#dome of visions

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - The World Within

[gojinka]

hmmm....whats the most toxic thing one of ur ocs do

Alligator is mean and vengeful towards those who she thinks are better than her and has definitely bludgeoned Callie more than was necessary during her mud-takeover hypnosis and has to be shot by Marie in order for her to stop.

Valentine is a die hard Octarian Solider who is miserable, she’s not an ideal agent 8, the one octarian who saw she was a little lonely and gave her a chance— Valentine betrayed by snitching on her to an Elite, knowing she was a deserter because Valentine didn’t want to leave and didn’t want to be alone.

Saint chews with their mouth open.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

snap. i dreamed about magneto choking xavier with a metal collar last night. i don't currently engage with any x-men media besides your blog. snap they were based off the old movies so it was fucking. gandalf and picard in my dream

gandalf and picard is A CRAZY way to put it but also tfjWOSJAISJSN

[sillyslayer6]

genshin lore questions i need the answers to:

what the hell is being 'guarded' beneath the thunder sakura, on kannazuka?

why aren't electro visions being issued?

^ who controls visions, if not the archons?

where's the electro sovereign?

where's the cryo sovereign?

where's the anemo and geo sovereigns, if they're not dvalin and azhdaha?

what is project stuzha?

^ miss tsaritsa, why are you trying to make ragnarok happen?

literally what is the tsaritsa doing.

who's the third descender?

who's the SECOND descender?

is the primordial one celestia?

what the fuck is paimon.

is the unknown god a shade? (probably!)

why are cubes seemingly linked to primordial stuff... and why is zhongli associated with cubes? 🤨

why was specifically venti's statue used by the abyss order, in liyue?

is teyvat actually the home planet of lumine and aether? or, related to their homeland? (the inteyvat flower... 🤨)

is 'the abyss' actually a corrupted and flipped light realm that's trying to reclaim its native territory from the primordial one's meddling? or is it just purple.

why does sandrone resemble mary-ann AND guizhong?

is the big robot behind sandrone actually sandrone?

are constellations/fate written in the fake sky, or the real sky?

when will the heavenly principles wake up? and which nation will piss it off the most? (my bets are on snezhnaya, though fontaine did literally execute the hydro archon)

what did childe wake up? the narwhal?

why does skirk look like the narwhal?

how did childe, a regular human, manage to leave the domain of the archons (the abyss) and come back without being turned into a hillichurl?

what even are the wayob?

what's with khaenriah and their obsession with irminsul? king irmin, crimson moon dynasty having memory fuckery powers, abyss order loom of fate, etc. 🤨

is the abyss space/the void?

how did childe manage to no-clip into the abyss? did he actually?

why did SPECIFICALLY childe's vision stop working, and nobody else's?

when, where and HOW did he get a hydro vision?

why does foul legacy look kinda like a seelie and a dragon had a weird moth baby?🤔

who did the ancestor seelie fall in love with?

why did the moon sisters start brawling and killing each-other?

what's the tsaritsa going to do with all the gnoses? eat them?

how did peruere/arlecchino end up in the house of the hearth?

is crepus ragnvindr the 10th harbinger? 🤔

is diluc's mother in the hexenzirkel?

and so many more! (kill me)

[kazuhearted]

genshin was meant to be like disco elysium but god woke up confused that day and made it a gacha live service

god if i had the skill i would make one of those fake screenshot fanarts that people do, recreating a scene in the style of disco elysium. but specifically about that Childe lore story about the civilization growing at the base of a tree.

[kariachi]

Devin Lives au fic! Finally Geilla Bohln has a Savaran Temple.

~~

It wasn’t the most impressive of temples, one had to admit. There was no grandeur, thought there was room for it to come eventually, no ornate statues or vast mosaics. Mayhaps it could have been something more if it had been more limited, had left later expansion to add shrines rather than decorate those there. But Devin, his children, his small pack, were far from the safety of the homeworld, and he had decided that ensuring their close ties with all the gods was more important than artistry.

He was going to have to make sure Keal got proper statuary and such first after the suns by way of apology, but he had no doubt they would forgive the transgression given the circumstances. There were funds available- it wasn’t hard to get donations from the Morningstars, they had founded the pack after all- but he’d felt it better to spend the money surrounding the temple with low public buildings to ensure nothing would be built in place to shade it. Allowing that would have been an even worse blasphemy, and he’d already raised the gathering area above ground just to help prevent it. Normally one would build a temple in the highest location possible, but that just wasn’t a viable option on Earth- where digging out and building in the top of a mountain required the kind of funds even the Morningstars hissed at- and was inconvenient to the dens besides.

Better to have everyone accounted for, better to ensure the top floor wouldn’t be shaded, better to stay in a convenient location. Get everything built, finally have a proper temple with a semi-proper member of the Holyfolk to manage things. Even if it wasn’t spectacular, or perfect, it was far far better than the small, scattered shrines that had been all they had before. Something you could walk around, somewhere you could set proper tributes to a wide range of specific deities without having to force them to share, or limit yourself to just your own patron.

Yes, even a plain temple was better than no temple, and Devin couldn’t help but breath easier the first time he walked through the finished building, laying dried goods on each offering platter as he went from top to bottom. The twin suns on the top floor beneath their glass-windowed dome, the platter in the ground floor gathering chamber, the rest of the major gods on the floor below, four each of the minor gods on each of the four floors that followed.

Mainil, Tivaum, Leruv, and Vernito.

Veirum, Hegae, Faunel, and Yaon.

Mendeves, Menkaves, his Leum, and Rervon.

Vulkxhen, Menrhove, Menyuve, and Jalen.

All in good order, all with the proper offering plates, all with proper offerings, all with thanks and prayers given to welcome their presence in this place. With, he would admit, a bit a bias towards the patrons of the children- again, they would understand.

Finally, their territory had a heart.

[respectthepetty]

Thailand has the stalker vision board shrine, Japan has the secret shrine of random objects for worshiping.

Bonus for you @brother-lipsmackariah

Toh's wall for Nuea on Secret Crush on You

[invaderzia1]

enemies to lover wanderer x reader hate sex

[todayisafridaynight]

and if i think of jo being really good at extremely niche things for masato's sake who's going to stop me

[politicaljewishblog]

I have found myself struggling with this too.

Like, think about if a holy place for Mormons in the United States (/Turtle Island) was originally a holy place for an indigenous tribe. Would we really view the Mormon claim of the place as equally valid?

maybe this isn’t the most coexistence-pilled sentiment but i get so angry sometimes when i think about how people took our g-d and decided he was everyone’s g-d, took our holy texts and decided they were everyone’s holy texts, took our holy land and decided it was everyone’s holy land, and we’re expected to just accept that. goyim think they can tell us we’re worshipping our own g-d wrong because they decided he was their g-d too. they think they can criticize how we engage with our own torah because they stole it and changed it and added shit and rewrote it when it was ALWAYS OUR TORAH. they call yerushalayim “the holy land of three religions” because apparently if you colonize someone hard enough you get to claim their holy land as your holy land too and the entire world will just nod their heads right along because the entire foundation of their global society is based on the colonization of ours. and i know it’s antithetical to peace and so i push aside this feeling when i talk about actual solutions and real world actions and consequences but that deep angry part of me does think it’s complete fucking bullshit that christianity and islam get to plunder our entire culture for themselves in between mass murdering us and nobody calls them on it

[oetscop]

max fursuit .....kemono styles max fursuit....rotating it in my mind

[wickershells]

I have complicated feelings on posthumous releases in the best of times but for something to feel so unfinished & un-Sophie as this. it's sad

[aelric]

i can't believe i correctly guessed which bbc presenter was dodgy like three days ago.......

[amourrs]

sub!ellie who’s addicted to the way you taste. never mind that you’re the more dominant one, because the power is still hers— she’s functionally turned you into a pillow princess with the way she drags your lace underwear down the plush skin of your thighs every time, bite marks indented and ridged into the soft skin as she cruises her tongue across the honeyed junction between your thigh and your hip before you push her head down, rough pad of her tongue circling your clit as you throw your head back and whine at the sensation. it’s not just the knowledge she’s making you feel good that gets her off, it’s the carding of your fingers through her hair, how the pads of them twirl around at her nape and tug until her vision clouds with sweet headiness at the twinge. it’s the way she can stay down there forever— like tonight, where she’s clamping her hands down to hold your thighs in place after your third orgasm. a salty tear traverses a path down the bridge of your nose and ellie takes a second to raise her face to your own, tongue darting out to lick it off you. a mumble of “such a good girl, love you,” escapes you and it’s got her grinding into the mattress as she ducks her head back down, resting the silken dome on your quivering thigh as she slides two fingers into you. a choked sob escapes your throat as she crooks them towards her— “el, fuck, don’t think i can do any more for you, baby, m’sorry—” but she shakes her head resolutely at your protests. “know you can— you always say i can, right? s’gonna feel sooo good, promise.” the fingers of her other hand come up to twine with yours, rubbing soothingly over your knuckles the same way your palm brushes her face to comfort her when you give her the same treatment, lips pressing sweet kisses over your hipbone until they trail their way back to your clit. you cry out at the sensation of her tongue working in tandem with her slender fingers, thighs tightening in a vice-like grip around her neck as you wind your spare hand into the tangled mane of her hair, catching on knots she doesn’t seem to notice as she continues her mission as if unhindered. it’s only when you’re completely spent and your palm pushes clamming at her forehead that you can finally untense your muscles, allowing blood to flow more freely as you loosen up, head slack on the pillow as ellie winds herself around you, soft kiss pressed to your cheek. “you were so—” she begins, tone teasing and cloying as you snap a glare in her direction. “watch it. or next time something’s getting fucked, it’ll be your ass.” the copper-haired menace recoils at once, hands clasped over the flesh of her backside as she finds her way to the bathroom to run you a hot bath— although you don’t miss the tentative look she throws your way as she takes her fingers away from her body to turn on the tap, the way they linger on her skin for a second as if wondering what the sensation would feel like, how her gaze fills with a rampant curiosity— until she catches you looking and abruptly turns away, busying herself with the bath salts. interesting. you file it away for next time with a grin. “babe! don’t forget the ass— i mean essential oils,” you call, taking delight in the resultant strawberry-red blush of ellie’s cheeks as she reaches to grab them from a higher shelf. next time, indeed.

[sintechcctv]

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[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.3k - boothill finds you digging around in junk and then offers you a gift he hopes you won't refuse... [plsdontflopplsdontflopplsdont-]

the heavy metal clinking of boothill's foot steps clank their way to your shop's door. an all too familiar door he'd always find himself going up to whenever he was in need of repair- big or small. the swiveling security camera you keep at your entrance blinks with red-lit life and moves to start following his movements as soon as he enters it's field of vision.

who knows if you're ever actually paying attention to the camera feed or not though. you can be careless like that. sometimes you're just out- couldn't be bothered or could care less about the remote feed linked directly to your phone. other times, you're so focused on some project you neglect it entirely.

based on the sign hanging on your shop's door he was familiar with- it seemed that this time in particular you were out.

boothill didn't need to know how to write- much less read well- to take a wild gander as to where you had wondered off to. putting his spring loaded and metal jointed hands on his slim waist, his chin dips with an amused chuckle and shake of his head. the cowboy lifts the toe of his mechanical boot and twists his body fully 'round; his spurs scrapping across the ground during his lazy about-face. with one foot in front of the other and thumbs hooked through the hollow crops of his trousers, the galaxy ranger makes his way towards the junk yard.

it would never occur to the standard person to spend their free time digging around a scrap yard filled with junk thrown out for a reason- but you were anything but standard. if you weren't tinkering around in your shop or finishing up a repair or commission, you were scrounging around the grounds for material or 'hidden treasure'... which was key for just slightly more valuable junk.

a typical haul for you would be a few pieces of scrap metal you could use for wielding, the rare unstripped screw or loose gaggle of bolts, and all sorts of wire. if it saved you a few credits by finding material instead of buying them, you weren't one to argue with free trash.

passing under the wire-metal gate leading into the fenced-off territory, his thumbs still tucked into his pant legs, his ears stay sharp. listening for any sound of you digging around in some heap while his head swivels back and forth to try and catch a glimpse of you.

"ey, sugar, you around!" boothill shouts, one of his hands detaching from his hips to cup around his mouth. he wanders further in, gets more ground, before calling out the same sentence a second time. shaking his head in bewilderment on how far in you had gone digging, he goes even further still and tries calling out a third time.

"here!" you finally answer back. your voice echoes around him, bouncing off the scrap metal and spooking the rats and other critters that call the junk yard home. his head turns in the direction of your voice, the way his body leans towards it before his feet start carrying him that way never took notice in his own mind.

eventually, he makes it to you. squat down to the ground, under the rusty remains of some poor saps long eroded escape pod from whatever solar system they crashed in from. he crosses his arms, then his ankles, leaning his metal shoulder on the ruined dome you were digging under.

the ranger had no idea how long you had been out here, but judging by the half full bag you kept on your shoulder and the grease sticking to your neck and exposed skin he could guess it's been a bit. he chuckles when you dig out a rusted, broken pipe of... something, before tossing it over your shoulder with a disappointed click of your tongue and looking up at him. your cheeks had some gunk on it too, probably from you wiping the back of your gloves on it.

"fancy diggin' around in junk?"

"it's not all junk."

"the fudge it aint," he scoffs. to him, it absolutely was all junk. "this aint called the dang junk yard for nothin, sugar."

"it's a scrap yard."

"stubborn-bottom." you move to stand up, clapping your gloved hands together before taking them off so you could use your hands more freely. "good to see ya took my advice and startin' wearing some forkin' gloves around here." he eyes around at all the rust and sharp metal. "gonna get tetanus or somethin', and we can't have that."

"im liable to get tetanus from you before anything else," you joke so straight-faced it didn't feel like a joke. his crossed arms drop along with his jaw and his stance straightens as he uncrosses his ankles.

"ey', i aint as forkin' filthy as you pretend i am, and you know it." you shrug with a half smirk that was so dismissive he was tempted to keep arguing. you push the goggles you were wearing over your eyes to avoid getting anything in them and possible irritation onto your forehead. seeing the contrast between your sweaty, grease and dirt marked skin and the clean skin that was protected under the goggles had him scoff. "yer filthier than i am, by the look of things."

you roll your eyes and move to climb out of the rusty treasure trove of junk you had deemed no longer having anything of value. reaching out, boothill offers you his hand. you take it easily as he starts pulling you up and out to stand in front of him. your hand drops from his when you stand safely in his bubble, and he isn't sure if you know how close you are or not.

your nose is always so focused in tinkering around or messing with work that you can't always... read the room so to speak. its endearing, until it gets frustrating anyway.

"so, what're you here for this time? need something fixed again- i swear if you already burned through that new servo i replaced a month ago, im going to take off your arm and you won't get it back for a week."

"well, that's awful sweet of you." you knew by his dry tone and sneered lips that exposed his sharp teeth that the word sweet was definitely supposed to be a different five-letter word starting with 's'. one that his broken beacon (which you refuse to fix out of entertainment) wouldn't allow him to say.

"seems like an appropriate consequence to me, considering i don't charge you for repairs."

"i ain't here for not goose-dud repair," he hisses. "i had planned on givin' ya somethin', but based on your sweet attitude i aint so sure about it now."

"you brought me something?" he nods. "from a different solar planet?" he could see the curiosity start to ignite in your eyes. he nods again. you stuff your gloves into a pouch in your pants that he swears you've sewed another pocket into, before you're marching away from him and towards the entrance he had marched from at the beginning of this search. "well come on, let's get a moving!" you shout over your shoulder.

his synthetic voice chuckles at your back. eagerly waltzing after you.

boothill soon finds himself sitting with his knees apart and comfortably lounging with his arms on the back of your worn-down, two-cushioned couch the moment you two got back to the shop. he had taken himself to your quote- reception room, as he waited for you to unload your finds from the junkyard (meaning you just took your bag, flipped it upside and let its content spill out unceremoniously onto your worktable before you would eventually sort through it at a later time).

the tapping of his metal toes against your floor echoed dully against the rug under the sofa as you soon made your way to stand in front of him, hands on your hips and an expectant look in your eyes. flicking the brim of his hat cheekily to get a better look up at you, he lifted his chin.

"my attention is yours," you dramatically sigh, hands flaring to your sides before bouncing back against your legs.

"im flattered, sugar," he jests back. still, he shifts. the small pouch he had strung to his belt that was home to his array of extra fire rounds was soon detached from him. the string of which was used to tie it to him previously, hangs lazily from his metal fingertips. with a raised, semi-skeptical brow, you carefully take it off his hands.

"if this is some sort of prank," you warn. his hands raise in the air with his elbows still resting comfortably on the back of the cushions he was leaning against, gesturing that he meant no harm.

slowly- cautiously- you pull open the bag and remove two different items that had been nestled safely inside.

tossing the now empty bag onto the couch next to boothill's leg, you took each item into one hand and looked between them. one was a small crystal that was no larger than the center of your palm. shining a swirling color of green and blue, you could only imagine that it would look even prettier properly polished and with a light shining behind it. in the other was a small box, one that could be opened with a rusty lid. giving it a small rattle revealed something to be inside. doing so revealed a small robot that had been covered in rust, missing a robotic arm and wires spilling out from under the cracked and broken screen that would most definitely have acted as it's face.

"what's all this?" you ask softly. boothill stands from his lackadaisical lounging on your sofa to come and waltz up to your side. he pointed at the robot sitting sadly in the container he had brought him in first.

"i found this lil fella and thought you'd have a gas fixin' him right up. as for that," he points to the crystal of dual-swirling shades next, "accordin' to my scanners, that there's a pretty dadgum power source." boothill takes the small crystal from your palm and hovers it just above the robot. "it suits him, don't it?" he chuckles.

in truth, the slightly dingy looking crystal shard was too magnificent compared to the busted and rusted robot. but, with a bit of work, repair and love, perhaps the color of the crystal really would look nice against polished sheet metal.

"i figure givin' you somethin' else to tinker with would be more... enriching than just your usual forkin' machines." and it could keep you company, but he didn't say that out loud.

when you would get it working like he knew you could, maybe you'd stop and think about him while he was away chasing his reality out as a galaxy ranger. if you could just spare a single thought towards him every day because of a small robot and shiny rock? he'd be tickled pink.

"he's cute," you whisper gently and boothill wonders if you know you said it out loud at all. he chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the designed dents atop his cowboy hat. taking it off his head, he gently drops it onto yours, gaining your attention back from the gifts he had given you.

the way you lift your eyes to look at him- filled with something akin to excitement and fondness- and gently cradle the small rusty robot with his hat now shadowing your face, he could almost hear the wires in his chest running on turbo. he'd had to cool down asap before he overheated or crashed.

taking a step back- for his own sake- he leaves his hat on your head before patting your back.

"get to it," he softly tells you. you mutely nod, an excited smile breaking out over your lips as you trot towards a different room. it was a small private work space you retreated to for personal projects. boothill was one that was usually allowed inside since this room was where he would get his tune ups most times.

with boothill following your back, he watches you trot to your work bench. you gently set the robot's box down and remove it from inside. the crystal you submerged in a bowl that you soon fill with polish to let it soak. it took all of ten minutes before you're surrounded by tools and wires and equipment made for digital repairs. all the while boothill remade his comfort in a worn-down rocker you kept in the corner, content on staying put until he was forced to leave. whether it by your or by his next bounty.

he couldn't very well leave you with his hat either, even if it looked better on you than him.

the next time boothill comes into your shop after that gift drop off, it wasn't a visit but a proper repair. running out of cooling agent for his internal hardware was just waiting for a disaster to happen. his synthetic-coded laugh burst into the room jollily as when he sat down on the stool he always planted his ass in for repairs, a small, shiny robot- with the cutest digital expressions and a small blue-green swirling crystal placed in the center of its chest- was waddling across your work bench. a vile of blue cooling agent the near size of his small metal body grasped tightly in its robotic arms.

it chirped happily with a digital reverb when you thank it for bringing the coolant over.

boothill was indeed tickled as pink could get seeing you already attached to the lil fella. he wondered what you named it.

a/n: smol robot go beep-boop (i love the idea of mechanic!reader just having a cute lil guy to follow them around like a puppy :(( [big thanks to @/birinboom and my partner for letting me pick their brain on what gifts boothill ended up giving to the reader bc i had no idea lol smooches <3]