and bring him back here, and yes- then we call your father and let him know of your condition. I promise you, that you two won't be separated. And then Abyss here will call Cam and try and get ahold of Tilla and Barbie. "Shh, your both safe here under our care. Fizzorolli watches as the orderlies cart Blitzo off on the gurney. "But- But- he used up all his income sources on me" "He has no way of fitting the bill"

[dkniade]

I’ve realized, Genshin is less of a game or story to me and more of a storytelling exercise and a linguistic plaything with literary allusions on the side

I think figuring out poetic devices and literary allusions in titles is one of the most fun things to do

A plaything…

[akittenwrites]

Queen of Ice and Prince of Fire [3]

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Lady Y/N Stark of Winterfell has declared herself Queen in the North. That means war, against King Viserys, and also against Prince Daemon. But the Rogue Prince doesn't want to fight her.

Type: multichapter series

Chapter: three

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 3811

Warnings: swearing, smut.

Part one.

Part two.

Daemon rested his back on the wooden chair, his eyes roaming over Y/N's body. Now that they were inside, sitting face to face, he allowed himself to enjoy her. He recognized the silk of her dress. It matched her eyes, just as he had thought it would when he acquired it. But it wasn't her fine dress that had his attention right now.

Her breasts were pushed up by the tight bustier, and he decided that was where he would settle his eyes while she thought of what to say. They had been silent for a few minutes now, only illuminated by the flames of the substantial fireplace next to them. Surprisingly, even he, a man not used to the cold, thought there was no need for such a large fire. The castle was incredibly warm, which he had noticed as soon as they had entered it.

After spending what felt like not enough time embracing each other in the Godswood, Y/N had pulled away, saying the words that needed to be said but neither wished to hear.

"We have important matters to discuss. Follow me."

She had walked a step back then, unfastening his dark cloak and letting it fall to the ground, revealing his black doublet, decorated with small silver chains. He wasn't wearing armor, not even chainmail underneath. He hadn't left his sword behind, though. Dark Sister was always with him.

"You look like you're here to assassinate me in that cloak," she explained, playing with a strand of his hair. Then she took his hand in hers to lead him out of the Godswood, the bright eyes of the direwolves no longer visible in the darkness of the woods.

"Maybe I am," he answered, making her chuckle.

"I would love to see you try," she responded, turning her head to smile at him. She seemed incredibly sure he posed no danger to her considering the message she had sent his brother a few days ago, the fact that he was armed and she wasn't, and also the fact that it was him she was dealing with. It was idiotic and naive, and it didn't matter if he was actually a danger to her or not. Not even he knew the answer to that question.

They had barely walked for a few minutes before Y/N let his hand go and one of the tall grey buildings of the castle became visible. They approached the enormous guarded double doors —those guards hadn't been there when Daemon had sneaked in— when Y/N stopped in her tracks and addressed one of the guards.

"Ser Alanor," she called, the man immediately turning to look at her. She waited a few seconds until Daemon was by her side. "Prince Daemon is our guest. Make sure the men are aware of it."

The man bowed his head.

"As my Queen commands."

Once that was settled —and Daemon leaned into her ear to whisper how the commander of her guard had looked at her too lasciviously, earning himself an eye-roll— they entered the building and walked through what appeared to be the Great Hall, with large tables and dozens of seats. Maids were setting up candles while the smell of cooked meat was in the air. Dinner, approximately 200 people, he counted. Around twenty seats at the high table, the largest made of carved stone. That was Y/N's spot, no doubt. And there was only one reason she was having such large dinners: guests. Bannermen. Boltons, Mormonts, Umbers, Glovers?

While Daemon observed everything carefully, the doors, the windows, the servants, and the watchmen, Y/N paid no mind with her head held high, ignoring the curious looks the servants were sending their way. They had surely been warned about his arrival, yet a Targaryen hadn't been in Winterfell for many years. Here the men and women had dark hair, with the occasional auburn or dark blonde. He had no way of not standing out with his long silver hair and his violet eyes. To these people, he probably looked out of this world, more god than man. Which is exactly what he thought he was.

Just as they were walking by, Y/N caught a young woman's arm.

"Ilana," she said, making her stop and turn around. She started to curtsy and greet them but Y/N interrupted her, raising her palm in the air to shut her up. "Prince Daemon and I will dine privately in my solar tonight, I will call when we are ready. Make sure there is no wine shortage in the Great Hall, and the bards only play joyful songs. Find Lord Karstark and the rest of the members of my small council and inform them Prince Daemon has come in peace and is our guest, with whom I will negotiate tonight."

Y/N made a small pause while Ilana nodded.

"Also, make sure the maids prepare our guest's chambers in the Great Keep. Use plenty of fur for the bed, he's not used to this kind of weather," she said in the end, before continuing on her way.

Considering she called him her guest, Y/N wasn't being very polite, forcing him to act like a lost puppy following her around. If only she would slow her pace...

This reminded him too much of how he used to follow her around in the Red Keep too, trying to keep up with her as she went from her chambers to the library and from the library to the courtyard and then back to the library again, with the exception he wasn't familiar with Winterfell and its people.

He wasn't sure if she was just being her usual self or if this was another subtle display of power, as the direwolves had been.

Soon, his thoughts quieted down as they were walking through winding dark corridors, with barely a few torches lighting the way. As his eyes adjusted he realized he didn't recognize this part of the castle. She slowed down her pace and he was finally walking by her side. He saw she had her hands wrung together, as she often did back in King's Landing when she wanted to take his hand but couldn't because they were in public.

He didn't know what was stopping her now. War? Formality? Honor? She may have been calling herself Queen, yet she struggled to act like one. She wasn't even twenty-five summers old yet.

"What do you northerners have against candles?" he whispered, figuring nobody was around to hear anyway. "Did you spend all your gold on weaponry? Maybe on armor? Should we donate candles to Winterfell?"

"We have more than enough gold, thank you for caring," she snapped, giving him a dirty look. "I apologize my castle is too dark for your liking, Prince Daemon. The Red Keep was too bright for mine."

He smiled to himself, remembering she used to blow out most of the candles her handmaidens lit in her chambers in the Red Keep. She preferred the cold and the darkness. Like a wolf.

They finally arrived at a wooden double door with two men standing guard outside. One of them bowed his head and opened the door for her, waiting for them to make their way inside before closing it, giving them privacy.

And that was where they were now. Sitting on the oversized wooden chairs in front of the fireplace, to his right a desk with lots of scrolls and some books, forgotten, and behind her a door that probably connected this solar to her private chambers.

The silence was long but not uncomfortable. There was a lot to think about before talking.

Finally, Y/N spoke, her voice cutting through the silence.

"Why are you here, Daemon?"

The flames barely illuminated their faces, the corners of the room submerged in darkness. Y/N's eyes were fixated on him.

"Because I wished to fuck you like the old times, so I figured I should visit," he responded nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side. "Wait, there was something else." He paused, pretending to think before his eyes scrutinized her, searing. The playfulness was gone from his voice now. "Maybe it is because you are calling yourself Queen of this barren piece of land and rebelling against my brother, your King. Unless there is some other crime you committed I should be aware of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The Lords of the North named me their Queen. Don't act as if I take pleasure in any of this. Are you here to kill me, then?"

"No, but I will be," he answered honestly. "My brother can be very forgiving. That's what makes him a bad king, but it's also why you are still alive and will live the rest of your life in peace if you forget about this. Call off your bannermen. Burn your crown, wherever it is. Pretend this never happened and swear your loyalty to King Viserys again."

"I don't think you understand what's at stake, Daemon," she bit out.

"No, you don't understand what's at stake!" His hands gripped his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white. "Why war, Y/N? You will die!"

The intensity of his gaze burned her, but she stood her ground. She was a Stark, and Starks did not cower.

"I will die anyway if I'm dragged into another one of your royal conflicts." She gripped her chair as well, leaning forward with the same rage burning in her chest.

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, exasperated. "The realm has been in peace for decades!"

She stood up suddenly, agitated, and walked towards the fireplace, the heat radiating from it making her blush.

They both needed a pause to cool off their tempers.

"What about Viserys' succession? I hear the lords are going restless as he fathers no boys. And your reputation doesn't help you being his heir," she hissed.

"Is this what this is about?" he sneered. "You fear being dragged to war when my brother dies because the realm won't accept me as their King?"

"That's part of it," she admitted, turning to look at him, her grey eyes cold as they fixed on his. A moment passed before he stood up as well, standing behind her as she stared into the fire.

"There will only be war if you force it, Y/N, and you will die along with your people, your wolves, your family..."

Even as he threatened her, he took her hair in his hands with great care. Longer than he remembered it, but just as wild. She never bothered braiding it.

"You underestimate me," she said, lowering her voice. There was no need to yell anymore. As they stood by the fire, the conversation felt intimate. Even if the matter of discussion was unpleasant.

"We have dragons," he answered, curling a strand of her hair around his finger and letting it slip away. "The blood of Old Valyria runs through our veins. How do you think we became your kings in the first place?"

His hands wandered to her waist, where they settled, as he leaned forward and rested his chin on her shoulder, looking into the fire as well.

"We are dragonlords. Fire will consume a regular man, but not us. Your ancestor bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror. Your father swore an oath to my brother. Starks aren't known for being oathbreakers."

"Strangers in a strange land is what you are," she mused. "My House can be traced back eight thousand years, to the First Men. We have always been here. This is our land."

She could feel Daemon's grip around her waist loosening, and she placed his hands on top of his, silently asking him not to leave her.

"But you're right, we're not oathbreakers, even if Torrhen Stark made a mistake, we've upheld our vows all these years," she continued. "The problem is... rules change when winter comes. In winter, we must protect each other. And that mandate is above anything else. Even our loyalty to the Iron Throne. It is not power I wish for, it is to be excluded from southern conflicts. And that is not possible if I'm Lady of Winterfell."

She turned around, cupping his face in her hands.

"My dragon," she whispered, tears in her eyes, maybe caused by the intense heat of the fireplace, maybe because she did not wish for this to happen. "I cannot turn my back on my people. Winter is coming. And war is coming in the South, I know it. We cannot be part of it."

"You don't know that," he whispered back, clutching her wrists and pushing her away, refusing her touch. "You would force me to kill you because your lords wish for their independence. They are using you, filling your mind with baseless fear."

"Winter is coming and it is not a lie," she stated, knowing he was aware of it. "Only a fool would not fear winter. Or a son of summer, who has only known the sun and its warmth, and winters so short they are barely cold autumns. This is real winter we are facing."

She broke free from his grip and moved closer to him, their chests almost touching as she looked up at him.

"If I must die, I apologize if it has to be by your hand," she said. "I will not stand down, Daemon. We do not have to fight your wars."

"You say you are trying to avoid war yet you're dooming all your people to die by dragonfire because you refuse to back away from one."

"Haven't you heard? Some Northerners have to die when winter comes, or all of us do."

"I have read about the frozen castles, the men riding direwolves north of The Wall, the food that runs out. It seems rather fantastical."

"So do dragons, yet here you are."

"Yet here I am," he agreed. "I am not a patient man, Y/N. If this is your answer, I will take it to my brother, and I will come back with more dragons to kill you and the rest of the traitors that follow your lead."

"If this is yours, I will wait for you with our army. You might be a dragon, but you forget I am a wolf. My blood runs as thick as yours, Daemon," she defied. "We do not belong as part of the Seven Kingdoms. We never did. We do not share their customs, blood, or gods."

He stared at her, the same way he often did to men when he wanted them to submit, but she did not waver. Wolf's blood.

"Do the direwolves obey you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"They do not," she answered simply. "They cannot be tamed. But they are powerful beasts and they will fight by our side."

"Can the wolves fly? Can they spit fire? Because even with a thousand wolves you cannot hope to fight our dragons."

She smiled sadly, walking towards one of the corners of the room, where a jug of wine and two cups waited on a table.

"Of course we can." She spoke as she served both cups and brought one to Daemon. He accepted it, drinking without taking his eyes off her. "We've studied the Dornish. Dragons can die. And they will."

"Do not get cocky, Y/N," he said, brows furrowed. "It is not wise."

"Riding dragons up north in winter is not wise, yet is it what you promise me. Do not bring them here. They do not belong."

"Dragons can resist low temperatures," he contested.

"Can you?" she asked, an eyebrow raised, as she sipped her wine.

"Are you daring me to bring war to your doors? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I am asking you to reconsider. You can come here with ten dragons and thirty thousand men for all I care," she stated. "You would be out of your element. You would die. We would kill some of you, you would kill some of us, and then winter would kill us all."

"Treason is not forgivable, Y/N. There will be no negotiations. You either submit or you die. Are you sure of this?"

His question was genuine, it was clear in his eyes.

"Just give my message to Viserys," she answered.

Daemon waited a few seconds and then nodded.

"If you were anyone else, I would have your head now."

She ran a hand through his silver hair.

"I know." Her smile as she looked at him was tinted with sorrow. He looked at her too, understanding, as his heart grieved as well.

"I will leave for King's Landing as soon as the sun rises," he said. "And when I return, nothing will be the same again. Do you understand that?"

"It is the hour of ghosts," she whispered. "Dine with me one last time. Share my bed. Do not hurry. It is our last night together. Let it belong to us."

He finished his cup of wine and threw it into the fire.

"Forget about dinner." He took her cup as well and did the same with it. "Until dawn arrives, we belong to each other. Together. As we were always meant to be."

He grasped her chin, his thumb pressing on her bottom lip.

"I do not wish to waste a single minute of it," he whispered.

Their lips clashed together in an instant, hungry, desperate. She arched her back, pressing her body against his, as his hands blindly and shakily tried to undo the laces that tied her dress. She bit on his bottom lip, making his breath hitch, asking him for more as she clung to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed her forcefully, sliding his tongue against hers, letting themselves get lost in each other. His hands still tried to unlace the back of her dress, as he had done so many times before but now the anxiousness to get rid of it didn't let him. She wasn't doing any better as she tugged on his doublet, frustrated when it wouldn't budge, and broke away from the kiss to pull on the small silver chains that held it together, snapping them off one by one. Still agitated, Daemon reached behind him and pulled a dagger. She was so focused on undressing him she didn't notice until he pressed the blade against her skin, between her breasts, and slid it down, swiftly cutting the fabric of her dress.

"Daemon!" she complained, feeling the warmth of the fireplace on her bare breasts. But he just gave her a mischievous look and knelt in front of her, finishing cutting her out of her dress. It fell and pooled around her, leaving her completely naked.

His eyes didn't leave her as he got rid of his also ruined doublet, placing his sword on the floor.

"It would have taken too long," he breathed out, baring his torso.

He lifted a brow, inviting her to join.

In a haze, she knelt down next to him and pressed her lips against his, licking them until he opened his mouth and let her kiss him, moist, dirty, delirious. When he finished undressing his hands found her back and without breaking the kiss he made her lean until her back was on the floor, the rug soft under her body. They parted for just a moment to look at each other, trying to force themselves to burn this into their memory, to never forget.

With her pupils so dilated her eyes were dark, she dug her nails into his lower back, trying to get him to fuck her. To love her.

"Daemon," she moaned, her lips parting as she gasped for breath, hooking a leg around his hips. "Please."

He didn't need anything else, his eyes never leaving hers as he slid into her slowly, making her feel drunk when he was finally buried deep inside her, right where he belonged. She closed her eyes for just a moment but Daemon's sudden grip on her thigh made her open them again.

"Look at me," he whispered. She did as he said and his hand loosened his grip to stroke her thigh, as he slowly slid out of her and in again, setting a slow pace, burying himself deep inside her. Their eyes were connected with lust, longing, and something else neither would ever admit.

Y/N's hands splayed across his chest and she ran them all over his body, feeling his warm skin, his muscles, his scars. Remembering every part of him as if she had never left. He brushed his lips against hers, making her arch her neck up to kiss him, but he denied her, burying his head in her shoulder instead. She could feel his heavy breathing against her skin as she crossed her legs behind his hips, guiding his movements, guiding him back inside her.

She ran her hands through his hair, undoing his braid, letting it free. She felt one of his hands touching her breasts, slowly, his finger circling around one of her nipples, leaving trails of fire on her skin. Time slowed down as he moved to suck on her nipple, making it even harder than it was, making the heat inside her unbearable. She cried out as she grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look at her.

"Kiss me," she begged, the feeling of him sinking into her over and over again almost sending her over the edge.

He did as she asked, engulfing her in a long, passionate kiss. And when they parted, a string of saliva still connecting them, they gazed into each other's eyes, telling each other what their words couldn't say.

"Y/N..." he breathed out, and she knew what he meant.

"Do it," she whispered, running her hands through his hair. "You know, Daemon. I know as well."

"I need you to say it," he insisted, looking at her deeply. "For both of us."

"I am yours..." she said, cupping the side of his face. "As you are mine."

He changed his pace then, slamming his hips into hers and hitting that sweet spot every single time, driving both of them over the edge. As he started losing his rhythm, he leaned down and kissed her desperately. She kissed him back, dissolving into pleasure as she clenched around him and felt him slowly stop moving, spilling deep inside her.

They kissed until they ran out of breath and Daemon rolled to his side, holding her body to follow his.

They lay in front of the fireplace, lost in each other's eyes, their bodies still intertwined.

They would be strangers in a few hours, but for now, they were still allowed to love.

Next part.

Tagging: @batprincess1013 @lollaa-puff @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mamamooqa @queenmendes @chevelledahuman @thanyatargaryen @zgzgzh @boofy1998 @lovelokiqueen @kmhappybunny240 @dudde-44 @dankfarrikdin @gothicgay14 @ilovemarauders @ilovemydinoboi @asgardiandeadpoetsociety @how2besalty @kaitieskidmore1 @thhriller @omgsuperstarg @missyviolet123 @booksnink13

TAG LIST CLOSED. If you asked to be tagged and you are not here, it's because tumblr wouldn't let me tag you. Sorry. I'll use the tag #queenoficeprinceoffire so you can follow anyway.

[stubborndooter]

Okay oh boy do I have something in store for you guys!

Okay so I'm obsessed with Don't Starve at the moment but am also falling back into my COTL obsession bit by bit and I figured hey why not mix the two and see how some of my friends and favorite artists' characters would look if they were sent to the Constant and now we got this!

Okay so going in order using a bullet point method we have:

Self:

• My IRL self

• My COTL sona, Agla

Friends in a Discord Server:

• Cotton (aka @leshy-of-the-old-faith )

• Silva (aka @scrapman-silva-and-alanor )

• Lamb (aka @the-lamb-cult-leader )

• Alm (aka @minecraftminecraft69 )

• Baal (idk who the Tumblr is I'll update it when I do tho-)

• Shirakuma (aka @ask-theprincessofpeace )

Artists' Characters on Tumblr:

• Freddy (from @creeperchild 's blog (He already Constant-ified Freddy before so nice potential reference thingy was available))

• Buttercup (from @cult-of-a-buttercup 's blog)

• Crownbearer Ratau (from @rabiesram 's blog)

• Belomor (from @kedicatt-cotl 's blog)

• Unnamed Yellow Cat (from @tacofuus 's blog)

This is probably the sole time I'm tagging more than like 5 people unless I end up getting the idea to do something like this again-

Anyways hopefully you all enjoyed this, I tried to make titles for the peeps that could fit. Really hoping I'm accurate with them...

...aight that's all! See ya guys!

[leshy-of-the-old-faith]

Hey leshy gimme my beach episode

@scrapman-silva-and-alanor Soon!

《 Oh Silva~! Ready For Tomorrow's Beach Day? Because I Am! 》

This Has Happened And I Think This AU Leshy Is Now Permanently Pink So I'll Soon Move Leshy And Use Charlie My Lambsona As A Replacement Because Leshy Has Fully Went Love Struck! :(

[the-one-who-waits]

《 I Lost My Virginity To A Snek Silva! Does That Mean I Don't Get My Free Pass To Heaven, Or What? 》

@scrapman-silva-and-alanor Is The Snek

Last time you texted me you were in the deepest pits of Hell, Leshy are you okay?

[scrapman-labs-official-account]

[sending documents: Alanor research, shared research]

[authorisation code accepted]

[documents sent]

[document 1]

Specimen name: Alanor

Specimen signature: 1

Threat class: sel

Power class: ryel

Tactical class: sel-ryel

Cooperation level: class one mutual research pact

Description: Alanor is either an entity made of nothing but metals and crystallised stars that looks to be a massive worm about the size of our star, or something similar to Spartan 117 if he had armour made only to intimidate and be generally spikey, depending on whether he is moving around off or on world respectively. In on world form his body consists of layers of armoured, flowing metal flesh underneath about five(5) layers of armour of incredible resilience. His face is split into five(5) plates, each with an eye on it except for the bottom plate which houses nothing, but instead moves like a mouth. It has been confirmed that these plates are as strong as the layered armour on the rest of his body, being able to easily withstand joint assault testing from specimens 2 and 7 without being even scuffed on any part of his body other than it's weak spots

Weak spots:

Between the neck and shoulder on each side is a small organ that allows for the generation of modern firearms and above. Shooting this will make him stumble back for exactly 1.254 seconds, so be careful and shoot multiple times as it adds 1.254 seconds extra time to this stumbling. Most effective exploitation method: laser weaponry or machine guns.

The back of his legs, specifically behind his kneecaps, are very squishy and can be pierced by most projectiles if they have enough force to their launching at the area, and have been confirmed to make him scream, open up the plates on his face and letting out a disorienting roar, if they are hit. Exploitation method: sniper rifle or heavy (preferably about 15 kg of pure plasmoxi goldsteel) throwing knife.

Under the faceplates there is a single point of high vulnerability that requires multiple exploitations of both other weak spots to reliably locate, aim at and have the time to fire at. If this spot is hit then the specimen will let out a deafening screech and fall to the ground dead. This screech destroys the hearing of anyone who hears it within fifty(50) kilometres of its PoO (point of origin. Please, junior researchers, don't make jokes about it. We are an organisation dedicated to research of gods and we don't have time for so many of you to be laughing at such things).

No known weak spots on main body other than the heart. Method of exploitation: theoretically, every nuke humanity has and then some.

Weaponry and capabilities:

The specimen is able to generate any weapon required for any situation from weak spot one(1)

Orbital ordinance

Multiple detonation fragmentation grenades

High power plasmic breath attack

Anti magic field

Anti divinity field

High intelligence matrix

Note: angering the specimen is highly inadvisable.

[document 2]

Greetings, professor @smolgoblinman. I have seen your private research on those gods your people so love, and thought that you would be bale to send me their documents for public research and awareness spread of your kind. Maybe soon a shared research effort can be started?

Your fellow researcher,

Professor Scrapman

[moch-ila]

tyler sift

fearful

stake house

bobby flaaaaay

1972

revelations

liver

fork

alaine of alanor

[444names]

altmer names from tes BUT similar to "pangur"

Adawe Adiel Aduntel Airen Alanore Aldone Aldoril Alilne Alinde Alion Alkel Alorron Alrion Altil Anale Anara Ancor Andar Anden Ander Anilas Animmen Antus Anwen Anyalon Arair Arelar Arian Arina Arion Armil Arnon Arore Arunmir Aryar Asinwe Assee Astel Aston Athen Atortar Aurtare Avalen Ayandar Binde Caanien Caanil Caemme Calin Calmo Camar Camelel Canarar Cande Canwe Canwen Carelun Carfire Carion Cariwe Carnamo Caser Cashath Cassin Catalri Celar Celil Celya Cemth Cillil Cimil Cimmel Ciraywy Cireda Cirse Cirtan Clori Coldue Colie Colin Colis Collewe Colmang Conirel Coren Coreth Coril Corrion Corwen Cuinde Cultar Cumbar Curarg Curegel Curit Curlov Curril Cymerya Cyragge Cyrelur Cyrire Durion Durtil Ealey Ealia Ealquen Earme Edguamo Egerd Ehtil Elaril Eline Elinyre Ellar Ellock Elsewen Elwen Emalil Emire Emlocil Endyar Enenie Engwe Enlon Enyeius Eranel Erindar Erolar Errime Errion Erunsia Esorimn Faicir Faminco Fanolia Fanwen Faran Faril Farimo Farmus Farumo Filin Finion Finul Firan Firatch Firdo Firion Firyaon Fisin Foran Gaeboon Gamme Garion Garon Gatil Gindil Ginlil Graser Grawen Grelin Gretile Grile Gulisha Gulne Haldil Hanyar Haron Haved Hecamil Helar Hendius Henne Hentus Heriros Herrion Highas Himon Hinian Hinque Hisse Husar Hyyond Iando Iantos Iisse Iivir Ilock Infirwe Ingil Iniril Inwen Irele Itauril Ithoril Jorne Kalinde Kemme Kilin Korelen Koresse Kormire Laeus Lalaran Lalilf Lalion Lancon Lanemus Lanil Lanire Lanyar Laratch Larema Laril Lasur Laurel Lelcon Lelur Lendo Lerna Lesalf Liania Liendil Lingil Linil Linoril Linuri Lirana Lirel Lirido Lirmo Lirorer Lisare Lisse Listen Litha Locaril Lonwe Lormius Loviel Lovilno Macanya Manare Mandewe Mania Manwen Marfas Maruuts Melya Menodil Merhrom Mingori Minire Minwy Mirosar Mital Molar Molnen Mondil Moril Morona Mulil Mundel Murcame Muumeth Nafwe Narion Narwen Necar Negunos Nellir Nelwo Nemen Nenia Nercori Nerfir Netaril Nimande Nimerel Nithan Nocasse Nodil Nolinwe Nolqua Noren Nunaamo Nunil Nurtuch Nuudil Nuurie Oblia Ocaril Oftpen Ohtaar Oiman Oldar Onvina Oretuir Orilwe Orion Orriona Palire Pamare Pamion Panaan Pande Pandwen Pelwen Penora Peraye Pirion Pirye Porsare Psylaar Psyse Qaminil Qualmo Quarmo Quengor Querion Quoral Rande Rerema Reryond Rildmar Riondia Rulayne Ruldo Rulqual Rulya Rulylen Rumbous Runie Runin Ruron Ruuvon Salen Salwe Sanurel Saratil Sarel Sarie Saril Sarth Sator Saumo Saursal Sauts Sengwe Silian Sillan Sinda Sindin Sindira Sindire Sintia Sinwen Sirer Sirfil Sirie Sisse Skyrion Solara Solian Solie Soluin Sorie Soron Soudal Splawe Staar Stemion Stora Stormir Suffir Sufwe Sunius Surar Taare Talcan Talenwe Talinar Talion Tandawe Tanen Tanie Tarar Tarna Telalus Telare Telenn Telmin Teltore Tennair Teron Thane Thlon Thnisse Thonwe Thron Tildil Timoril Tirayon Tithda Tithlor Tumil Turen Turien Twolmo Ulana Umande Umbar Umengen Umindel Undolin Untar Urdil Urque Urton Uulina Vaemme Vairume Valemur Valen Valigwe Valirie Valmas Valmion Vande Varion Varomar Varsare Venme Vennil Venyre Vintil Vinwir Virch Virele Virion Vitan Winuya Yvaemus Zenwe

[scrapman-silva-and-alanor]

**Enters through the window**

HEY BITCH I'M HERE TO TAKE YOU TO THE HORNY JAIL

(alanor POV)

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE THE BOSS ALIVE!

*grabs Silva and jumps out the window*

FUCK YOUUUUUUU

[ambrial-blog]

Daddy Dearest: part Two Synopsis

Two years later Tragedy Strikes. A freak accident occurs leaving Fizzorolli as a quadriplegic. Fizz is in pain, but Blitzo is by his side having saved up enough money to buy Fizzorolli mechanical arms and legs. Blitzo never leaves Fizz's side. often sleeping by his bedside. Blitzo was there every step of the way. While a mysterious fire breaks out. devastating Loo-Loo land and destroying Cash's legacy. The Ringleader become unstable. lashing out at wife, Son and daughter. One night before Fizz's surgery, as Fizz lay asleep. Cash stumbles in drunk and yelling at his boy. Fizz's eyes shoot open as Blitzo is yanked out from the chair and thrown onto the floor. Cash is furious, unclasping his whip from his hip. "Blitzo! Watch out!" Fizz cries. horrified as he helplessly watches his best friend being whipped and beaten before his eyes. the strike of the whip cut deeply, leaving shallow lacerations across his back. Blitzo is beaten so badly, that the shrill screams from Fizzorolli has the orderlies running. _____________________________________________________

Five orderlies all together appear near the edge of the door. Their lead a tall male. with a glistening ebony horn jutting out the middle of his forehead grumbles under his breath. His kaleidoscope skin reflected in the dim glow. Large almond shaped eyes widened in horror. The black and white checkered marbled flooring was smattered with fresh blood. A man was standing over his son. his body quivering with barely kempt anger. Another demon orderly broke through and stopped dead in his tracks. Ivory white hair glistened in the dim lighting. midnight blue skin shimmered under the grainy glow of the hospital light. The pair of peculiar demons in white uniforms rush in while three other wrestled the Ring-master down. The Lead, knelt down. Alanor placed his finger on Blitzo's neck trying to locate a pulse. While Abyss began cutting the remains of a tattered shirt. Before joining his collogue checking to see if Blitzo was still breathing. He was but barely. Abyss's ears tingled upon hearing the ragged, shallow breathing. of the teenager. Blitzo's skin had been flayed open with the spiked nine tails. "Get him out of here!" Alanor snarls. his eyes sharpening. He could barely look at the Ring leader who was being man handled out the door. A wet gurgling sound tingles Abyss's ears drawing him back to the matter at hand. "Grab the Gurney we need one in hear stat, he needs to be rushed to the E.R. immediately!" Abyss snaps. his hands stained with Blitzo's blood. A child's blood. The Abysnal had to keep his mind clear if they were going to save the imp. "Blitzo, Blitzo, answer me!" Fizzorolli cries. Tears stream down his face. his friend's name becomes a mantra in his head. Zarr, Jaxx and Stag throw Cash out into the empty corridor. Jaxx darts off to find an empty gurney. as Zarr and Jaxx stand guard. time was of the essence. and the wraith orderly stood on pins and needles. he along with Jaxx had sold their souls to a serpent overlord. Meanwhile back inside, Abyss turns Blitzo over onto his side. the imp groans in pain. Fizzorolli could see the anguish in Blitzo's eyes as the boy grimaces trying his best to breathe with four broken ribs. "Shh, its going to be okay" Abyss says trying to soothe both Fizzorolli and Blitzo's fears. I will call your parents. "Call my father Milengo" "Rest assured we will take good care of him" "listen to me asshole! call my father! tell him that Fizzorolli is in critical condition and that the Ring Master has shown his true colors. "Are you listening to me!" Fizzorolli growls wiggling in his bed. "We'll patch him up and bring him back here, and yes- then we call your father and let him know of your condition. I promise you, that you two won't be separated. And then Abyss here will call Cam and try and get ahold of Tilla and Barbie. "Shh, your both safe here under our care. Fizzorolli watches as the orderlies cart Blitzo off on the gurney. "But- But- he used up all his income sources on me" "He has no way of fitting the bill"

[tiredarts-sketchbook]

[stubborndooter]

Someone for the love of fuck help me I made an Agla GIF (will be next post) and now I'm drawing a fuck ton of follower form peeps.

Colin from Changed

Puro from Changed

Cotton (@cotton-lesh-of-the-old-faith)

Alm (@minecraftminecraft69)

Gabriel (@just-a-stupid-jas)

Silva (@scrapman-silva-and-alanor)

I have no fucking self control someone take my hands away

[leshy-of-the-old-faith]

@scrapman-silva-and-alanor

Going To Visit Cousin That Married In " I ACCIDENTLY SAID INLAWS FUCK IM NOT EVEN MARRIED!!!" Be Back Later Tonight

(Leshy Has Gone Fishing For Today!)

(Beach Episode On Put On Hold For Now)