#(he's a beacon-)

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[zephyrchama]

I like to sometimes think that the OM! demons and angels have a heightened sense for noticing other beings, like they know when someone or something is nearby even if it's incredibly still and silent. But they're so used to MC being around that MC can completely slip under their radar. MC's presence is a totally natural, constant part of their daily life. For better or for worse, they're too used to it.

They're just chilling in their room, doing whatever, until MC coughs. It really spooks them. Maybe they jump a little.

"How long have you been there?"

"I came in, like, three hours ago."

"What have you been doing that entire time?"

"I dunno, just... sitting here?"

"The whole time?"

"Yeah."

👀

[lucradiss]

Thinking about how Aziraphale invented lying.

Because Crowley did not lie when he tempted Eve— he told her exactly what would happen, if she took a bite of the fruit of knowledge. She would know the difference between good and evil. He did not lie about that.

But Aziraphale gave away the sword appointed to him by God Herself, and then spun the very first lie to protect himself from her wrath.

Regardless of whether it was a small lie, it was a lie all the same, and a lie directly to God. He, an angel, told the very first lie, thereby inventing the act of lying.

Wouldn’t it be funny if I did the good thing and you did the bad one?

[keepthedelta]

cannot believe i have to stan nico hulkenberg this is such a difficult day for me

[bittersweetyrn]

big fan of essek thelyss, not the fanon interpretation, which is either "smol bean, tiny fragile elf who's a sweetheart and basically a child" or people mistakenly calling betrayal of one's home country a "war crime" and then proceeding to be flippant about it anyway, but the real Essek

pretentious motherfucker that committed treason bc he though he was smarter than everyone else

learned to float literally just to impress other rich people

canonically neutral evil

basically head spymaster of his country and master of lies but sucks shit lying to his friends

stayed bitchy even after his redemption arc

"there is nothing I would love more than to not be around you all for the remainder of this day"

a space wizard that crushed someone with telekenesis just to show off (the person was already dying)

sexy feet, nice ass, overall hottie

fell in love with a traumatized wizard of his enemy country and it was mutual despite all the betrayal

faggot

gave away state secrets to enemy wizard bc he though he was sexy

discovered time travel with his boyfriend

proceeded to say they shouldn't use time travel (bc now he's a good boy) but was willing to sacrifice everything and help if his bf wanted to use it

once confessed he had such a bad fight with his dad that his dad ran into the demon caves and never returned (essek doesn't feel bad about this at all)

young for an elf but still 120 years old, he called his bf "young man" and flexed on him about how much more evil he is

[2sw]

You have one card today. But we’ll find another tomorrow. But if you quit on us today, there will be no tomorrow.

[acepalindrome]

I really hope the animated Mighty Nein keeps the extremely stupid way they got the Beacon. They were about to just give up this weird mystery artifact, then changed their mind and decide they want it just because they don’t want the government to have it, on principle. And then cue an extremely risky and stupid plan than somehow works out just because they decided they wanted this thing in a whim.

And then they just carry around a fragment of a primordial god in their bag and occasionally use it to cheat at drinking games.

[ariadne-mouse]

doing chronomancy to give Matthew Mercer a Long Rest, like to charge reblog to cast

[followerofmercy]

I think Freminet has some of the most interesting dissonance in his self perception of any Genshin character.

Like, of the Hearthlings we know, he's one of the most emotionally mature and intelligent. Lynette might still have him beat, but after playing her hangout... I dunno. I think they're tied. Lyney is Crumbling, Alrecchino is. Well. Arlecchino. Everyone else is a deeply traumatized child or adult and Freminet seems to pretty regularly be people's emotional support. His character stories talk about getting his vision by saving a bunch of other kids on a dive that went bad. The Selkie event literally had him being a therapist for a grownass woman, citing his past experiences with all the other Hearthlings that have died or killed themselves. And he handled that situation WELL. Yeah, he seems to live in a fantasy, but goddamn he's alive and a lot of people in his position aren't so clearly something is working.

Either his or Lyney's character story talks about the time Freminet had reached out to Lyney to try to ease his burdens, which resulted in Lyney blowing up at him. That probably contributed to Freminet thinking he's not good at it, but I think the reason Lyney reacted so badly was BECAUSE Freminet is actually a good support. He can't allow himself that from the little brother he's supposed to protect.

Freminet seems to both cry and dissociate often, but like... Kiddo you are in fact the only person in this family actually processing your emotions. Lynette dissociates 24/7. Arlecchino. Lyney lies and tells everyone he's fine and would literally rather die than admit otherwise. In comparison, Freminet is doing FANTASTIC

Freminet also gets a lot out of helping people! Like anyone, he needs to feel useful and needed. He seems to be an excellent mentor to the younger Hearthlings and perfectly competent on his own, but when you put him in a room with Lyney and Lynette who baby him and insist that THEY take care of HIM, he withdraws into himself.

Like, Freminet by himself feels like a young man and Freminet with the magician twins feels like a teenager. I have no idea how old he actually is. Logically, he would be OLDER than them! He's been with the House much, much longer and his experience shows. I think it's fascinating that they love him SO MUCH and yet, they just Cannot let him help them. Which is hurting him.

(Lynette is much better about not babying him and that is probably why their relationship is so much better than Freminet and Lyney's. Also why she keeps having to mediate between them. Because Lyney charges off trying to Fix Everything and that just makes Freminet feel useless and he doesn't want to get in the way and- you get the point)

Idk. It's hard to tell what things the previous director said to him vs what Arlecchino has said to him. I'm inclined to think our Arlecchino was the one that said he cries too much, but in a "crying in front of your enemies will get you killed" way and she herself is too fucked up to realize how "you cry too much" could be damaging.

Also I try not to consider gameplay stuff when it comes to story, but Freminet also has some of the most BRUTAL animations. He SMASHES HIS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT METAL PENGUIN INTO HIS ENEMY'S FACE. He doesn't think he's the most amazing fighter, and by Fatui standards he probably isn't, but he is winning fights against most grown men.

Tldr Freminet thinks he cries too much and is a burden and isn't good at helping people when he's actually the most mentally stable Hearthling send tweet

[essektheylyss]

You know what's hilarious, if Ludinus was indeed a young man being traumatized by the end of the Calamity. Deirta Thelyss is almost certainly older than he is.

This is not relevant but I think Essek should bring this up, just to be a bitch about it.

[comradekatara]

katara’s fatal flaw when it comes to politics and also just general communication is that she cannot fathom why anyone would wish to act in a cruel manner and knowingly harm others, whereas sokka’s is that he does not understand how people can be willfully ignorant or even just plain dumb. it’s why sokka is always having to point out to katara that someone is a malicious actor who is taking advantage of her compassion and idealism (jet, hama, aunt wu, etc) because he knows that not everyone has pure, altruistic intentions, but he also doesn’t understand that king kuei isn’t just sheltered, he is also straight up an idiot (or that hahn isn’t just arrogant, he is also incompetent, etc etc) until it’s too late.

[stopcheckingurmailbox]

im not even christian but I am religious and you have no idea how much kurt means to me, he is my favorite depiction of a person of faith i have EVER seen

he is someone who stands with his beliefs, day in day out, wherever he goes, but that does not absolve him of guilt, worries, and self conscience

he is wise, and he oftentimes makes his speeches about god and the like, but it never comes of as preachy or annoying, he doesn't speak with an "im right and im better than you" tone that usually comes from these sorts of conversations, instead he commands respect from everyone around him, he manages to be able to help people with his knowledge, regardless of what they believe in

im so glad that x-men 97 is resurfacing this for me and for so many other people, his scenes with gambit in ep5, rogue in 7, and jean in 8, encapsules perfectly what im describing, and I can't wait to see more of him going forward in this season, and hopefully future ones, as the soul and heart of the x-men

[tanglepelt]

Dp x dc idea 24

Jason can feel himself being drawn somewhere in the Midwest. He’s busy with his own bs to deal with it. It’s only when he hops on a motorcycle and starts riding that way he admits it may be a concern.

One things for sure he’s not telling Bruce.

Cass, Tim and Damian show up asking him if he feels it to. They all agree it’s turned more into a pull now.

The four say f it and go off to investigate. Jason has his guns, Damian his sword, Tim his paranoia and Cass is just Cass.

Meanwhile Danny in amity park is freaking out that apparently he was the new ghost king. So many ghost had popped through to meet him. They just wouldn’t stop coming. Claiming he was calling them to greet their new king.

[birdricks]

i love the stars (j'adore les etoiles)

[feelsforsterek]

↳ TRUE ALPHA DEREK HALE SUPREMACY!!

[frumpkin-biscuits]

Essek, helping Fjord pretend to be a prisoner: can you create an illusion of chains?

Fjord: oh yeah let me just grab some manacles from our bag!

Essek, who keeps thinking the Nein can’t get any weirder: why… do you have that