#technically. whoopsie :)

[lsunstreakerl]

Hey! So uh 💀 for the prompt I was wondering of we could get that o!fmf one shot you’ve mentioned if you’re down?

hi anon! you and another anon that asked for "o!ver2 first heat" are getting smushed together into a two-parter! (because "first heat" and "first real heat with each other" are two different things in this verse, and I wanted to showcase both.) part one, max POV, 3.3k. mature. (part two)

pairings: rico verhoeven/max verstappen

relevant heads up: omegaverse, dubious consent due to nature of heat/ruts, fucky politics and power imbalances, unreliable narrator, there's not technically any explicit content here but there will be in part two!

"...What?"

Max's voice is smaller than he means for it to be, scent spiking with fear despite his best efforts. He's done everything for their people, never once faltered, he doesn't understand—

Jos sighs, narrowing his eyes. His tone is deceptively gentle, closer to a croon than Max has heard in years.

"It's the only option, Max. The King is giving us resources we never could've gotten ourselves— it will save everyone. You have to understand that this is all I could offer in return."

He says it like he's discussing an item, not Max. Like this won't change his life in ways he'll never get back, like he isn't sending Max off to join whatever omega harem King Verhoeven has. Max won't be the only one, he can be sure of that— he'll just be the worst.

"I—"

Jos cuts him off again, leaving no room for argument.

"Will still have the opportunity to do a mating run, if you'd like. The King has promised to respect the terms of the agreement even if he can't catch you."

Max grabs onto the thought like a lifeline, desperately clawing at it, cradling it like it can protect him.

If he's good enough, it can.

Jos is frowning.

"It would be... a blight, on the names of all involved, if he wasn't able to succeed."

Max hears the hidden message clearly, baring his fangs and hissing loudly, louder than he's ever dared in his father's direction before.

"I am not throwing the results of my run."

Jos' lips press together into a thin line, but he nods, sighing heavily.

"I should've expected that. This would be much easier if you'd been an alpha, you know."

Everything would've been easier that way. Max is well aware. That doesn't mean he's going to roll belly up for King Verhoeven, just to end up some kind of concubine, only around to carry pups. He'd rather be dead.

------

Max twitches, curling his nails into his palms. His heart feels like a glimmerfly, rapid beats too fast to follow, buzzing in his ears. Mick is at the edge of the forest with him, scent rich with concern as he checks over Max's leathers one more time.

It's not technically cheating to wear them. The rules are to follow cultural standard for which region the participants are from, and as far as Max is concerned, the leathers are so ingrained into northern life that it would be weirder not to wear them.

Max doesn't say anything, but his scent is giving him away, thready with anxiety, and Mick can't even scent him about it— can't do anything that might throw the results of the run.

"It's just— it's like any other alpha, Max. You're stronger than everyone we have at home, so... This is no different."

Max can't even find it within him to purr reassuringly. His nerves are a tight knot in the back of his throat, preheat buzzing at the edge of his senses. He's participated in a few communal mating runs before, mostly for fun, but also because he'd been confident no one could catch him.

Now, it seems like everyone feels differently. They're not in Max's favor anymore, instead trying to reassure him that it won't be so bad, being up at the castle. He's never heard anything about King Verhoeven's omega harem, but it must be real— and he's not going to be a good fit. Mick is the only one acting like Max might still manage to pull this off.

He can smell his father's scent sharpen, biting back a whine as he realizes it must mean the royal delegate is here. He never wanted—

It doesn't matter what he wants.

Mick rumbles lowly at him, sympathetic, before leaning in, toeing the line of how close he can get to Max without being reprimanded.

"I'll visit, Max. We'll figure something out, whatever we have to do— fake your death or something. You just have to make it through this."

Max finally manages a thin purr, forcing a small smile on his face for Mick before turning to look at the delegate. His own group is small, only a few of them spared for ceremonial purposes, and it seems like King Verhoeven's delegate is thin as well.

He freezes when he spots the King. The alpha is huge, with a broad chest and powerful legs, and Max feels the first coil of fear that he's about to get caught, teeth ripping into his neck, taking away his freedom, forcing him to submit—

Mick rumbles again, and Max realizes his scent has gone off, thick with nerves and fear. It's not the impression he wants to give.

He forces the feelings down, lifting his chin as the delegate gets closer. He can smell a few alphas, the sweet scent of an omega or two, and they're all smoothed over in the way that implies a beta within the group, helping keep things easy. There's the spiced scent of the beginnings of a rut that can only be coming from the King.

As much as he doesn't want to be in this situation at all, Max can already feel himself responding to it, scent sweeting slightly in the presence of what should be, by all means, the ideal alpha.

But he's not, and Max needs his brain to work harder than the rest of him, because he can't get caught. He just has to make it until the sun sets, make a mad dash through the woods, and bolt back into the safety of his own group.

He can ride out his heat afterwards in peace, by himself.

Jos has stepped forward to greet the King, and Max is frozen in place as the massive alpha makes his way over. He knows how this part works— he'll be scent marked so that the chasing alpha knows his scent, and then he'll get one hour of a head start to run.

His blood is rushing in his ears as King Verhoeven steps closer to him, directly in his space, and then there's a nose in his neck, pressed against his scent gland—

Max wants to whine, wants to bite, wants to run away, wants to drop to his knees. There's too many conflicting emotions inside of him, and the King's rut scent is muddling his brain.

He's still frozen as the King steps back, pupils blown wide as he looks down at Max.

"It is my honor to chase you today, Maximilian."

Max swallows, salivia thick in his mouth. He doesn't believe him for a second— but he's not going to make it easy either. He doesn't trust his voice, choosing instead to nod slightly, hoping somehow that he isn't broadcasting his nerves.

The rut scent is heavy in his nose, fuzzing out the rest of his brain. Jos is speaking, saying something to rest of the delegate, and Max thinks that maybe Mick is moving next to him, but his rational thinking is falling away, faster then he wanted, faster then he can afford.

Both groups must be able to tell that he's dipping past preheat now, losing his senses one by one, because he hears Jos' voice piercing through the fuzz in his brain, heavy with alpha command.

"Max, go."

He's moving before the words really sink in, darting into the woods. He knows how to do this, even if he's not as aware as he'd like to be, even if he's never slipped this far this fast before.

There's branches whipping against his face as he pushes into a sprint, focusing on getting as much distance as possible. Traps can come after, if he's still coherent enough to make some, but right now he needs—

The river.

His leathers are mostly watertight, a fact he's deeply grateful for as he wades in, counting on the rushing water to help disguise his scent. There's river grass at the bottom, and he's tugging at it, fingers weaving with years of practice. He could make rope in his sleep.

He gets a few long lines finished, looping them around his shoulder for later. If he's able to stake out a good spot, he can set traps, something to make noise that will alert him to run.

He goes downstream with the river for a bit before deciding it's hopefully bought him some time, stepping out on the other side of the riverbank. There's not really any good spots immediately available, but he works in a zigzag pattern, occasionally doubling back over his own scent. It would confuse the average rut addled alpha, but Max isn't convinced King Verhoeven is the average alpha.

He can feel the beginnings of a cramp in his gut, and the river had thankfully cooled him down enough to clear his head some, but he's been out of it long enough that his heat is creeping back in, skin clammy with sweat under his leathers.

Part of him is relying on the hope that King Verhoeven's other omegas haven't been this difficult, and maybe he'll give up, content to let Max go now that he hasn't immediately rolled onto his back and spread his legs.

He's not counting on it entirely though.

Finally, he gets to a rockier area of the woods, carefully picking the most likely spots for a lumbering alpha to try and barge through before securing them with noise traps. He scales the small rock face ahead of him, plastering himself low to the ground at the top to try and look across the rest of the forest.

The sun has started to dip in the sky— he's well over his head start now, and King Verhoeven is in the woods. He can see faint curls of smoke in the distance from the campfires by the delegates, but it's hard to see anything within the woods past the dense foliage.

He scoots backwards, planning his potential escape routes on the other side of the cliff face, when a pang of heat slices through him.

He drops his forehead to the ground, whimpering softly. He's been steadily ignoring the feeling of slick against his thighs, but it's impossible now. He shifts, legs rubbing together as another cramp rolls through him.

There's no opportunity to really get off— not the kind he needs, fingers shoved inside of him— but he can dull the edge a bit, rocking his hips into the palm of his hand. It'll leave a scent mark, slick and arousal and heat soaked omega, but Max had spotted a startlingly close loop of the river nearby.

He feels heat fuzzy and frozen in time, just Max trying to satisfy an urge he knows he can't take care of— and it takes longer than he'd wanted. He whines as he crests gently, barely enough to feel satisfying at all, but enough that he can start his descent of the rock face.

The sun has dipped further than he thought, and he's annoyed at the time he's lost up on the rocks. He freezes when he hears a clatter from the other side of the rock face.

The noise trap.

There's no way Verhoeven has gotten here this quickly, no alpha has ever caught up to Max this fast before— but Max doesn't know how much time he'd lost on the rocks, and King Verhoeven is no ordinary alpha.

He slips quietly back into the underbrush, making his way to the river. It will take a moment to get to the top of the rocks, and if he's really lucky Verhoeven will get distracted at his scent spot.

Max almost cries with relief when he gets back into the water. It brings with it a semi-sharp clarity, tugging away the sticky threads of heat at his brain as he pushes downstream. He's made it a few hours already, he just needs to manage until the sun is setting, and then he can get back to safety— and their people will be safe as well.

The King had promised to honor the agreement even if he didn't catch Max, and Max refuses to end up a concubine in the palace, whelping pups for an alpha he rarely sees.

He's fairly confident that's how that works, anyways.

He makes good time in the river, weaving river grass together as he goes. He'd wasted his other ropes on the noise traps, and he's not entirely sure what he'll do with these ones, but it makes him feel better to have it.

He has to break back into the forest eventually. He's been tracking the sun, watching it dip lower, and he's been fighting through the steadily increasing waves of cramps. Once he leaves the river, he has no doubt that his heat will hit in full force.

Even now, in the water, he feels lightheaded, slightly disoriented. He knows he's started his journey to double back to the delegate camps, but he's not sure how far they are, and he's fairly confident he's at his best opportunity now.

If he wants the shortest, most coherent run back to the camps, he'll have to wait here until the sun dips further. The thought makes him nervous, and he's paranoid enough already, constantly twisting his head, trying to—

He can smell rut. It's faint, but it's on the wind, which means Verhoeven is getting closer. Max can't afford to wait any longer, and he can't go back to camp, and—

He makes a break for it, darting out of the river and into the trees. He follow the riverbank as closely as possible, branches and leaves cutting into his face as he runs. He's going to want to get back in the riverbank eventually, and he doesn't want to gain too much ground, but he needs distance.

His head is starting to fog, thighs uncomfortably wet inside his leathers, balance starting to fail him. He's deeper into his heat than he'd thought, pressing his palm over his stomach to try and soothe the deep ache. It hurts, and he's empty, and there's an alpha that wants him.

Max needs to get back to the river. He can feel the walls closing in on him, rational thoughts flying out the window, and he could swear he smells—

Dirt. Alpha. Hurtneedmoreneedmoreknot—

Max hits the ground hard, wincing preemptively before the knock to his head, but it never comes. A palm cradles the back of his skull, absorbing the impact as they roll, and he immediately starts to struggle, because King Verhoeven is here.

There's a low rumble in his ear, large legs straddling his own, and despite Max's best attempts to buck him off, the alpha is heavy. He settles his weight solidly on top of Max, nose tucking tight to Max's scent gland as he holds his wrists tightly in front of him with one hand, the other still holding his head.

The first brush of his nose against Max's scent gland makes him whine, fighting every instinct telling him to tip his head back and take it.

His heat is burning him up from the inside, hot and boiling as the alpha pins him with his weight. Max is waiting for the bite, for the immediate claim, but there's no scrape of teeth— just the press of his nose, and then a moment later—

Max moans when he licks across his neck, hips bucking up underneath him. The rut scent curling into his brain demands submission, and his own heat makes him desperate, but Max isn't finished yet.

The sky is getting dark above them. If he can make one last mad dash for the camps...

He can feel Verhoeven's heavy cock against his hip, and Max wonders briefly if he'll end up beheaded for this anyways, before he swings his knee up with a vicious snarl, darkly satisfied at the wounded noise the King makes. He puts all of his strength into shoving the alpha off of him, breaking into a panicked sprint.

There's no strategy, no traps, just Max and his desperate need to get out, to get to safety, to get—

The second tackle isn't any gentler than the first. Again, somehow Max doesn't hit his head, but Verhoeven isn't taking any chances, grappling him facedown into dirt. There's a tug at his arm, and Max doesn't realize for a moment what the alpha is doing, until he feels slick river grass wrapping firmly across his wrists, tugging them tight.

He snarls, deep in his chest as he tries to buck out of his grasp anyways. Using Max's own rope against him—

There's a heavy hand in his hair, shoving his head back down as he feels a knee pin him across his back.

The river grass gets looped around his ankles as well, tugged tight. An alpha in their rut shouldn't even remember how to tie rope, but Max finds his bonds have no give at all.

He tugs despite this until there's a low growl directly in his ear, dangerous.

It makes Max freeze. Verhoeven makes a pleased noise before burying his nose in his neck again, taking a deep inhale. Max flinches when he feels heavy hands at his waist, thick fingers locating the different buckles.

He whines, a desperate attempt to make the alpha take pity on him, but all it gets him is a low rumble next to his ear, and a tongue flicking across his scent gland, large hips pressed flush to his ass.

He yanks at the ropes again, dull panic clashing with the arousal of his heat. He's never taken a knot before, he doesn't want to get bit, he's scared—

Verhoeven gets most of his leather successfully unstrapped, pressing his chest along Max's back before crooning softly.

His chest is vibrating with a low rumble, nosing into Max's neck gently, and he only realizes a moment later that the alpha is trying to soothe him. He hates that it's working, muscles starting to relax under his weight, head tipping to the side to expose more of his neck.

There's a large hand stroking down his side, like Max is a spooked horse and not a panicking omega, but the pheromones are getting to him.

His hands and feet are bound, and the sky is dark. He's missed his chance to get back to the camps in time— he's lost. Even if the King doesn't knot him here on the forest floor, by all rules, he's won the chase. Max belongs to him now.

Tears burn hot at his eyes as he dips his head to the dirt, all the fight leaving his body at once.

It's over.

A cramp rolls through him and he whines, but even that sounds defeated, and he's limp underneath Verhoeven, who makes a concerned noise before carefully flipping Max onto his back.

Like this, he can see the chase has also taken its toll on the alpha, cuts across his face, clothing partially ripped and wet. Verhoeven leans in, pressing the side of their faces together as he rumbles.

His fingers are skating lower as he peels away the leathers, Max's slick heat scent filling the air around him. He whimpers, thighs falling open despite himself, because it hurts.

He's lost anyways— what does it matter if the King takes what he wants?

Verhoeven makes another low noise, teeth scraping across Max's scent gland. He thinks momentarily of how many other omegas the alpha must have back at the palace, how many other times he's tackled and knotted someone in the woods. For a brief moment, it fills him with rage. This is the rest of his life now, by no fault of his own, and if King Verhoeven thinks he can just get away with treating Max like any other omega—

He snarls, low in his throat, chest rattling with the force of it. The alpha rears back in surprise, and it's all the opening Max needs to lunge forward, to get his teeth wrapped around his scent gland.

He catches a flash of stunned hazel eyes.

Max bites.

[no-psi-nan]

Why Torisai is more canon than Terusai

Reason #1

Teruhashi and Saiki are weirdly obsessed with each other but while Saiki knows her intimately, Teruhashi's mental image of Saiki is completely wrong.

Toritsuka and Saiki are weirdly obsessed with each other DESPITE knowing each other way too well.

Reason #2

Saiki has, at most, risked his reputation for Teruhashi. Teruhashi has endangered Saiki by purposefully sending her simps after him.

Toritsuka and Saiki risked their lives to save each other from danger.

Reason #3

Saiki has to be forced by at least 5 layers of circumstance to allow touch between him and Teruhashi.

Saiki willingly allows Toritsuka to hug him in public, including at school, where everyone knows Toritsuka is the Germ, which risks damaging Saiki's reputation.

Reason #4

Saiki actively tried to get Teruhashi a boyfriend by cheating with psychic powers.

Saiki half-ass tried to get Toritsuka a girlfriend one time, and thereafter prevents Toritsuka from getting girlfriends by cheating with psychic powers.

Reason #5

Saiki cringes at being subjected to Teruhashi's bizarre "offu" fantasies.

Saiki revels in subjecting Toritsuka to bizarre psychosexual fantasies.

Reason #6

Saiki has never made a move on Teruhashi.

Saiki canonically kabedon'd Toritsuka.

[ciagent8]

blocktales demo 4 spoilers... whatever go my silly blocktales ranting

CAPTAIN TROTTERRRRRRRRRRRRR AAUHHHGHHHGHGHHHGHGHGH

this is probably going to mainly be about captain trotter 🔥i'll leave the ancients ranting up to scrybe because they love ancient egypt. but CALYPSOOO. CAPTAINNNN

dude there is literally nobody left to live the captain's legacy except calypso probably. think about it. his entire crew died in the temple and considering how he acts + the fact his entire crew is poor, he probably didn't plunder that many people?? even if he did they wouldnt know him personally right

so the only person left to keep his legacy alive. to remember him

is the person he thought betrayed him in the end

AND. THE FACT THAT HIS DREAM FOR YEARS WAS TO GET THE TEMPLE TREASURE. AND HE HAD TO WATCH HIS CREW DIE. AND HE HAD TO DIE. WHAT THE UFCK

something something maybe theres more to the fact that he called the player "sharkbait" . evil metaphors or whatever

ALSO. WHY WAS THE PLAYER KIND OF AN ASSHOLE THIS CHAPTER??? directly going for the sword after being told not to. i know we had to but for the love of god you couldve atleast waited for captain trotter to leave the area first

also they barely batted an eye when calypso was talking after the ancients battle. literally just walked up and grabbed the firebrand card 💔

ALSO . THE FACT THAT CALYPSO STAYED TO HELP CAPTAIN TROTTER ACHIEVE HIS DREAM. THE DREAM THAT GOT HIM AND HIS CREW KILLED. IMAGINE HOW THAT FEELS ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING SHE WAS THE ONE WHO PUSHED HIM INTO THE LAVA

also this demo has been the first time we've seen a sword wielder 1. be influenced by a sword DURING the chapter, not before (captain trotter) 2. SURVIVE being influenced by a sword (griefer) also cruel king isnt important but. FUcking. "I hope the King is alright" im gonna jump bro HES DEAD

ANYWAY the ancients bossfight ost was fire. first song with lyrics for blocktales and it was amazing. CAPTAIN TROTTER'S THEME WAS ALSO PEAK . BOTH OF THEM ARE PEAK 🔥🔥🔥

just saw this im going to throw a brick at someone Oh my god why would you do that

MOVING AWAY FROM CAPTAIN TROTTER. GRIEFER CURED YAYAYAYAYYAYAYA i LOVE his new design

also he was so silly. me when he offered the player bloxys. he offered to play games with player. i really like griefer wahhhh

his attacks for his call card are sick btw. its a shame that like half the time he uses them its on an enemy with defense that he can't attack 😭

also also . uhmm waiter waiter more kyoko content please. pretty please? next chapter at least? 🙏kyoko wahhh

by the way

love this guy. hes stupid /pos i love how he goes between saying "thou" and "thy" and then saying that the housing market is awful. also yes this is an actual image that just shows up in the chapter

uhmm i still need to play pre-prologue but yeah. i love blocktale 🥺🥺

[dailyhtfboards]

Day 52

Today’s Board is:

Bugs when you lift up a rock, once again

(From TV episode 13C Autopsy Turvy Double Whammy Part 2)

[linkedin-offficial]

moment of respite

[bowietea]

"What do you mean? This is it."

[maraschinotopped]

heres another piece i wanted to make as pendog fanart! the original idea was to post this with the first piece but well. i did not finish it. because of the hecate curse.

[magpieinaglobe]

debated whether or not to post this and then I realized it's my blog and I can do what I want so woe sona be upon ye

this is genuinely one of my favorite drawings I've done,,partially because i do love me a silly "nothing bad happened" au

do not be fooled that plushie is a criminal wanted by a cult for heresy(unfortunately they cannot find him because he is in fact,, not a plushie anymore he got a body)

[927roses-and-stuff]

just when i think im done with the miraculoys fandom it YANKS ME BACK IN WITH LILA/CERISE AS AN ACTUALLY GOOD VILLAIN OMG

like you could tell me it would take 5+ seasons/an entire year to unmask her and i'd believe you. whereas with gabriel...he should've been unmasked season 2 episode 1 with the collector smh

[clock-06]

Some more PM thoughts cause they’re rattling round my brain at hyper speed now that people know about them

PM! Ford and Canon Bill would fucking destroy the universe fighting each other. Battle of two giant egos. There would be homosexual overtones of course, but they both have a craving for power and enough power to leave a trail of destruction anywhere they interacted

Canon Ford would be very weirded out and like? Not scared but primal instinct of wrong about PM!Bill, who is nice to him off the bat. c!Ford would bring up weirdmaggedon and trickery and PM!Bill would just be like “oh yeah. I was gonna do that, but I’ve honestly had a lot of fun with my Ford just traveling dimensions and helping him research. I may get back to that eventually” and c!Ford is dumbstruck and suffering from emotional whiplash. Eventually neither of them would really talk to each other and sit in silence.

c!Bill thinks PM!Bill is pathetic and a failure, and by his standards, he is technically right in both of those opinions. PM!Bill thinks c!Bill is an idiot for sabotaging the one good thing he had, but is very light around the topic. It’s very c!Bill as a kind of annoyed as fuck third wheel. He holds a lot of hate for both PM!Bill and PM!Ford, mainly hating the latter for not being the Ford of his universe, as he loves the violence and lust for power PM!Ford holds (he’d never admit it out loud though).

c!Ford is convinced PM!Ford is possessed by Bill somehow. Convinced there’s no way any route could lead to him acting like that, or be that successful. Basically 100% sure that PM!Ford sold his soul in a deal with Bill and being soulless is why he’s like that.

PM!Ford and PM!Bill have a lot of deals laid out, most of which are for Ford’s benefit and a few at Bill’s deficit (but he’s too in love to realize that). They are technically married, moreso in the legal contract sense than a ceremonial sense. Ford spurred this on, getting Bill enamored with the idea of them being together forever and explaining the human tradition of marriage in a mostly accurate way. They have matching rings, gold with a triangle surrounding a circular gem (probably something rarer than diamonds that they found while traveling) and Bill’s acts as a binding magical artifact while Ford’s is entirely mundane. Bill is unaware of the effects of his ring, and probably wouldn’t take it off knowing them (y’all don’t get to know yet sorry).

Ford can defend himself pretty well due to his tech as well as some physical enhancements from deals with Bill, so he does go on solo missions without Bill, especially if it’s to keep Bill in his loyal arsenal. A few characters try to join them, and they even have a run in with the axolotl (who is mainly concerned for Bill and despises Ford), but Bill and Ford are a very exclusive duo and the intentionally created co-dependency means no one travels with them for long. There is a point where they run into Fiddleford for reasons it’s….. gonna be fun to write and draw let’s just say that.

Ford does come back through the portal after 30 years, mainly because through Bill’s surveillance, he’s been gaining interest in this generation of pines twins, especially Dipper’s potential as a researcher.

And that’s where I’m gonna leave my infodumping for now because my lunch is ready and I have to get my mail

<3 toxic old man triangle yaoi keeps me awake at night

[afrognamedsparrow]

THE BEAST!!!

[kalied0skull]

I 🫶 U and your art

and i heart you and your asks, anon! :D

[tiredassmage]

" I lay claim to this corrupted legacy - art of my kin, my forefathers... in desperate, blasphemed hope it'll do us any damn good, for once... Damned. I'm afraid 'damned' is about all it'll get me.., and them. Mark me another fool begging for forgiveness. I merely hope it has not cost them all chances of salvation... "

aka I'm bullying him with picking up a sorta gone-wrong version of reaper sometime during his adventures in the first. an art he was barely familiarized with as lapis manalis was abandoned and the last of the reapers fled a crumbling legacy in garlemald.

in desperation, perhaps, to save his companions some of the burden of hunting the lightwardens, tyr searched his old memories and teachings for any sway they might offer over the sineaters, but such bargains are always struck with a cost, and in a world so terribly out of balance already, gambling his own life for the most fleeting tease of control over such a creature may have been a fool's bargain.

but there's little help or recourse for that now, short of carrying on to the bitter end with a shaky prayer it will not be the foolish specter of guilt with the last laugh at the curtain's fall - or his life might be the least of the casualties.

[buggmintz]

Sorry for bad quality on this one, I'll try and fix that tomorrow, but here's a drawing of my oc H in an outfit inspired by the song Rabbit Hole by Deco27! I was listening to a bunch of covers as i was drawing the traditional sketch for this one, and then decided to use it as practice for rendering and stuff it looks sooo much better than this guys, i prommyyy

(HE IS NOT N. JUST WANT TO CLARIFY THAT)

edit, fix quality

[ccaptain]

   For how many horrors humanity has to endure, there are times where life is truly, genuinely worth living.

   On the deserted planet, a purple-hued sunrise peeks between the structure of the large, rusty observing wheel. The only sound that breaks the eerie silence is the brewing of a coffee pot inside the small hut, the little intake of breath Kaeya makes at the sight; at such marvel, he's wide-eyed at the window, breath fogging the unsteady glass.

   Outline of fire digits have dragged themselves across the sky by the time Kaeya has gotten himself ready, a wool blanket and loose locks of cobalt statically sticking to it. He enjoys the natural show with a cup of warm coffee in his hands.

   The quiet continues to stretch on. Not a chirp, not a rustle of leaves in the wind. Where people have disappeared, everything continues on.

   Some times, living in this world allows him to witness beautiful sights like these- forever embedded in his memory.

[reshiram]

ahhhh chronic #yapper syndrome.............. i want to talk about myself because i like doing that!!! i like meeting new people!!!!!!!