#pls im soft for them

[mim51801]

🐺blade x caelus

[fawnim]

To our world 🥂

just a warm up to get back into the groove !! when i saw michael's post i SCREAMED and the ref was just so aziracrow coded i had to ><

if u like this, u should also check out my S2 anniversary art!

My commissions are currently open! You can check out offers and pricelist over here or donate over on my kofi! Reaching the current goal will really help my family and I, so any amount or kind of boost counts! Thank you so much!

[marimeeko]

Thought of Izuku falling from the sky and Katsuki catching him and them clinging to each other as they land/hit the ground.

Izuku starting to process everything and saying that he couldn't save Tomura but he may have reached Tenko? Also btw I think I'm quirkless, now, Kacchan, OFA is gone, I let it go...

Katsuki soothing him in an adrenaline high, breathy way, you did your best, you did your best, you're still a hero Izuku, you're the best GD hero around...

And then as everyone in 1a starts to descend on them in celebration, Katsuki literally fucking growling at them to give Izuku some space and some air, DONT FUCKING CROWD HIM!

And someone (probably Kirishima or Kaminari) complaining that HES THE ONE holding Izuku so desperately as if he'd disappear.

Katsuki telling that person to fuck off and squeezing his grip on Izuku as Izuku clings to him.

Izuku silently sobbing into Katsuki and not being able to tell which emotion the tears are from, because there are just so many.

[milkbreadtoast]

Insane....... as expected of Chestric Riasster....

[multifanbrainrot]

i'm loving "lovesick moron" juno and "vulnerable & communicative" peter a lot, please give me more of them kabert

[scionshtola]

@coldshrugs did some v lovely gposing for my birthday 💗

[stormofdefiance]

Aventurine should have been wearing a feather boa instead of a fur collar and no one can change my mind

[weird-things-first]

"No, we have to save it!"

"No, we need to fix your arm" fight me

[soccerpunching]

I guess the most precious imaginary scene I have of the break trio is just these three chilling in casual attire and eating store-bought snacks maybe on the playground or the park.

Endou and Kidou are facing each other and talking about something mundane that are important to them-- sharing their hyperfixations of a cute show probably that Gouenji also watch-- and Gouenji just sits listening to these two, back against Endou's who is being mindful about his movements despite his excitement on the topic as to not ruin Gouenji's meal. Kidou talks animatedly with a wide smile as he observes how cute Gouenji and Endou are sitting like that. He never misses Gouenji glancing at him and Endou with a smile once-in-a-while.

[bl-inkstone]

traveler, wait! it's dangerous to go alone, so have some zhongli thoughts for company!

i think life with zhongli as your significant other would be best described as the love behind every little action and gesture the two of you make. even with all the years you've spent at each other's side (either married or just simply together), the romance never dies. but it shifts and goes through changes, like stone giving way to the gentle embrace of time.

one such example is when the love shared between you calms into something that can blend in with the walls of your home. it matches the color of your curtains, the painted flowers on cups left on your tea table, the clothbound books and scrolls tucked away into the red cedar scroll shelf you had diligently sought after and haggled for when your lover had mentioned it once in passing. it's in the crinkle of your eyes in the morning when you sit at your table together and eat. it's in the shape of his smile when he returns from his work in the funeral parlor to you and the home you've made together.

when you grind ink for him while he works beside you, or comb and tie his hair for him in the morning when sleep still clings to the edges of his eyes. when he combs and washes your hair for you in soothing baths, or leans down to massage the stress of the day away from your tense shoulders when you come back home to him.

acts of service that don't really feel like acts of service — not to zhongli or you. gestures of devotion seem like a more apt term, now, when love is so ingrained in your lives that the word can no longer be used to describe it. you've turned the word from noun to adjective, from adjective to action. love is such a small word for such a boundless concept, but you manage to fit it in every word, every action, and every day leaves zhongli helpless and wondering in the dead of night of what to do with all the love he holds in his hands, specially made just for you.

it's a song and dance he can never quite stray from. even when his heart calms in the daytime and he can look at you with all the assuredness of a lover that loves and knows he is loved in return, all five thousand years of wisdom leaves him when night comes and you're asleep in his arms. he has loved plenty in his long lifetime. friends, family, even past lovers that he can only maybe recall when he can recognize a quirk or quality present in you. but it's in your presence that zhongli remembers that even an archon can become just a man weak to the war between heart and mind. what good is five thousand years of wisdom when it can't tell him what to do with all the love he has for you? how can he show it without scaring you away? you know who he is and you've said time and time before that it doesn't scare you, that you love him no matter what form or identity he takes but what if —

you shift in your sleep and all thoughts cease as he swiftly readjusts his hold as to not disturb you any further. in the dark of your room, zhongli counts each breath and beat of your heart and wills his own to match the tempo of yours. in the morning, he'll reprimand himself for entertaining such foolish thoughts while you hum and converse in front of your shared vanity. he'll share these thoughts with you as he always has, and you'll put down your comb and grace his face with crystalfly kisses as you always have in return. your routine shifts to make room for assurance during the times when he needs it, and the same goes for him when you speak your own fears and doubts as well.

it's part of the comfort of your life together, as strange as it may sound, that you live with all the joys and lows your love brings. sometimes, he wishes he can give you more and do away with all his mortal doubts completely, but a moment of contemplation reveals that it is exactly these doubts that make the softer aspects your lives shine all the more brighter. is this why you allow yourself to feel all your emotions, rather than push back and try to reason them away? is this why you've always placed so much importance in letting him know that should he ever need it, your shoulder is his to lean on? zhongli understands the rationale behind it and has given similar advice to mortals he's met before, of course, but it seems that even he is not immune to the irrationality of the heart. there is much wisdom to still be learned, he concedes. five thousand years is no match for an emotion that has existed since the dawn of teyvat, after all.

time doesn't completely erase all the insecurities of a man who has loved and lost so many in his long lifetime, but zhongli finds that he doesn't entirely mind. come trials and tribulations, he'll stand firm and weather it so long as he can keep holding your hand through it all.

[whispers-of-masser]

Poor Form

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, maybe angst (if you squint), slow-burn with tension; 2k+ word count ✧ Mentions of blood, (poorly written) fantasy violence ♫ "Ritual" - AWAY, Echos ✒ @dalishthunder come take responsibility for this

It was the grey hour when you woke, the quiet lull between full night and the oncoming dawn. From where you lay in the tent, the only sounds you could hear were the steady breaths of your companions, the breeze rustling by outside, and the lone call of a bird, faint and dim in the distance.

Slowly, you sat up, grimacing at your sore neck and shoulders – though you had long since grown accustomed to sleeping on the ground, that didn't mean you, or your body, appreciated it. You'd have to look into getting some bed cots instead. Until then, though...

At least we stay warm through the night. The oiled leather tent kept out most of the wind, and the beasts you'd felled along the journey had long since become the bedding everyone slept on.

A sudden snore drew your attention to where Khash lay, bundled in her sleeping bag beside you, red eyes shut tight and jaw slightly parted, her sharp little teeth on display. Across from her was Xelzaz, sleeping quietly on his side with his back turned towards you; you could just make out the lump of his tail beneath the blankets. And next to him...

...was an empty bed roll, the fur still fluffed, apparently untouched through the night.

Frowning, you pushed back the blankets, habitually reaching for your sword as you rose – just in case, always just in case – and, taking care not to wake Khash, crawled quietly out of the tent.

The morning had teeth. You felt it the moment you stepped outside, the cold biting into your bare arms, gnawing through the fabric of your tunic and raising goosebumps across your skin. Your breath plumed white amidst the grey, and the dirt underfoot was cold and hard; not even the morning dew had loosened it. You found yourself wanting retreat back into the tent and burrow under your furs once more, pulling them all the way over your head and falling asleep beneath their warmth. Any other morning, you might have done just that. But...

The empty, untouched bedroll.

You squinted into the mist, eyes searching, searching... there. A figure, seated on a rock several metres away, smudged and blurred in the gloom, but glinting a familiar gold.

As you lowered your sword, a sigh slipped from your lips, drawn from some strange mix of frustration, concern, and relief.

"...How long have you been out here, Nebarra?"

"Morning to you too, guar-face," the elf drawled, and though he didn't rise, his helmeted head turned towards you. A thin layer of condensation covered the metal, droplets falling at his movement; his bangs, escaping through the visor, were damp and plastered to his helm. "And all night, to answer your question. Somebody has to keep watch."

"Obviously. But you volunteered for the first shift last night." Frowning, you looked him up and down, not bothering to mask your concerned displeasure. "Why didn't you wake me or Xelzaz? We could have relieved you. We were supposed to relieve you."

"Oh yes, a human and a lizard! I'm certain I'd feel very safe with you two on watch. Your species' eyesight is so much better than an Altmer's, after all."

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing as you stared him down. It was too early in the morning for his snark.

Wordlessly, you brought up your sword and levelled it at his throat. "I can see that gap in your armor just fine. I could kill you right now – and the same goes for whatever may have come up on us in the night."

Nebarra gave a disdainful snort, gloved hand clamping down on your blade and giving a sharp tug. Unprepared, reflexes still sluggish from sleep, you stumbled a whole two steps forward before managing to check yourself.

"Poor form," the elf sneered. "You won't be killing anything like that."

Your nostrils flared, a dozen retorts surging to your lips, but you held them all in.

He's right, and you both know it.

"I wasn't ready", "I'm still waking up", "I wasn't serious" – excuses that could get you, and maybe the others, killed. How long had Nebarra seen this in you? Why was he only mentioning it now? Why hadn't you realised it on your own, that despite your confidence, your skills, your strength – you were still very much mortal? And when had that confidence become something more dangerous – arrogance?

"...What?" Nebarra asked suddenly, drawing you from your reverie. "You have that expression again. The one where you're about to do something stupid."

"Spar with me."

"Terrible idea, absolu... wait. What?"

"Spar with me," you repeated, staring into the black of his visor. "I'm getting rusty, fighting nothing but bandits and mindless undead. This just proved it."

Nebarra was silent for a beat, his head tilting to the side. Something about the motion reminded you of a bird; the eagle-shaped helm only added to the effect. You waited patiently for his answer, wondering what exactly he had to consider –

Metal, arcing toward your sword arm.

You barely managed a dodge and a weak parry with the flat of your blade – you'd been holding it low, unready. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Clearly, Nebarra was done thinking – the two of you were sparring now.

Fair enough. Enemies wouldn't be so polite as to give you time to gear up, either. And now, for once, the odds weren't in your favour: a fully-armoured Altmer veteran with decades of experience, versus you, young, disoriented, and unarmored, only a single blade in hand.

It was thrilling.

You sidestepped another swing of Nebarra's blade – only to connect with it a moment later, coming out of the feint you had failed to read.

Sharp, stinging pain. Scarlet, dripping from your arm.

He was trying to hurt you. And you were giving him ample opportunity.

You needed to ground yourself, regain your rhythm – something you couldn't do without an opening, and Nebarra wasn't giving you any.

A glint of metal on the left – block, step back. Movement overhead, an oncoming blow – raise your sword, throw your weight behind it, disrupt his momentum.

At least, you tried. Fully armoured as he was, Nebarra had an extra thousand angaids of weight behind his swing, if not more. The sheer force of his blow knock your sword out of your hands, sending you staggering back. But the grass underfoot was slick with the morning's dew, and you were moving too fast, too unsteadily. Before you knew it, your back was colliding with the ground, and all you could see was grey sky overhead – and a golden sword coming down.

Careless.

But there was still a chance.

Contorting violently, you grabbed Nebarra's arm as the blade sailed by, nicking your face as it passed. You didn't let go of his arm just yet, though. Instead, you pulled, leveraging your weight against his, abdomen taut as you used him to haul yourself upright. Nebarra, clearly not expecting such a move, found himself betrayed by his own momentum, drawing him forward and down, aided by your weight. Gravity took care of the rest, and he crashed towards the earth, twisting even as he fell to avoid face-planting into the ground.

As he struggled to right himself, you rushed to retrieve your sword; Nebarra was already rising by the time you turned back to him.

"No you don't," you growled, charging the mer, sword raised.

His hand shot out, a ward rippling to life, though it buckled slightly under your sword's impact. Nebarra staggered, his half-risen stance precarious, unbalanced.

Now. Now. Now.

Once, twice, thrice more your sword glanced off the ward – and on the fourth blow, it shattered, leaving the Altmer open to your assault.

Metal clanged as you brought your sword down, colliding with his gauntlet as he struggled to block with it, not given enough time to raise his own sword in defense. You let the blade slide off, intending to follow up with its momentum, but Nebarra didn't give you a chance. The moment the sword glanced off his gauntlet, he lunged, catching you in the abdomen and bringing the both of you to the ground.

The tussle that followed was a blur.

His sword arcing down, yours blocking. Hilts catching, blades flying, yanked out of your grasp and his.

Panted breaths, heaving chests, grappling and rolling across the grass.

A glint caught your eye – your sword and Nebarra's, just within reach.

He saw it too, the both of you reaching out in unison for your weapons, desperate to be faster than the other.

Leather-bound metal brushed against your palm – the hilt. Your hand closed around it, drawing it in close. Brought it swiftly upwards, blade against Nebarra's neck.

At its touch, he froze – and so did you. Because resting against your own neck, biting into the tender flesh, was the edge of Nebarra's blade.

Stalemate.

Ears ringing, heart racing, you shift your gaze from the sword to the one holding it.

Hunched over and straddling you, a leg to either side of your waist, there was hardly any distance between your bodies. The beak of his helm was close enough to brush your nose; your breath fogged on the metal. His gasping breaths may has well have been your own – you could feel them, swift and hot, slipping through the gold feathers that covered his face, carrying the faint scent of wine.

Of course, he'd been drinking. It had probably kept him warm through the night – and he'd still managed to keep you off-balanced for most of the fight.

You were in worse shape than you'd thought.

That, or... maybe Nebarra was better than he'd ever let on.

"...Tonight," you breathed, staring up at him. "Let's... spar again tonight."

Nebarra grunted; you could hear the sound echo faintly in his helmet. "Fine. Don't expect me to go easy on you."

A smile tugged at your mouth – you could feel your lips crack and stretch at the motion, dried out in the cold; you gave them a brief lick before answering. "What, and this was?"

Another affirmative grunt. "I'll be sober by tonight. Unfortunately."

You snorted, then fell silent once more. With your eyes, you found yourself tracing the curves of his helm, pausing at the sight of his bangs peeking through, dark and tangled threads of gold. Something about them was like an itch you couldn't scratch, and you had the sudden urge to brush them aside, or at least tuck them back into his helm.

As your gaze drifted upward, toward the visor, a glint in its shadows caught your eye. Again, you paused, staring intently into the dark.

A reflective sheen, a gleam of crimson –

"Are you done breathing on one another, yet?"

Xelzaz's voice shattered your focus, and both you and Nebarra snapped your heads toward the sound.

The Argonian stood just outside the tent, arms crossed, head bare of its usual hood, scales shimmering in the pale light. Beside him was Khash, a shadowy smudge in the mist; her wide red eyes seemed to float amidst the grey.

"Good morning," you said stupidly, even as Nebarra scrambled to get off you.

"Why were you fighting?" Khash asked. "Did something happen?"

"For your – obviously necessary – information," Nebarra sniffed, dusting off his armour, "we were sparring. And you had better get used to it. Our dear Dragonborn and I will continue to do so, apparently, starting today."

As you sat up, you distinctly heard Xelzaz mutter, "By the Hist." When he turned his head to you once more, there was something incredibly deadpan about his gaze, an unspoken, "Really?" in his eyes.

"What?" you mouthed back, blinking at him in confusion. He only shook his head, and have no answer.

"Right... Well, let's get the fire going again, and I'll see about getting us all breakfast."

At that, Khash's gaze snapped towards him. "Ohh, Xelzaz, can I have some Hackle-lo with it?"

"Khash, you've eaten almost my whole stock."

"Oh..."

"...I'll see if I can't spare a few more."

"Yay! Heh."

"Horker stew for you, Nebarra?"

"I'm too tired to say no... but I'll watch you every moment of its making."

"Yes, yes, as usual. And what of you, friend?" Xelzaz turned towards you, and for a moment, you couldn't answer him – you'd been too distracted watching the scene unfold, a smile on your face.

"Ah... it doesn't matter to me, I suppose. Surprise me."

And so, thirty minutes later, as the sun climbed through the sky and burned away the mist, breakfast was served.

But for some strange reason, all throughout the meal, you found your gaze drawn... repeatedly...

...to Nebarra.

[rosesareyellowtoo]

Don’t get me wrong, I love all of the mlm greek myths and retellings.

But what we need is more sapphic retellings of greek myths. And by that I mean give me Medusa and a blind girl.

Give me a kind, soft, sweet girl who was everything as a kid. Who had a future. Who could have been everything she ever wanted. Give me a girl who lost all hope as she lost her eyesight. Who gave up on life. Give me a girl who was still everything but refused to believe so.

Give me Medusa, who wanted to be loved. Who could have been soft and kind but was prevented from doing so. Give me her anger and resentment toward men, and toward herself. Give me Medusa who thinks she will spend the rest of her life as a villain who has nothing to offer the world except for shame.

And give me them finding themselves within one another. Give me a girl who is soft and gentle to Medusa, who doesn’t see her as a villain but as a person. Give me Medusa showing the girl that she is something whether she can see or not. Give me survivors. Give me two girls who are so seen by each other, that despite their isolating factors come together and are so completely in love with each other they have no choice but to accept it. I want cute dialogues and soft touches. I want healing and redemption. I want hurt and comfort. I want them to learn to love themselves and life, just as they love each other.

[seiwas]

Sel, hiiiiii 🤍 hope you're having a lovely day!

I was wondering more about col couple and i'm curious what do lovebirds do together in their day to day lives now that both of them can be at peace after everything that has happened? Do you think they'd have mini versions of themselves sometime in the future? (Ignore this if it's something uncomfy for you ^^)

Anyhow, i keep going back to re-read them over and over, it's just so captivating and my favourite thing yet so i love you so so much for creating this, you're also such a lovely individual here !! 🤍😭

tina darling!!! hiiii 🥹 i’m so touched that you’re re-reading omg??? 😭 pls i am sending u cookies and love mails!!! thank u so much for reading!! and u always say i’m a lovely person, but i hope u know that u are too!!! 😭 i hope you’re having the most beautiful day as well ❣️

i’m so touched that u’re thinking abt the col couple, they’re on my mind all the time too 🤧, thank u for asking this!!! 🥹

hmmm what do they do in their day-to-day now that everything’s more settled…

sorcerer work is still there, although a lot less!! and they handle a lot more on the admin side of things now (which i vaguely mention in the collection i think!)

satoru’s trying really hard to be a better partner 🥹 (whatever ‘better’ means, he’s just whipped!!! wants reader to feel all that he feels for em 🥹) & reader doesn’t ask for it, but he does all the cheesy things!! anniversary plans, those date ideas you can find on tiktok or ig reels, and he searches the top 10 romantic places for a picnic but forgets to check the forecast so it rains that day 🥹🤧😭

he tries to vlog some of it too!! for the ~~memories (and lowkey for the clout…) and posts it on his socials!! (yuuji leaves the sweetest comment and megumi gives a thumbs down 🤧) & it booms for a while but reader starts getting hate from like… 13 year olds… (he becomes a social media heartthrob unfortunately 😔) so he takes it down 😭 (and also—he sees comments on how hot reader is, some of them kind of… 😳, and he’s jealous so. nope. for his eyes only from now on!)

reader spends a lot more time w the students, or former students now, really & reader likes picking up new hobbies all the time!! trying out new things!! so there’s a rotation of the people that join in 🥺 (pottery with megumi, cooking with inumaki, yoga with yuuji (gojo joins in…. 👀🤨), dance with nobara 😭 and more!!!)

and!!! they move in together 🥺 officially 🥺 and his office is now theirs, also officially 🥹

would you all be interested in me writing more pieces on stuff like this for ‘conversations on love’? 😳

talks of children, kids, parenting, etc. under the cut

i don’t mind talking abt them having kids at all!! but thank you for being so thoughtful tina 🥺

i do love me a good papa!gojo 🥺 and i think reader would make such a loving parent too 🥺 so i can totally see it happening with them!! but!!! i don’t think it’s a priority, or something they actively think about/plan to happen 🥺

there’s definitely a lot of reluctancy with it (on both ends actually) —given that they’ve had a bit of experience with megumi and tsumiki despite being kinda thrust into it back then— they’d be more careful and conscious about it now, that if they do decide on mini-me’s, they want to be sure they can be present, in a world that’s safe and right to raise their own children 🥺

sorry this got so long!! but i hope i answered all your questions 🥹

@stellamancer tagging u here bc col couple is urs as much as they r mine 💘

[ttimecode]

hihihi look at them NOW

ough the way they hold each other always gets me 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

[lanaevyssmoved]

Gale with a whole curly girl routine is hilarious to me and I don’t even know if it’s character accurate yet thank you for the thought. I hope he has a good clarifying shampoo and deep conditioner for the amount of gel he must use

i think gale having a highly detailed and specific routine is so character accurate. for all his hygiene needs. this man grew up with a mother who still dotes on him like a prince (confirmed by tara), he was wealthy (had a housekeeper), i imagine quite spoilt (got away with summoning dangerous things as a child without so much as a punishment)........ me thinks he enjoys looking after himself and how amazing it makes him feel and has been like that for a long time. me thinks he cares greatly about that stuff and its ingrained in him since childhood

[jiatiful]

when hyunjin said that he went one day to wod and saw minho dancing with his team from soul dance in 2016 before minho joined jyp and then they met in 2017 (jyp) and when seungmin said minho probably wouldn't have met the skz members if it wasn't bc they're in the same group now and minho said he would've met hyunjin. soulmatism.