#UGHHHH IT'S DONE

[octyfish]

The feeling when you finally think you're going to see Clown without his makeup...only for him to show up to the party as a different kind of Klown...

An extra thank you to @silverxcristal for helping me with some of the backgrounds and text so I could get this done. Even if it still unfortunately ended up being late.

[blueskittlesart]

the master works discourse on twitter is killing me. none of these bitches understood the game or its characters AT ALL

[oreokins]

here tumblr u can have it

[twinkhunter47]

hi.. i did some anatomy studies today.. and i turned them into headcanon art...Enjoy

[nebula-remnants]

I forgot to show u guys whoopsies

Anyways BOO moon wip

[mrvodaddy]

shirt cut meme w blitzy (ft bee who just couldnt stay out of it)

closer + shirtless under cut <3

thats all 🛐

[bam-stroker]

Some embroidery inspired by the ever fabulous @venomous-qwille's Ghost in the Machine ✨

The lines that inspired it:

Along the edges of the mend trail a procession of tiny animals, picked out in colored thread. Glimmering navy magpies dip between the slender necks of wild horses in burnt orange; an otter slinks low beneath the legs of a silver wolf; yellow cats and red foxes and a tiny trail of purple rabbits that dance along the tear, paw in paw.

the glimmering fishes with their scales picked out in cyan and eggshell blue, a forest green tortoise tucked behind the hooves of a baby pink deer. You run your fingers over the stitching—and like braille you read the faintest memories of the thread there—beloved and stored in delicate little spools, two by two. - Qwille, GITM

[biblically-accurate-dca]

@vanweek2024 day 4 - food

peep the vanny

[robiinurheart33]

Part 2

This time, it happens in Alaska. (TW for depictions of gore!!)

They’re hurt and injured, escaped just by the skin of their teeth. They’ve been hastily given the coordinates by Laswell, and barged into the quiet atmosphere of the bunker. The air tasted stale and unmoving; every surface covered with a thick sheet of dust. Soap could see the particles in the air, sunset shining through the windows, creating a strangely nostalgic picture that tickled the base of his skull.

Soap looks back at Ghost, who’s in the process of slamming all the locks on the door. He then looks back down at the wound spilling over the cracks of his fingers tightly pressed against his side, and watches as he takes a deep breath and more blood starts to spill over in morbid curiosity. He hears the blood dripping rhythmically on the wooden floor. Soap isn’t quite sure if it’s due to the stim sticking out of his thigh, but he can’t feel anything at the moment, which probably isn’t good.

I’m disturbing the peace. He thinks deliriously.

“—Soap!”

“Mmh?”

His eyes meet auburn ones, wide and full of barely concealed panic. Oh, there it is. He suddenly feels incredibly dizzy, world splitting into two pieces.

“I’m-” Soap gagged, crumbling to his knees. He’s glad there isn’t anything in his stomach right now, because it would’ve been really embarrassing to throw up in front of his supervisor. He feels hands all over his body, tac vest dropping heavily to the ground. Soap hears a loud thump onto the floor, a hand pulling his shirt up. Sorry for disturbing your peace. He apologises to the house, eyes rolling up as he hears one last shout of his name.

Soap wakes up to the sound of screaming. Which he realises with oncoming horror that it’s coming from him. Blinding hot pain sinks its claws into its sides, soap letting out a strangled gasp. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

“Hh- nggh-” Soap tries to shape the words in his mouth, but all his brain can focus on is the blazing pain at his side. He gives up, wheezing as he looks down to see Ghost pouring antiseptic across his wound. Ah. That’ll do it then. He tries to keep his mouth shut for ego purposes, somehow finding the time to try not to burden Ghost as much as he knows he is. He fails, obviously, grinding his teeth together as groans rip their way through his throat. Panic seizes up his hands, his eyes blown open as he feels wetness drip, drip, drip.

Ghost moves with ever loving speed, holding Soap down as he steadies a hand with a needle and thread. He can’t help but thrash his body away from Ghost, chest heaving. He’s saying something but Soap can’t hear anything else at the moment through the ringing in his ears. The white light burns through his retinas, forcing him to close his eyes. Hurts, hurts, hurts. It hurts. He lets out another strangled gasp, needing to consistently get oxygen in his system or he would pass out again from the pain. Soap throws his forearm into his mouth, biting down on it while his other hand claws on the floor beneath him, stilling his body for Ghost to patch him up.

Soap kept almost slipping under, Ghost tapping his face a couple times to keep him conscious as he feels the needle pierce the skin of his abdomen over and over again. As a kid, whenever Johnny’s skin got cut on his finger, he used to flex it to watch the cut open and close, feeling the strange sensation of nerves doing their job. Now, the sensation increased tenfold as Ghost pulled on the string, closing him back up again. He could feel the lines of sweat travelling down his neck, tracing the length of his spine. His hands slipped as he rubbed them over his face, labouring wheezes slowing down as Ghost placed the gauze and wrap around him.

When Ghost pulled his hands away however, Johnny’s hand shot out and grabbed his in a clammy hold.

“Stay.” He whispers, voice cracking.

Ghost looked at him for a moment, sunken eyes meeting pained ones.

“… You got it, Johnny.”

He sighs in relief, hand slipping from his wrist. He allowed himself to fully relax, as if the throbbing in his head and the wet feel of his wound went away. He could rest. He can rest. Please, can he rest?

“Rest, Johnny.” He slips under.

6

[showtheater]

soulb

[autumnrory]

the worst crime of the twenty-first century is that betty suarez and daniel meade did not kiss on screen

[vigilvntes]

OK here’s my angsty but also soft scenario:

Everybody on the team knows Adrian has feelings for you. Chris teases him all the time about how you are never gonna feel the same way. Nobody knows that you’ve been secretly dating for months.

 The team goes on what should be a routine mission, but everything goes horribly wrong and you find yourselves fighting for your lives. Adrian does everything he can to protect you, and in the process gets seriously injured.

He hast to go to the hospital, and even with his accelerated healing. It seems like he’s going to die.

You completely break down, and from your reaction it’s pretty obvious that you and Adrian are more than friends. You��d be upset if any of them were hurt, but not like this.

Anyway, you spend every day by Adrian side at the hospital, talking to him, begging for him to come back to you, telling him that you love him. It’s the first time you’ve told him that.

It takes a few weeks, but thanks to his accelerated healing. Adrian does get better in the first thing he does when he wakes back up is tell you that he loves you too.

YEAHHHH THATS WHAT I LIKE TO SEE INJECT ITTTTT

bonus points if everyone is under the impression that you hate adrian. like you constantly bicker with each other and everyone just kinda thinks that you're being fr and you can't stand his ass and that adrian is only bickering with you because he has a huge crush on you and it's the only speck of attention he gets from you. idk i think he would think it's kinda funny that the two of you argue with each other when you're with the team, and they constantly tease him and tell him that there's no chance in hell you'd ever give him a chance because you clearly hate him ... and then he gets to go home and kiss your face off and giggle about how DUMB the team are for not knowing.

so when you hear emilia tell the team over comms that adrian is down, and you rush over to him with literally no thoughts in your head other than to be with him and help him despite the chaos around you, everyone is kinda confused. when the fight is over and you're sobbing over his unconscious body, begging him to wake up and come back to you while leota drags you away so chris can pick him up and get him some help asap ... they're even more confused. except emilia. she has her "holy shit" moment right then and there but refrains from saying anything because there's more important matters at hand. she has to drive your boyfriend to the hospital before you wage war against anyone and everyone that had a part to play in his death, should that happen.

so at the hospital, you're pacing around, biting your nails, shaking. you haven't stopped crying since you saw him on the ground, blood pooling from the wound to his side. you're injured too, but every time the doctors try to treat your wounds you tell them they can't, not until you know adrian is, at the very least, alive. it's at this point that chris just can't seem to help himself. he's upset too – that's his best friend for(n)ever, but you HATE him. or so he thought. so he'll straight up ask why you're being so fucking WEIRD. why you're acting like you're in love with him, or some shit. your sad grimace, emilia's death glare, and leota and economous' (who realised on the drive to the hospital) look that says 'dude, come on??' quickly catches him up on the situation. confirms that you are, in fact, in love with adrian.

the doctors tell you that he's alive, and it's only then that you allow yourself to be treated. your wounds are surface only, easy enough to patch up, and even though you're discharged you spend almost every single day in the hospital by adrian's side, talking to him, telling him that you love him and that it should've been you and not him. some days you're forced to go home by chris or emilia, with you promising that you'll sleep (you won't) and the two of them promising that they'll stay by his side. it's on one of those days that adrian wakes up, and you're grateful that your mind won't allow you to fall asleep when you get a phone call from leota at 3am telling you he's awake.

you're still in your pyjamas when you turn up at the hospital, having literally jumped out of bed and into your car to drive over. when you rush into his hospital room, a strained, tired, dumbass grin spreads across his lips and he greets you with a 'hey, fuckhead'. you burst into tears then and there and he immediately tries to get out of the hospital bed to comfort you but emilia yells at him and tells him to sit the fuck back down before she leaves the two of you to it.

fluff ensues. back and forth i love you's. 'if you think this is bad, you shoulda seen the other guy. no– babe, it was so cool. i hit him over the head with his own hammer before he stabbed me. then i stabbed him with his own knife. double whammy.' chris turns up and questions both of you on when the fuck you stopped hating each other and started fucking instead?????????

anyway 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[jacksonleavesthe0nly138472]

Bro hehehehe, I don't know what to draw

[themightyleg]

ship poll #3

i personally think it was a wasted opportunity. Sad. Shame they gave Chakotay no personality.

[s1eepy-0]

when he has daddy issues and isn't a shitty dad himself

[m1d-45]

hidden blessings

summary: thoma takes you to the teahouse, but you two are interrupted. you don’t know whether it’s fortunate or not, but it will affect your trajectory within inazuma.

a/n: this one goes out to @shizunxie and @alexteea, who asked for a part two to small miracles. i now fear talking in the tags [/hj].

word count: ~2.1k

-> warnings: spoilers for inazuma archon quest, spoilers for ayato story quest, probably out of character ayato…. green tea?

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill

<< first part || < masterlist > || third part >>

komore teahouse is warm.

the moment the door opens, it’s the first thing you notice. the air smells of honey and spices, heated by some invisible fire. your hand is still in thoma’s, leading you behind him as he moves into the teahouse.

taroumaru sits up a little straighter on the counter as you two approach, but doesn’t seem on guard. strange, considering you’re not a member of the kamisatos, but since you have thoma with you…

“hey there taroumaru! is anybody here?”

the dog barks once. you don’t know what that means, but thoma seems satisfied, pulling you to one of the tea rooms.

“komore teahouse is owned and operated by the yashiro commission, so only those approved by the con can enter. whoever your hiding from-“ how did he know? “-can’t get in here, alright?”

he waves at a cushion and starts to fiddle with a tea set, lighting a small flame on the end of one of his fingers for the heating element. it’s strange to see such nonchalant usage of his vision… but wouldn’t that be normal here?

people with dendro visions selling herbs grown to order, hydro users automatically refilling their drinks, anemo wielders catching a dropped pen or paper before it hits the ground…

not for the first time, you wonder how you ended up in such a world.

“there! that should be ready soon. i’ve made you green tea, hope you don’t mind.”

you shake your head. even plain water would be fine to relieve the burn of salt on your tongue, and the fact that he went so far to make you tea when he barely knew you..

you lick your lips, “thank you.”

he waves it off with a laugh, sitting down himself. “oh, don’t worry about it. and please, save your breath, id hate for you to irritate your throat on my behalf.”

you swallow. salt stings. you’re quickly getting tired of the taste.

“that being said, i do have some questions, if you don’t mind. for starters, you are hiding from the shogunate, right?”

you pause, watching the fire flicker. yes, he’s with the yashiro commission, but he personally had to hide with yoimiya from the vision hunt decree, didn’t he?

you nod.

“thought so… well, the good news is that i can help you, but you have to tell me why they’re looking for you, alright?”

there it is. the fact that he went so long without asking why you were hiding is a testament to his character, but even he couldn’t trust fully when he’s so close to the kamisatos.

though, he did bring you into the teahouse…

“you stay here, and i’ll go get a notepad from the back room. if the tea’s done by then, feel free to pour yourself a cup!”

he stands up from his spot and exits the tearoom, hesitating for a moment in the doorway before undoing the string keeping the cover tied above the doorway. the mat rolls down smoothly, swaying, and you’re suddenly alone in the room.

though being ‘alone’ probably doesn’t apply in a tearoom belonging to the kamisato clan. you don’t remember seeing the girl at the front, nor have you heard the other two NPCs inside, but that must only mean there’s more security elsewhere.

and that the clan must have moved the prior personnel.

…like to hunt for the imposter running around teyvat.

no matter how kind they looked, they were still involved with the shogunate. there’s no way they haven’t heard of the situation, and have likely dispatched some of their best to find you.

and you’ve walked right into one of their bases.

suddenly the warmth in the room feels oppressive, the soft smell of green tea overwhelming. you shouldn’t have caved. you shouldn’t have agreed to come with thoma, shouldn’t have let his kindness pull at your bruised, beaten heart, you shouldn’t you shouldn’t you shouldn’t-

“-ot necessary, my lord, i-“

“-best for you. please, allow-“

words outside your room pull you from your thoughts, muffled by your heartbeat in your ears. it’s familiar but you don’t know why, footsteps and voices passing through the thin walls. three men are speaking, and are quickly approaching your room.

you tense, but settle for grabbing a spoon to try and soothe yourself. they won’t come in here, you tell yourself. you have to trust thoma.

the footsteps stop.

“is this the room?”

it’s not your room. it’s not. you’re safe in the teahouse. you have to be. thoma is on your side.

fingers fit between the mat and the floor, carefully curling the edge to roll it back up.

no.

three sets of shoes appear. two are dark, one dressier with a golden design on it, and the third are taller, heeled, with a buckle. the mat rolls higher, almost ridiculously slow, revealing details you struggle to place.

white pants. brown striped shorts. a black belt, a jacket lined with purple on the inside, yellow tassels and black gloves and you hate that you don’t know who it is.

the mat reaches the ceiling, hands you now recognize as thoma’s tying it back up.

to his side are two men. one is dressed simply, like the many NPCs around the city, and the other…

kamisato ayato.

his clothes are far simpler than his model, but he’s unmistakable. calculating lavender eyes, framed by deceptively soft eyeliner and baby blue bangs. the vision dangling off his hip, the set of his shoulders….

it’s only by sheer will that your terror doesn’t show on your face.

the unidentified man hums, crossing his arms, and thoma looked between the two of them with obvious unease. they must be the voices you heard.

“hello.”

ayato is the one who breaks the silence, and you almost wish he hadn’t. his presence is far more intimidating in person, very much so what you should have expected from somebody of his status. you clutch your spoon tighter.

“i don’t recognize them, my lord,” the unnamed man says, and something in ayato’s eyes shift. you can’t decide if it’s better or worse.

“so you’re the one that’s caught thoma’s eye.” ayato walks into the room, taking a seat across the table from you. “why?”

you shouldn’t be surprised he knew that. you still are, as information couldn’t possibly be passed all the way to him in time for him to arrive.

thoma walks in, taking off the pot you didn’t notice was boiling, attempting to break the tension by pouring out two cups of tea.

the pot hesitates over the third cup. “hisashi, would you like some tea?”

hisashi. why is that name familiar?

the man—hisashi—shakes his head, but does walk in to lean against the doorframe. “no.”

the teapot is set back down on the table, but ayato raises a hand as thoma steps away.

“please, stay. i have as many questions for you as i do for…?”

his eyes turn to you and you can feel the bitter taste of salt burn away any thought you have of responding. the tea looks too hot to drink, and you’re not sure if green tea would taste the same here anyway.

“ah, i never got you your notepad!”

thoma tries to leave for a second time, and ayato stops him again with a questioning look.

what had you gotten yourself into?

“they’re sick, and their voice doesn’t sound too good. i was getting them a pen and paper to ask my own questions before..”

a small smile crossed the commissioner’s face. “excellent job, thoma. you may leave; and please, take your time.”

thoma quickly bows before leaving with hurried steps.

ayato’s gaze returns to you, and he picks up his cup, swirling it twice before taking a small sip. his eyes sweep your figure, pausing momentarily on the hand with the spoon. you let it go, pulling your hand back into your lap, and he hums. after another drink, he sets down his cup.

“you should really try some,” he says, nodding at your untouched tea. “thoma always makes excellent tea.”

you don’t doubt it, but you’re not keen on drinking something still steaming. it may be wise to drink it, something something green tea has medicinal properties and the warmth will ease your throat…. you still don’t touch it.

his eyes flash, and you feel like you passed some sort of test.

“are the shogunate after you?”

you nod.

“do you know why?”

you hesitate. you technically do, as it’s likely the same reason you were chased out of liyue and everywhere prior, but you still don’t know why they’re accusing you of such things. you didn’t do anything initially, you’d barely gotten out your name before…

“interesting.” you look back from where your eyes have wandered, seeing his smile has grown. apparently your silence was answer enough. “you’re not from inazuma.”

it’s not a question, but you shake your head no anyways.

“and yet you know me.”

why wouldn’t you? he’s the head of the yashiro commission, a prominent figure in inazuman politics. even outside of inazuma, surely there’s people that know the yashiro commissioner, right? you know he stays out of the public eye most chances, and that ayaka handles that side of things, but still. it can’t be that rare.

ayato takes another drink of his tea. you wonder when thoma will come back. ayato told him to ‘take his time,’ but finding a pen and paper shouldn’t…

…oh.

kamisato ayato. what else did you expect?

“do you have any plans to stay in inazuma?”

you didnt have plans at all, really. you fully expected to die in the ocean, whether by the fall or the waves or the rocks below. perhaps even osial, if you were unlucky. all you wanted was food and maybe some clothes; you didn’t think you’d get this far.

you shrug.

“given your state, i doubt you can leave,” he points out. “do you even have any mora?”

the jab works better than you thought it would, the memory of the kind hilichurls sharing the mora from the chests they guarded for you to get things from marketplaces sparking defensiveness. of course you have mora, because you had friends.

“even if you did-“ oh, he is far too good at his job “-i don’t believe it’s enough for you to make yourself presentable enough to get a job.” he’s speaking to his teacup, watching the tea swirl. “so i offer you a deal.”

of course. of course he wants a deal.

“you tell me why the shogunate is after you, and i will protect you from them.”

what.

there’s no way he could do that. he couldn’t just go against the tenryou commission like that. there’s no way. there has to be a catch.

“i can see you’re confused.” if you weren’t certain it would hurt, you’d have said something sharp in reply. “thoma is an excellent judge of character. though he is sometimes far too kind for his own good, he still knows a criminal when he sees one. i am inclined to agree with his judgement, and this wouldn’t be the first time the tenryou commission has unwittingly accused an innocent.”

…huh?

the sudden tone shift sends your brain in a loop, repeating his words over in your mind. he was offering you an out? why was he willing to go so far from his duties for somebody he didn’t know?

ayato finishes his tea, setting down the empty cup on a platter. he seems to be waiting for your response, surprisingly, and the only problem is that you don’t know what to say.

you’re faced with the same dilemma again: trust, and get involved with people that could get you in severe trouble were you to be caught, or decline, and risk getting caught quicker by giving up that safety.

footsteps project thoma’s rearrival. he hesitated in the doorway, likely sensing the tension, but comes in anyway, placing down first a plain notepad, then a similarly simple pen on top.

“would you like anything else, my lord?”

“sit, please.”

thoma pauses again, and it’s comforting to know that not everybody here knows everything.

that point is driven further home when he chooses to sit next to you rather than ayato.

the commissioner himself seems shocked, his eyes widening slightly as he sits up straighter. beside you, thoma’s hands twist in his lap, and you wonder if even he knows why he chose what he did.

ayato clears his throat, catching your attention once more.

“do you accept?”