#the god of pestilence
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@begyaoiplaens meggi- do u see it- do u see it - **unatural stuff actung natural** do u see it- meggi- meggi- the brain worms- the Pastilence is here- the end of time has come-
my favorite genre of images are server rooms that look like someone murdered a computer
#AAA BRAINWORMS#meggi help.olease tell me u see it as well I JUST TALKD ABIUT THIS TO UUUU#contamination#pestilence#the god of pestilence#it will contaminate you hehe pun#oc lore#lore
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It's hard being a field medic for the god of war, huh?
#sn art#cotl kallamar#cotl#cult of the lamb#cult of the lamb kallamar#cotl au#idk what to call this au yet but its how the bishops all become the bishops yknow#cw blood#but i think he deserves a little trauma before becoming the god of pestilence#posting this before i get too embarrassed too aaghh
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Miscellaneous Sketchbook doodles
(He/Him for Yellow Cat/Apollo)
#coolcatbeans#possly art#cult of the lamb#cotl#cotl narinder#cotl goat#Pushing Daisies au#New god of Famine#New god of Pestilence#New god of War#cotl yellow cat
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Father Teeths
Dw he is VERY trusthworthy 😉😉
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Just dont bleed around him. 🤗
#digital art#cult of the lamb#cotl fandom#cotl#cotl fanart#cotl bishops#cotl kallamar#cotl the fox#cotl fox#the fox my beloved#teeth in the darkness#father fox#stained glass#preacher#blue crown#god of pestilence#cannibalistic#tw religion/cult(?)#smash#blessed
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Kindness to Nurglings
Nurgle x F! Reader fic. 3,050 words, estimated read 15min.
Content warnings: NSFT. Graphic discussion of disease, decay, parasites, fungi, rot, etc; -- You know, all that stuff Nurgle is known for. Minor mind control/ perception alteration. Tentacles. It's just good and gross all around. Dead Dove Do Not Eat.
"Plot": You, the Reader, found a strange beast, all sickly and desperately in need of care. You do your best to take care of it, and, when its mightier friends come, your kindness is... Repaid? by the Lord of Decay himself.
Now available on AO3!
It was a strange little creature, scampering there out in the near-dark twilight fields. At first, you'd mistaken it for a dog— A mangy one, for sure, but a dog nonetheless. It had the joyful spiritedness of an animal that refused to believe anything was wrong with it, and so, with a combination of the gentlest-bristled broom you had and an old kennel, you herded it to a relative safety.
Only when you had it in the light in your house could you see it was no dog, no breed you knew of, at least— Or it had been so horrifically injured that it wasn't recognizeable thereby. Something animal in you screeched to run from it, but you battered that silent with better human nature, and decided on a bit more safety than before. Donning a thick coat and leather gardening gloves and an old mask you had lying about, you wedged a shallow bowl into its cage and poured it some water from a bottle, tks-tks and ps-ps —ing to get its boisterous attention and splashing the clean water. If it was rabid, you knew there was nothing you could do about it, and it was best to call wildlife control and have it taken care of a different way— But you'd nursed some sick creatures to health before, and if it drank, it could surely be saved.
You were delighted to see it bop over in an uneven hobble, noticing one of its legs shorter than the other three; When it unfurled a long, white-slimed tongue from its squashed-in maw and lapped up the clean water thirstily, you hesitantly moved a glove near the cage. Unlike anything wild, it perked up and tried to rub its… Face? Against the leather, much like an affecitonate cat might; Heartened, you pushed leather to bars, and felt the pressure of its slimy, pustulent skin against your hand. It was cooing, or perhaps purring; What had been the phlegmy, rattling breaths of its standard existence deepened and grew more expressive, earned a more pleased vibrato to them, and, still gloved, you scratched up where its ears might once have been, now reduced to crusty, waxy holes.
When you pulled your hand away, it stood on its hind legs, the hips squelching in a rather off-putting manner as it did so. And… It straightened in a distinctly humanoid stance. Between that and the skin, you wondered if this was some sort of Xeno child, or a Warp-touched… Something. You couldn't wrap your head around it— Something about it danced at the edge of recollection, the barest hint of the uncanny, and as it seemed to smile through a faceful of pus-streaming sores, you wondered what you'd gotten yourself into.
xxx~~~xxx
You'd named it Boops. Whatever Boops was, no amount of washing, soap, mite treatments, or antibacterial soaps seemed to help. You'd tried to give it some of your dog's old oral antibiotics, but it'd had such a violent reaction and wailed so piteously that you had no choice but to avoid it. Boops was, despite the… Frankly disgusting nature of itself, in remarkably good shape. They'd run about and smear their mess on things with a radiant joy that was quite charming, and honestly, you'd gotten used to the smell after some days and just confined them to a guest room to reduce the cleaning needed.
And so much cleaning! It seemed Boops was a veritable font of pus, seeping lymph, phlegm, bile, and clotting blood. Whatever they had was… Well, you hoped not contagious. If you were this way, you'd surely be rushed to the hospital. And after these days of no improvement, that's where you'd decided to take Boops: The veterinarian.
As you scooted them into a carrier, they started tugging with excitement at your sleeve, and pointing behind you— Those digits were surprisingly flexible, to point. Almost raccoonlike— Could this be a raccoon?— But you looked where Boops pointed, and gasped.
Shambling from the forest where Boops themselves had arrived was a whole horde of other Boops-es, laughing and rushing towards town. Following them were flies large as a goat, which swept in towards you. Boops howled something in its tongue, and the flies diverted away— And the howl brought other attention.
Men, or things like men, in armour at once chitinous, keratinous, and ceramite-like, trudged in steady line through the trees. Their weapons were huge; Their stench was nearly unbearable. Boops yowl-chittered something, and this time, it was more like words. One of the massive men turned your way, marched to you. You grabbed Boops out of the carrier in your bare arms and ran, ran to town.
The thudding of hulking steps behind you grew near far quicker than you could run, and before you knew it, there was a hand on your shirt. You twisted and fought, tearing your shirt down the back on the rusted, diseased metal of the armour the man-thing wore, but then it grabbed your arm in a grip strong enough you felt your bones creak.
You howled. It hurt. The machine-man tugged. You tugged back, still carrying Boops like a football, like a baby, tucked to your chest.
Boops scampered up the man's arm and perched gaily upon his shoulder, and hopped up and down in place, chittering. The man loosened his grip a little, and the small beast rubbed its face on the helmet before it, just how it had rubbed its face upon your hand some days ago.
And the man lifted you, and carried you away.
xxx~~~xxx
He walked for some time, and you had stopped fighting. Wherever it was that he and Boops had come from, you were growing afraid of both for it; Back this way, the plants had withered and blackened, fungations sapping the life from old, once-mighty trees, molds drizzling down from the bushes in mockeries of berries. The animals that you could identify were, at times, writhing in feverish spasms, and at other times wandering with zombielike aimlessness, wandering out, away, from the direction you headed, the infective epicentre.
There, a roiling morass of tentacles and entrails in a robe spoke with the armoured man who had carted you all this way, spoke the same tongue as Boops seemed to, and you wept as you were handed off to this one, instead.
xxx~~~xxx
Little bumps had formed across your body, warm but neither tender nor painful; You could have mistaken them for shaving-bumps, but for the fact you'd not shaved.
When you exited the swirling greenish portal the man made of undulating disconnected meat had opened on your apparent behalf, these odd bumps had become raised, reddened ulcers, and had begun to grow sore. You coughed wetly, and a similar cough echoed behind you— Boops' cough. The little beastie had come with you, and now reached up on tip-toes to hold your hand, pull you deeper into this horrible world.
The ground was spongy like half-putrefied flesh, covered in massive tubes of slime-molds that looked disconcertingly like blood-vessels, throbbing and pumping and shuddering. The air was humid, thick, stagnant and filled with so much stench it made you vomit, and then vomit again, and keep retching until your belly ached and you could barely breathe. Boops held back your hair, and then, once you'd shakily returned to your feet, rolled in the mess before standing up and running off.
A copse of perfect trees stood tall, vibrantly green and absolutely untouched by the decay all around; You saw them through the haze of spores and stench, and ran to them like a lifeline.
When you burst through, you wished, immediately, you hadn't.
A corpulent mound of pure, slime-slick decay, of bulbous poxy sores, of open, writhing guts, of wounds infected and purulent, of wriggling and teeming parasites, reclined lazily upon a throne of bones cemented with adipocere and fungus. He turned his head, jowls wobbling with a bloated sort of fullness, and grinned wide, revealing row after row of sharp, carnivorous teeth.
"My dear!" He cried, and stretched out his arms, moribund body creaking, skin peeling, sores weeping at the motion. "Oh, my dear, by baby here has been telling me SO much of you! I must say, I really love the fact you tried to give him baths. That's HILARIOUS."
He gestured his arms down to Boops, who ran up and nestled into the yeasty folds of his creator's belly, smearing vomit on the flesh that seemed to disintegrate into black sludge at the slightest touch.
"You even named him. Boops! That's such a cute name! Honestly, like your own little rotten child," He laughed, and picked up the little creature, placing the small thing upon his prodigious belly. It chewed into a pustule and made a nest of it, looking down at you with unabashed delight.
You took a step back, mouth agape, not even sure what to make of the scene before you.
"Now, don't be shy!" The mound of putrescence before you laughed, and in a dizzying moment of vertigo, you were at his feet. You knelt forward as your stomach siezed, and demanded you vomit the nothing in it, or, barring that, vomit up the organ itself.
"Oh look, they even know to kneel!" He laughed, and leaned forward, creeks of black rot and bile pouring down, squeezed from his flesh. He touched, and the sores on your body blossomed into agony and consumption, vibrant red and weeping blood. You screamed, the pain and fear finally coming to vocalization, and this caused the impossible being of decay before you to frown. Boops chittered.
"Oh, they haven't? My, my! Such a strong will, indeed. This far without even accepting my blessing? Just a little kindness, hmm? Oh, we can't lose that, no no!" He grabbed you up in his hands, and more sores began to grow, fungi spreading from opened skin, burrowing and wriggling into nerves and muscles in a torrent of agony.
Something in you whispered to let Papa take care of you, and he'd take all that pain away. You, dazed and beyond overwhelmed, accepted.
The pain lifted. Subsided. Washed away into waves of… Well, not pleasure, but contentment, for now. It was far, far better than the agonies that had preceeded it just moments before.
"Isn't that better?" The great monstrosity above you cooed, and rested you on his belly, near to Boops. He looked down at you, and hummed, and waved fingers as if plucking invisible threads from you; Fungi unburrowed, sores shrunk, and others festered and blackened. The crusty eschars on you looked, to your addled, but… Still fairly happy, mind, like a leopard's spots, and you touched the black lesions with reverence. They sent tingles of pleasure up your spine, like a particularly good back-rub.
You remembered, then, the thing had asked a question, and looked up, opening dry, cracking lips to answer in the affirmative; How long had it been since you'd drunk anything?
Gazing upon his face, his gums puffy and red, teeth snaggled and yellowed, horns branching like tangled tree-limbs from his mighty head, you found an odd affection for the thing that had, clearly, done something to you. You ran a finger across the dried crisp of some peeling skin, and smiled a thin crescent.
"Ohhh, flatterer. You know, it's been a long, long time since there's been a human so dead set on healing a Nurgling! You're really a rare breed," You heard him say, and felt him laugh, fetid breaths causing his belly to bounce with you on top of it. It was not unlike the wavered undulations of a bouncy-castle, and you found yourself smiling wider, lips cracking until they bled, at the memory. You licked them, tasted your own blood upon them.
"Nurgling?" You echoed, and found yourself tilting your head up his way. He quirked an eyebrow and then laughed again.
"A barbaric world, then! Undiscovered little thing. Yes, Nurgling, one of my many children, pretty one." He caressed your cheek with a mighty, clawed hand, leaving a greasy smear in its wake, just like the grease that was seeping into your clothes from below. "And that makes me, to you, Nurgle. Papa, or Grandfather, sometimes. You really don't know me, hm? Ah, that's alright. Better, maybe."
You tried his name, and felt his bloated body shiver with delight. You smiled, and felt his hand sink into your clothes, which spooled apart into dusty decay and left you naked as the day you came into the world atop his belly. It was a bit embarassing, to be stared at by someone you'd only just met, so quickly you squeezed your legs shut and covered your chest as well as you could— Only for two fingers to grab your hand, try to reveal your modesty gently.
"Don't be that way," the horned beast cooed, and heat, feverish and yet wonderful, rose in your face, bloomed over ears and chest in a deep blush. "Don't be that way, little dear. You did so like Boops, wouldn't you like to have some Boops-es of your own?"
The thought gave you brief pause, but when he put it that way, you found, though you might not have before, that was rather appealing. You were certain that even just minutes ago, the thought of it would have been horrifying beyond imagining, but now? Now the longer you thought about it, the more you found you wanted it— The more you found yourself wanting it. Slick of your own joined the grease on his belly, and that toothy maw grinned to feel it.
"There's a good pretty one," he purred, and grunted as he heaved something up, something else out of the way, and a different stench filled the air.
You found yourself sliding down his belly, eased by the copious and unidentifiable fluids seeping from his flesh, until you came to a rest on a thigh, and found protruding from beneath his fat, bloated folds a cock as long as a pine tree, and with girth to match, bulbous and scarred, seeping unholy colours and dripping with chunks of waxy-yellow. You stared up at him and asked him how, exactly, this was intended to fit in you, if you were supposed to give him more Nurglings; He laughed, and shook his whole body with the heaving, thunderous jiggles of the laughter, and told you not to worry.
So you didn't; You reached where you could, and pulled the remarkably-sinuous organ towards yourself, feeling it ripple and move in a way no human's could. If anything, it seemed prehensile, and as you wrapped your arms around it to set on the task of providing what pleasure you could to your lord, it wound back around you and writhed, as if it was trying to frot you, and not the other way round.
Deep rumbles of enjoyment slid from the Chaos god's phlegmy throat, and, bolstered by that, you set to using not just your arms and chest, but thighs and feet and mouth as well, clambering upon the organ in its entirety and squeezing and wriggling with as much sensuality as you could manage.
This was taken quite well, and the cock wound back around you, pressing a tip wide as a soda-can to your lips; Dutifully, you opened, and licked and suckled and kissed upon the rotten-smelling tip, providing a scant cleanliness to the waxy-smeared, puffy urethra-lips and digging out only-Papa-knew-what from the hole. Your hands squeezed and danced across the cockskin, tracing hearts and rubbing the slipping skin wholesale, while you pressed your belly and ground your holes against a bump so nicely formed for you from the twisting, tentacle-like organ.
Perhaps pseudopod would be more accurate; Even as you writhed upon the larger source-shaft, you felt little pappilae, little cillia, of smaller cocks bud out and protrude. Most of them stayed small, rubbing across you in delightful dances, caressing each lesion like so many tongues, lapping at nipples, tangling up in your fingers; But some decided to grow larger, and grow into you.
You found your cunt pushed against by a similar tentacle, followed shortly by your ass; The waxy slime across the whole of his cock was plenty lubrication, and he slid in easily, starting small, growing larger. A cadre of little tentacle-dicks assaulted your clit, teased your trimmed vulva, tickled and danced across your perineum, eventually ensconcing you like underwear in a horde of trembling pleasures. The cocklets in your pussy and asshole began to grow, both rougher and larger, and worked on properly thrusting into you.
You gasped and moaned, and humped into the mass of cockflesh that had wrapped you up as surely as you held it; soon you had no room to move, caught like an insect to a sundew, and simply thrust your hips back against the tentacles that ploughed into you. Your cries raised into the muggy, musky heavens, and Nurgle groaned a little, shifting to rest you back into his hand, gently rock push back-and-forth with the pleasure your own writhing body gave him.
It didn't take too long before his many, many cockheads went from weeping a greenish-clear to a whitish-green, and he growled a possessive little rumble down your way. "Mnh!— Have another— Blessing—!" He grunted, and the slow seep of off-coloured cum became a surge. The thousands of tiny pseudopodal cocklets seeped semen out like a massive stamen, while the can-thick tentacles ravaging your cunt and asshole paused, shifted in as deep as they could go, and spewed forth an unholy torrent of thick, rotten cum into your helpless body. You felt your belly bloat up, and your eyes rolled back as you came, harder than you ever had in your prior life.
He pulled back, and the many little dicks receeded into his own primary organ; the ones nestled in your holes were the last to go, slipping away with sloppy pops that left you shuddering with aftershocks of your own orgasm. You clung to his cock, sliding slowly down, before you plopped into his bloated palm and were deposited rather gently onto the soft grassy ground by his throne.
"Grow and multiply, now," he panted, huffing miasma out into the air. "Go, now, and be a proud Mama."
#nurgle#chaos gods#nsft#warhammer 40k x reader#nurgle x reader#nurglexreader#fem reader#f reader#monster fucker#monster fucking#terato#teratophillia#decay#rot#bugcatching#pestilence#plague#warhammer#warhammer 40k#warhammer chaos#x reader#you pov#2nd person pov#nurgleth#my art
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WOAH oh my god?? it's oc time??! some character sheets of my main two gals for my original story, Visions of the Hereafter!
the plot focuses on heiress to the underworld (also known as the medium in-universe), atalanta, who shows great raw power but has incredible difficulty channeling and restraining her emotions, which is super important when you're a necromancer. and while her mentors have taught her a lot, her aunt brisa never lets her hear the end of how far behind she is, as the clock is ticking for her ascension as head necromancer.
meanwhile, mortal delinquent and con artist kris has lived her whole life with the strange ability to sense the dead...when atalanta goes up to the surface under brisa's strict supervision as part of her training, what on earth happens when she manages to sneak off anyways and bumps into kris? it seems like the two are inexplicably connected, somehow...could the realms of the living and dead colliding like this only spell disaster just like atalanta's education in the medium has always taught her, or could it perhaps lead to something more...?
everything regarding this story is gonna be in my #VotHa tag from now on, more guys to come!
#GOD OKAY. IM FINALLY DONE WITH THESE.#i started these damn sheets in november and then life kept. HAPPENING!!!#HOPEFULLYYY i can intoduce the other guys soon though i am. SOOO excited for the rest of em.#also YES. kris and atalanta are love interests....it's unimaginably slow burn yuri but it IS endgame#oc: atalanta#oc: kris#oc: seung gi#oc: pestilence#oc: brisa#<- just bc they make cameos in the sheets lol#VotHa#FINALLYYY got a tag for this story YAAAAYYYY!!!!!!!!!!#sketchbook
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Yersinia The Plague
They are Yersinia the God of Pestilence. They are a sadistic lord of death which creates illnesses and spreads them in the world. Of course, They are based on the medieval Plague Doctors, but They don't heal, they bring death. (They are my baby birb :3)
#drawing#cute furry#furry anthro#furry character#furry commissions#furry community#furry fandom#furry oc#furrydrawing#sfw furry#god#lord#plague doctor#plaguecore#skull#creepy#scary#illness#sickness#disease#sick#injuries#doctor#apocalypse#apocalyptic knight#pestilence#crow#furry crow#furry art#anthro art
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Discrepancies III
After my big long post about the importance of colors... I was reminded of a discrepancy in the graphic novel while cleaning up my phone photos.
Shamura's Crown during a flashback to the war is blue.
The final release is coming next month. If this is still like this, then it's not a mistake. But this most likely is not a mistake, and lemme tell y'all why.
Because it doesn't make any sense for an error like this to exist. Kallamar is on this spread too, and his Crown is the correct color. And even if the colorist didn't go "Hmm, I don't think these two share a Crown color", this collaboration isn't with some overseas company they have limited interaction with.
Their point of contact (either the director or the writer) would've looked at this before it was released to the public. A minimum of once. They would've noticed. And it's a very easy fix because the color is done digitally.
Some people dismissed this as an error particularly because of the head-wrapping Shamura's wearing. It was written off as a design the comic artists just made up. But it's not. It's the design their demon form uses.
Actually, all the Bishop's demon forms appear slightly different from their current appearance. The symbol on Kallamar's forehead changes, and there's no blood (or ichor) on their wrappings.
Which probably says something about the nature of what these demon forms represent, for all Followers, not just the Bishops.
That's Pestilence's color. Cyan.
Pestilence -A pernicious, evil influence or agent. -Something that is destructive or pernicious [deadly].
No War song... No Knowledge song... Their current Crown color being associated with corruption...
I know what you are
A FUCKING F R A U D
#cult of the lamb#cotl theory#cotl shamura#cotl#hymns of the unholy#the pestilence was dissenting#making followers dissent#which would kill their gods#without the protection of their gods#they would die from the calamaties
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"I'd ask [God] why he keeps trying to kill us all with disease, pestilence, and natural disasters.
I'd ask why 99% of all species there ever were are now extinct.
If god works in mysterious ways, that way is mysteriously genocidal."
-- Neil deGrasse Tyson
Why would you want to worship a god who clearly wants to murder you?
#Neil deGrasse Tyson#mysterious ways#genocide#genocidal god#god likes genocide#pestilence#natural disasters#god is a dick#religion#religion is a mental illness
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Ah, well, this reaper has grey hair and I would've lost it if he had red eyes. Still... reaper!Sylus. Yep, that is all.
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I did a drawing of Famine a bit ago and I’ve been struggling to draw lately, but hey! I figured maybe doing one of Pestilence would be nice (:
What a woman !
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YALL THE NEW LINEUP IS HERE!!!!
A little bit about Famine's new getup too - pretend that she just ripped up her old dress :o] No but the grey laces that she ties for it to be fitted around her waist are supposed to represent that of rope from a potato sack! I can actually be smart yes Also with her wild and adventurous personality on top of it, I thought it'd make more sense for her to wear open toed shoes!
Bonus lil evolution chart from the changes over the years:
Can you believe I've had these guys for 7 years tomorrow??? T-T They grow up so fast...
#webtoon#after armageddon#four horsemen of the apocalypse#original series#original character#oc lineup#draw it again#oc evolution#art improvement#oc redesign#hip dips#yes war is in the same pose throughout he is just like that#war never changes#frfr#death became tiny too yes#god i love my ocs#famine aa#pestilence aa#war aa#miss death aa
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Gods of Combat & War, Agriculture & Wealth, Health & Fertility and Death
#oc#original character#character design#character art#war#famine#pestilence#death#god#goddess#deity#deities#original gods#armor#fox#grim reaper
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hi uh- this isnt my usual quality but i really wanted to sketch doodle your shittens and my shittens, if thats fine! :>
AWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE BABIES ARE HANGING OUT OMGGGG ;;
THIS IS SO CUTTEEEEE THANK U SO MUCH
#WAAAAAAAAH#LOOK AT THEEEEM#others art#art by others#SO COOL THAT ONE OF THE SHITTENS IS THE NEW GOD OF PESTILENCE OOOOO
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Giving vidreu a pale white plague horse mabari btw
#pestilence coded artificer enby mom to the harbinger of the fragmented soul of the elven god of craft? wild#dru posting
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Ohhh! I care SM!!! Maybe Famine or Pestilence? Those two are my favorites!
YAYYYY YIPEEE !!!!!!
gahhhh so sorry i took little while </3
#the binding of isaac#tboi#tboi pestilence#tboi famine#^^^^ put pesty in a pretty dress …#also i usually dont draw famines teeth out of convenience </3#i am so sorry girlie but i am not drawing all of them god bles .. .#OK HUGE SRS NOW TAHNK U FOR ASK IT MADE ME SO SO HAPPY#LIKE YAYYYYYYY HORSIE HORSIES U LIKE THE HORSIES TO LIKE ME :3333#AAA MY FAVOURITE HORSIE IS DEATH mainly bcause i saw him make the silliest face ever and i went no way ur so sillayyy :3
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