#the act of creation is a joy but I wish I could do it without it draining my energy dry 😭

[rileys-battlecats]

WHY must the act of creation be so tiring. is it not enough to simply have The Vision

[toto-the-cactus]

I started to write this very innocently and planned to make it NSFW but I did the mistake of watching the episode 7 of Dandadan and now instead of horny I want yall to be sad. Ovulation manifest in a very fucked up way for me and I will not suffer alone. Teehee.

Credits where they are due. This ask from @moodymisty is the reason that inspired this... I dunno, AU?? But kudos for them. This idea was really good so I just decided to expand it.

If this get that much attention I'll may think in doing a part 2 where you go and take Angron's ass back without the nails this time, ajua!

Summary: As a perpetual, you have been by the Emperor's side for most of your immortality. There's no name for what strange dynamic you both share, but you do trust him and your loyalty eventually pays off over millennia once he fulfills an old promise he made during your first ever encounter.

Pairing: Emperor of Mankind x Perpetual!Reader (Female)

CW: Slight NSFW

Part 1 - Part 2 - ?

The Mother

“I know you’re still angry”

You hated how He phrased that. He knew very well that you were furious at him more than anything and yet the Emperor voiced it as if you weren’t mourning the loss of the children that you were supposed to call yours.

Erda had warned you plenty of times, looking between a mix of sadness and resignation as she knew very well how much of a tangled mess were yours and the Emperor’s relationship over millennia. Even as a perpetual, you never could come close to understand why He acted the way he did, but his reassurances and sweet-nothings made you easily into crumbling sand between His fingers. So much that when he finally answered your plea for a family, the joy of it had overrode your common sense.

Your genetic composition, while still powerful, never seemed to take and each attempt for a baby to grow inside the gestation capsules ended in failure and that eventually made you grow distant and despondent towards the Emperor, who, for once, seemed to understand your gloomy emotions and gave you some space until a solution could be found.

And it did… in the form of your best friend Erda. She had been ready to reject the proposal of giving her genetic stock, but her own loyalty to the Emperor and her love for you was enough to convince her with still some reluctance along the way.

You hadn’t even cared if these children carried your own blood or not. This was the one thing you had found yourself craving for so long and it was becoming reality.

The Emperor had made it very clear that these creations had been made too to serve as aids for the Crusade, not simply to satisfy the promise he had made to you all those centuries ago.

At first you didn’t heed his warning, too enthralled at the overwhelming emotions of seeing these tiny babies take form.

Your children.

A part of you had been too arrogant, too naive to believe that you could convince the Emperor of Mankind to drop this plan of his to raise kids as pawns of warfare. You had wanted to thrust that a part of Him still would hold the same tenderness that he had always reserved for you like the very first time. So you kept talking to the gestating children, whispering words of love and adoration. You sang them lullabies of long forgotten times and teared up when some would instantly react at the soft tones of your voice.

You have even dreamed with the little one that had shown immense psyker power.

So it broke you beyond repair when Erda came back to you in distraught, explaining what she had done with the developing Primarchs once the Emperor had been still adamant and unmoving to his plans.

The fate of your sons had been decided and your friend had been desperate to try and stop it.

Now you lost everything, all your happiness had been taken away and as much as you wished to blame Erda too, you only held her shoulders in a tight bruising grip (she looked at you surprised, unaware that you possessed such strength) and stared at her dead in the eyes with a voice that commanded nothing but attention.

“I’m willing to forgive you, Erda… I am… but you must earn it” you said with a clear tremble in your voice, a painful knot stuck in your throat at the impotence of the whole situation. “Please, please… go find them! Find them so I can retrieve them and hold them at least for the first time!”

So she did, in the silence of the night and away from any prying eyes.

Once alone in the privacy of your room, you cried until the pain bled into painful sobs of despair.

It was in the aftermath of your spilling emotions when the Emperor came to you in a mockery of comfort, his huge hand encased in his golden armor caressing with immense care your body. It was a shame that he had some truth to his words, for your anger simply made you feel like his attempt of compassion was cold and mechanical in nature.

A detailed script where the husband consoles the wife that He must follow. But as fast as the burning anger came, it easily simmered down by the constant sorrow. You felt hollow and as much as you wished to keep ignoring him… you needed the little love he still professed for you in rare moments.

“No, my love… I just feel empty now” your voice conveyed it, for it lacked anything beyond the trembling of a sob.

“Then let me help you” the Emperor expressed with an unchanging expression, but the way he whispered those words felt like the sweetest caress.

You breathed deeply, a few stubborn tears still escaping because how dare he speak to you like you were the only thing that he cared for. You had grown accustomed to this weird and shifting dynamic you both had and yet he did things like this that disrupted the routine and reminded you why you fell for him a long time ago.

You had seen him as a man, nothing more… and he had thanked you for that.

This time you had to choke a sob down before speaking.

“How?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he got up and took his golden armor piece by piece.

It took a while but you were a patient woman with little to no motivation to move at the current moment. This was your room, the single place where no one was allowed to bother you two and so could take any sweet time.

Once finished, his warm hand held your head carefully and left your neck exposed to be kissed and licked at his whim. You were ready to try and tell him to hold on (you would never dream of being strong enough to push him off of you), but the bite on your shoulder forced a breathy moan out of your lips, wilting your weak attempt at stopping.

You still felt the sting of pain at the loss of the children and these actions only fuelled the new emotion of guilt brewing inside you.

Why was he doing this to you? How would this help your broken heart?

“Let me make it up to you… by giving you a child in the only way we haven’t tried” his voice reverberated within your ribcage with the undertone of a growl that accompanied his words, catching you immensely by surprise with such insane proposal that you didn’t even realize when he took your undergarments out until a soft grace to your clit grounded you back to reality.

“Ah~!” you moaned this time louder, completely caught off guard by a sensitivity that you don’t remember ever having.

The onslaught of sensations dazed you, the tears flowing steadily now that you weren’t sure of what to feel in that moment.

This was a distraction, a way to appease you and sooth the sorrow… and you hated that it was working little by little. His words truly echoing inside your mind with the strange mix of guilt and excitement clashing within your body without mercy.

Yes, you wished for a child to hold. To love and care.

His enormous finger breached your entrance, the wetness having been built easily enough as his thumb hadn't stopped on his ministrations to your swollen button. His lips rarely leaving your skin without a kiss or a bite to lick, descending and going down, down.

Then… you saw it. Behind the shiny droplets of tears through your eyelids, a vision of a future that greeted you with a promise.

The children… they were alive.

You sensed the very longing of your heart, the feeling of rough scars being caressed by your gentle touch as an apology for not finding them fast enough.

You saw yourself holding a heavy blanket, a peaceful infant between your arms and a whisper of a name that seared in your memory.

‘Horus’

In this thesis I present today, I'll explain how all the goddamn heresy could have been prevented had the Emperor not sucked ass at speaking with the tactfulness of sandpaper over an open wound.

Anyway, hope yall liked it <333

[autistichalsin]

One thing that gets me in a good way is how repeatedly Halsin says or implies that traveling with you is one of the best memories of his life, highlighting just how miserable he was as First/Archdruid.

Asking how he's faring at camp in various scenarios in acts 1 and 2:

A fine respite from the world's troubles, this camp of yours. I daresay I may rest more easily here than I did at the grove... ...and certainly better than I did while languishing in the goblins' cages.

And

Wonderfully! If I'm honest, the grove was too comfortable for my tastes; I felt removed from nature.

And

I'd rather the shadow curse didn't linger just beyond the campfire... but your company more than makes up for it. It's not easy, seeing the ravages of the shadow curse... but your camp is a most welcome solace. You've shared your fire with me, your company. A small pocket of light against the darkness, but one I couldn't do without. Thank you.

After being asked if he'll miss being First Druid:

Miss it? Oh dear no. It's a terrible burden; takes you away from nature and forces you to deal with others' problems and personalities[...] I'm just glad to be out here amidst the Oak Father's creations.

In the epilogue:

The Oak Father has been kind to me this past while, yet I cannot forget the bond we all forged together. It is one that can weather any distance, any passage of time. I know it can, for I feel the longing for old friends in my heart each day.

And, lastly, from Halsin's letter to the player in the epilogue, if the player never broke the Shadow Curse, causing Halsin to stay behind in the Shadow Cursed Lands:

My friend, I was truly heartened to learn of your success in the fight against the Absolute- the whole of the Sword Coast and beyond owes you a debt that can never be repaid. I dearly wish I could have joined in your moment of celebration, but the Shadow Curse remains, and so my vigil must continue. Perhaps I shall yet discover a way to restore light to this place, but until then, the memories of my time traveling with you shall sustain me through all manner of hardships. If the Oak Father is kind, one day I shall feel the warmth of the sun and know the joys of your company once again. Yours until the end, Halsin

This one is particularly poignant, because while facing darkness that might last the rest of his life, he specifically points to the short time he knew the player's friendship as getting him through the difficult memories, with not a single nod to anyone else- not from the Grove or elsewhere. Maybe it was an example of recency bias, but it still hits hard.

Traveling with the player, even with the threat from the Absolute and everything else, really was one of the best memories of his life, just because the camp of weirdos were the first ones to want him for who he was- platonically or otherwise. He could be himself, be free from the burden of leadership, and still do good. Which is one of three things- the others being breaking the Shadow Curse and having a child- that he wanted the most. And in the good ending, all three of these come true for him.

[j4gm]

Simon's Inferno; Fionna & Cake and the nine circles of hell

I don't usually do this kind of thing, but I happened to read the first part of the Divine Comedy recently, and after hearing Betty mention wanting to dig to the Devil I've been wondering if there were any deliberate (or accidental) parallels between Dante's Inferno and Fionna & Cake. This is gonna be a self-indulgent exploration of that idea.

If you don't know, Dante's Inferno describes the author's self-insert journey through the different layers of the Christian Hell. Each layer, called a circle, represents a type of sin. It was written in the early 1300s and is where pretty much all modern depictions of Hell originate, including Adventure Time's Nightosphere.

Simon, of course, is the mortal Dante of this story, and the one who makes the journey to the centre of the Earth. Just as we join Dante while he is "lost in the woods" and contemplating sin, we join Simon while he is at a loss about what to do with his life.

Fionna Campbell and the First Circle (Limbo)

The First Circle of Hell is an interesting place, because it is reserved for those who are virtuous and without sin, yet simply didn't know about Christianity. It is full of people who were born too early to have heard of Christ, or born in the "wrong" parts of the world and raised with the "wrong" religion.

Compare this to Fionna's situation. She knows nothing about how the Multiverse works or her world's place within it. She is completely unaware of the illegality of her world's existence, and is innocent in every way, but is still expected to suffer the consequences as if she has sinned.

Inferno is interesting for the fact that it acknowledges how unfair this is. Similarly, we the audience are expected to sympathise with Fionna.

Simon Petrikov and the Second Circle (Lust)

Simon becomes so disillusioned with his world that he mistakenly believes everything will become better if he is able to reunite with Betty again. He is allowing his actions to be swayed on a whim by the mere memory of the woman he loved, and his actions could have dire consequences for those around him.

At a stretch, Choose Goose can perhaps be considered the Minos to whom Simon recounts his sins, although Dante didn't actually end up having to do this.

Cake the Cat and the Third Circle (Gluttony)

Cake is gluttonous in her consumption of everything that Ooo has to offer. Aside from literally overindulging on magic fruit at the market, she is also infatuated with the magical world she has found herself in, and with her new ability to talk.

Simultaneously, we see Prismo being gluttonous in his consumption of Finn and Jake content. He misses Jake, and is addicted to the false relief of watching them play out their past/alternate adventures.

Prismo the Wishmaster and the Fourth Circle (Greed)

The difference between greed and gluttony is sort of narrow, but from what I understand, gluttony represents simple overindulgence, while greed is the more sinister act of hoarding vital resources from others.

Presumably, Wyatt's wish in this episode would have reflected his greedy desire to have Tree Trunks all to himself, and we know he has already done terrible things in pursuit of that desire.

Perhaps Prismo's creation of Fionna World can also be considered an act of greed. The creation of an unauthorised universe is apparently dangerous, but Prismo disregarded this danger. He also disregards the possibility that using Ice King's head as a covert hard drive might be somewhat unethical.

Destiny and the Fifth Circle (Wrath)

Dante depicts two forms of wrath; active wrath, in which the enraged battle above the slimy waters of the River Styx, and passive wrath, in which the sullen sulk beneath its surface. This dichotomy is reflected by Farmworld Finn, who is a passively wrathful agent in a very actively wrathful world. Finn is haunted by past traumas and losses, which have turned him into a person unable to find much joy in the world. Characters like Big Destiny and Peanut, on the other hand, are constantly at the throats of both enemies and allies.

Jay and Little Destiny are both equivalent to Phlegyas, who exists on both sides of the dichotomy and sails the protagonists across the River Styx.

The exit from the Fifth Circle represents a major turning point in Inferno, as Dante and Virgil require the divine intervention of an angel to open the gates of Dis and progress. Simon and our heroes require a similar intervention, which comes in the form of the jewel that lets them reprogram Prismo's remote, opening the gates to the rest of their own journey.

The Winter King and the Sixth Circle (Heresy)

Heresy in a Christian context is the rejection of a core aspect of the Christian faith. This episode shows us a world which rejects a core aspect of what we understand about Adventure Time; that Simon putting on the crown would transform him back into the mad Ice King with no hope of regaining his sanity.

The Winter King himself is the ultimate heretic, because not only does he oppose the doctrine as it is understood, but he knows that the heresy he is spreading is false. He knows that there is no true way to overcome the crown's madness, and he hides from our Simon that he is deflecting it onto Princess Bubblegum.

The Star and the Seventh Circle (Violence)

I mean this one is fairly self-explanatory. The vampire world is the most violent place that our protagonists visit.

Dante divides the sin of violence into several specific parts. One part is violence against neighbours, which is represented in this episode by the conflict between vampires and the rest of the world's inhabitants. Another part is violence against the self, which is reflected by Bonnie and the Star's mutual suicide at the end of the episode.

Violence against God, violence against Nature, and violence against Art are more difficult to pick out among this episode's plot. I mean, Dante himself would probably argue that the gay moments represent sodomy (violence against Nature) but I'm not a homophobe and neither is anyone on the crew.

Jerry and the Eighth Circle (Fraud)

I think this is the only episode for which there is not really a compelling parallel. The Lich was a victim of seduction, since reaching his goal has not brought the satisfaction he expected, but he is not a perpetrator of any kind of fraud. BMO pretends to be Princess Bubblegum I guess.

Slightly more compelling is this episode's b-plot, which features a neglect of duties by Prismo and Orbo that could amount to the fraudulent acts of simony or graft. But this is tenuous.

GOLB's portal, or the entrance to the final circle of Hell, appears within the Lich's resting place which is a giant's coffin. The entrance to the Ninth Circle in Inferno is also flanked by giants.

Casper & Nova and the Ninth Circle (Treachery)

In Inferno, the centre of Hell is the centre of the Earth, and is where Satan resides. Just as Satan inhabits the centre of the Earth, GOLBetty inhabits the centre of Adventure Time's Multiverse, surrounded by asteroids that represent universes, which themselves can be imagined to represent the circles of Hell as I've discussed throughout this post.

Satan's maw is reserved for the greatest traitors in all history, who in Dante's opinion are Brutus and Cassius who led the assassination of Caesar, and Judas who betrayed Christ. The Lich is our Judas. Just as Judas betrayed God by getting His son murdled, the Lich has betrayed God (or "the boss") by seeking to end all life. And just like Judas, he is condemned to an eternity of suffering at Satan's own hands.

The dream sequence at the beginning of Casper & Nova is also a very direct and probably deliberate reference to this circle of Hell. Aside from the three aforementioned traitors, those who commit treachery are frozen in ice in twisted and mangled positions. We see Simon in exactly this situation, when his frozen corpse is stuffed in the freezer. If he had put on the crown he would have been committing a massive act of treachery upon Betty, who sacrificed everything to make sure he would live as himself.

Cheers and the climb to Purgatory

In Inferno, Dante and Virgil begin the climb out of hell with the help of Satan himself. The journey up proves to be much easier than the journey down. The same happens to Simon; he is helped on his way home by GOLBetty, our Satan.

Having journeyed through Hell, our protagonist finds himself back on the familiar surface of Earth, but in a new place. For Dante this new place is Purgatory, where he must come to terms with his own sins. For Simon this new place is psychological but similar; he must reckon with the things he has learned about himself, chiefly his ignorance of Betty's desires and his aimless lust for her company, and move forward to a better place.

Conclusions

I have no education in classical literature and I'm sure all of this comes across as very surface level to someone who's actually studied these things, but I did my best.

Let me know if you've spotted any other parallels, or if you think there's a better way to sync up the various episodes/dimensions with the circles of Hell.

It could be confirmation bias but I think there was at least a little deliberate intent behind some of these parallels. Perhaps I should hold off on reading Purgatorio in case it spoils the potential season two for me...

[fandomworld9728]

Team Free Will - Chapter 2:

Hiding behind a tree, Lucifer watched as Adam was playing with the ducks. He looked so happy; it made the angel smile. Could you believe it? The first man was brought joy by one of Lucifer's own creations! He even liked the name that Lucifer had given them enough to keep it! 

"Oh, Lucifer! There you are! Come over here!" That smile got bigger once he saw him. It made something warm bloom in his chest. The same warmth that had appeared when they had first met.

"Adam." Flying over, he took a seat next to the first man. "How have you been?"

"Good. Though, it's a little lonely since Lilith doesn't wanna be around me?"

What? That didn't make any sense. Why wouldn't anyone want to be around Adam? He was so curious and full of life. So confident but still so sweet. He was so much fun and never failed to make Lucifer laugh. Maybe he could help them get closer? He didn't want poor Adam to feel lonely. Especially since he couldn't always come to the garden.

"But that's okay, because you're here."

Oh. If that didn't make Lucifer's heart melt, he didn't know what could. "You are such a sweetheart. I wish I could be around more."

~

"There you are Lilith. What are you doing here? You know you aren't supposed to go near this tree."

Surprised, Lilith turned to see her favorite little angel. She had just managed to pluck one of the apples when he showed up. If she wanted this to work, she had to be careful. Lucifer was a lot smarter than he acted. Smart, but also young and naive for an angel of his rank.

"Lucifer, I know you and your mother believe in free will for us humans. I wanted to gift Adam's new wife with this fruit of knowledge. Is that so bad?"

"Lilith. You know it's against the rules- wait... did you says Adam's new wife?" 

Oh. That was her way in. As much as she hated the angel's love for the first man, Lilith could use his feelings to her advantage. "You haven't heard yet? That is surprising. I thought he would have told you first. I mean, you two are so close."

"I-I have been gone longer than planned. And I saw you here first, so I haven't seen him yet. Maybe he planned to tell me when I saw him next. I should..." Should what? He wanted to see Adam so badly. But he didn't want to get in the way of him and his new wife. Why did it hurt?

"If you are set on visiting him, I must warn you that you may not like what you see. They are meant to populate the garden."

~

He should have listened. He shouldn't have gone looking for Adam. If he hadn't gone looking, he would have seen it. Adam laying on top of his beautiful wife, making her experience such pleasure Lucifer could only dream of having a chance of feeling. The man who usually made his chest bloom with warmth felt him feeling cold. Like someone ripped out his heart. He couldn't stop the tears that fell.

"Lucifer...?"

He could hear someone call for him. Was it Adam? He was looking at him so maybe...? However, the angel was too far gone in his own misery to really register anything aside from the pain and hallow feeling. Without a word or second though, he flew back off to Heaven as fast he could.

He just wanted to be alone. To get rid of this horrid feeling. Wanted to do anything to make it go away or at the very least lessen. As soon as his bedroom door was locked, Lucifer let out screams and wails that shocked all of Heaven. 

When his mother was finally able to snap him out of it, she told him about happened. He felt so bad for all the sorrow he ended up filling the other angels with when they heard his cries. 

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[cartoonfanaticmonsterrobotalien]

Solar Opposites: The Rise of The New Order Ch. 1 (by @avaveevo)

20th Century Fox Presents…

Korvo: *narrating* Once upon a time, there was a glowing planet, known as Shlorp. It was ruled by the New Order. Shlorpians that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Terraformus was one of these Shlorpians. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But, he was seen as an outcast by the elders of Shlorp. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So, he watched as the Shlorpians began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Shlorp, were born Aundrayus and Jessica. Equals as the first of Shlorpiankind, but despite this, Aundrayus demanded control, and Jessica refused to submit to his will. She fled The New Order. Drawn in by her fierce independence, Terraformus found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering Shlorp’s Knowledge to Aundrayus‘s new bride, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into the planet. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Shlorp worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, the New Order cast Terraformus and his love into the part he had created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Terraformus lost his will to dream. But Jessica thrived, empowering Shlorpiankind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Shlorpians grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, the New Order made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an Execution, to ensure Shlorp and its most wanted could never rise against them. But Jessica’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious son.

Korvo closes a book entitled "The Story of Shlorp" and looks at Terry who was listening.

Korvo: Aah! Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?

Terry: Yep. *sighs* That story never gets old. You know, you would've loved my parents.

Korvo: Yeah. I sure wish I gotten to meet them.

Terry wipes away a tear

Korvo: Can you believe that tomorrow is our wedding?

Terry: Yeah. I am so exciting!

Korvo: *looks out the window* It's really been five years, huh?

Terry: Yeah. And it was worth it.

Terry kisses Korvo on the cheek as Korvo laughs.

Korvo: Yep. I can’t wait for this moment. I love you Terry and nothing is ever gonna change that.

The next day is the day of the wedding. Terry is standing nervous at the altar

Terry: *takes a deep breath* Let’s do this.

Korvo walks down the aisle offscreen and Terry gasps and blushes

Terry: Whoa. You never looked more beautiful.

Korvo is wearing a cyan wedding gown with a dark blue veil covering his face

Korvo: Thank you.

AISHA appears holding a bible

AISHA: Do you Terry take Korvo as your lovely husband, to take care of him to honor him in sickness and health for as long as you both shall live?

Terry: Yeah, I do!

AISHA: And do you Korvo take Terry as her loving handsome husband, to care for him in sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?

Korvo starts crying with joy

Korvo: I do.

AISHA: Alright, now let's hear the vows

Korvo and Terry share their vows *like they do in the Valentine's Day special*

Korvo: Terry, you were randomly assigned to me in the brink of our planet’s home destruction. I know I would’ve chosen before but you are the brilliant partner an alien could have. I love you.

Terry: Perhaps it is fate that today is our wedding. Today it will this day is when the world would declare in one voice, we will not going quietly in the night. We will not vanish without a fight. We’re gonna love on! We’re going to marry Korvo!

AISHA sniffles

AISHA: Oh God. That was beautiful. By the power invested in me, just for today, I now pronounce you husband and husband. Okay, go ahead kiss. I want to see this.

Terry picks Korvo up and spins around as Korvo laughs

Korvo: Shall we see our vows with a kiss?

Terry: Yes. Yes we shall.

Korvo and Terry embrace in a big orbital kiss

Jesse: *offscreen* YEAH!

Jesse and Pupa are seen cheering for dads while Yumyulack gags.

Terry: I can't believe we did it...

Korvo: Yes. Yes we did.

Korvo and Terry touch their forehead

Korvo: I love you Terry… I always will… no matter what…

Terry: I love you too, mi amore.

As Korvo and Terry kiss, the camera pans to a Shlorpian ship watching over them

???: Tortus, is something wrong?

Tortus: My prized student has married that FUCK UP!

Tortus slammed his fist as he snarls.

???: Really?! Good for them!

Tortus: *growling*

???: I mean, uh, that's awful, sir!

Tortus: GRRRR! So, Jessica’s offspring has the won heart of Korvotron?…. Not on my watch!

Tortus presses a button

Tortus: I’m coming for you my prize student… don’t worry. We’ll find you and fix you up real soon…

Tortus laughs

Cue the movie title: “Solar Opposites: Rise of The New Order”!

[niuniente]

So I have just read your response about how to approach story telling, or at least how you do it specifically. And I just want to thank you for point eight, about 'It's not that deep - unless you wish it.'

I've always been ashamed that I made ocs but couldn't produce plot points for their personal stories. Like people talk about breaking their characters to make them develop, but I could never do that. Because I struggle so often, I didn't want my characters to. I just wanted my characters to live the life that I can't. But I also wanted to overcompensate because I felt like I wasn't doing them justice.

While it's not the popular opinion to have that be the way I approach creation, I do appreciate that you don't say it's a bad thing to not want things to be deep. So thank you, really.

You're welcomed!

I think the people who are very interested in character development typically either enjoy it tremendously or are (intentionally or unintentionally) using their art as a self-therapy. Both valid ways of doing art, as well as not being interested in character development or therapy art.

Sometimes the character development is and can be small and it's OK. People tend to call just finding new things about the character also a character development. Put them in new situations and see how they react and act.

Some characters are iconic for what they are and you don't even expect deep character development from them. Terminator is Terminator and you know with 100% certainty what to expect when you deal with Terminator - sure, he can be programmed differently for different needs but it's not exactly character development on its own if you ask me. Dracula is Dracula, Rambo is Rambo, Predator is Predator and Morticia Adams is Morticia Adams.

It's nothing unheard of that trying to develop the character because you should makes the character unrecognizable or OOC regarding what has been going on until now within the story.

In Nemesis the Warlock comic, the protagonist Nemesis is pictured as a good willed man, who does his best to resist racist humans and save other alien species. He doesn't really care about humans per se but is fine with a human being his right hand helper. His intentions are to save alien species from humans and bring peace to the universe. He's a liked friend and a loved husband and trying his best as a father.

This is about the half way of the series until creator(s) decide to develop Nemesis more. Turns out that Nemesis is actually just a bored demi-God who loves to play hide and seek with his human enemy. That he doesn't care about anyone or anything else but his own joy and boredom. He isn't interested in saving anyone and he literally manipulates his human friend, too, for his own benefit. This is explained as "Well, I'm just a chaos's being, deal with it, I never said I was good".

See what I mean? Go to far, try to force the development (and explain everything) and you can, without wanting it, break your character or the story - or both! If you make a character go a complete opposite of themselves, there has to be a reason for it. Not like in Nemesis "Well, I'm just like this". No, dude, you were literally the exact opposite for years and still just a second ago. What happened? Well, nothing, creator(s) just decided to add a shock value and develop the character because?????

You want your character to live the life you'd want? Wonderful, that's enough! That's how Sailor Moon was born and is all about. The creator was lonely, so she drew a comic of girls being friends, that kind of friends she wished she'd also have.

It's a valid reason to make a comic. Or anything! Nothing needs to be deep but it can be if wanted.

[shuddersoil]

Entry 1

If i had to choose how i die, i would want to die in a quiet blanket of snow, where peacefully i could meet death on my own terms. I'm scared of wishes. Theyre wonderful, but they inherently rob you of your life. If you wished to live a long happy life, then every moment would be undermined. Any joy you felt was forced, and a texture of sincerity bereft in that moment and each ever after. There's a beauty to pain. to the suffering of the world. as it seems to me, i am a soul. i am a man. i am a piece of reality with the cognition to decide between acts of good and evil. The finitude frightens me. I sometimes daydream. How wonderful would it be to pause the motion of time and to do every single thing you had wanted to? to bring friends with you? even just to have a little room you could carry with you, that only YOU can access, and when you're in there the outside world just waits for you to come back when you're ready. The world does not wait for you though. Time is a brutal god, but not because of an inherent malice in the fibre of our reality. No. Time can also be so merciful. With every thing that ever mattered to you, it will slowly turn to dust. Every thing that you loved. Everything that ever hurt you. That is the mercy of times unstoppable march, and without it we would loiter eternally, jealously guarding our nothingness. The cycle of renewal is a beautiful and necessary thing. If I could pause time, in a matter of days my "soul" would have grown so ancient without anyone noticing. Just imagine, they see you yesterday and you're you, but between then and now they've spent ten thousand years in their own head. Sometimes I wish I could be taken away from this world. I don't want to die, I dont think anyone wants to die. I think they want to escape. that's what I want to. The tall red rolls of curtain beside me be an ever flowing and falling rift to which I could sink into. The train, it's outside world a black and distant void pressing up against the windows. The hum of flourescence breathing a synthetic "here and now" in this small, clinical, soulless cabin of white and grey metal and plastic. Maybe I can just keep waking up here. Maybe I already am. Numbers aren't real. They're ideas. They're sounds and symbols that we attribute to things, objective tools that exist only in our mind. In a way, the all present and undying objective truth of numbers is a form of reality far more tangible and true that any air you breath or soil you touch. Dreams are like numbers. So is your imagination. These are real, perceivable layers of our reality that we brush off due to our cultural inhibitions. When you see something in your mind, or recall a memory from your life, that isn't Not happening. Is there. YOU can see it! you can feel it! You posses the power of creation within you. It bothers me how quick our modern world is to dismiss these things. can't they just be a piece of reality in a different way? Witnessing life and dismissing dreams, imagination, emotion and soul is like witnessing paintings and proclaiming that motion picture, sculpture, music and all other manner of art simply aren't as important. Dreams are profound. pieces of your soul you dont get to see speak to you in ideas instead of in words. I have lots of very vivid, very real dreams. I love my dreams and nightmares. They make me feel so much more real and alive than my day to day endurance.

Sometimes I fantasise about waking up and over the course of the morning realising that I'm the only human left. Or, I've been plucked from this world and placed into an empty copy of it, with all it's buildings and cars and forests and animals. It would hurt for a long time to come to terms with it, but the overwhelming liberty to simply live as I should, an anima, roaming nomadically through the ruins of the old world. That sort of desolation, the destruction of expectation and hope would be so comforting. I would make monuments to humanity. I would let the cosmos know that I, as the last man, will lay peace on the earth and thank what ever this life thing is for giving us a chance. There is beauty and love in this world worth dying for, and suffering is the cost of such generous gifts and we ought to accept that with pride. Thank you.

[bunatee]

There will come a poet Whose weapon is His word He will slay you with His tongue Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord He will slay you with His tongue Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord

Loneliness. Strength. Joy. You are powerful, but struggle believing it. You think you're not enough. Here's the truth : you are. You sing songs and hope they carry faith, because you have run out if it, and yet you still throw your heart out to the world and hope it makes it through. You convince yourself that pain is art because at least then, you will always have something to create. You are tired of stumbling through life. You dream of a ground you can stand on. One day, you will dance. Your love is where you feel - without fear. - From the quiz results.

--

The final piece of this trilogy; Matisse as the poet. He is the embodiment of all three parts, but in his heart of hearts, he is an artist above all else. Although he may be a prince, the title and priviledges afforded to him never tempered the feelings of self doubt and despair that plague him. He was never able to live up to the standards of others, never strong enough, never clever enough, never behaved in a way that was fitting for the future king. As a sickly child he found comfort in the stories told to him by his mother, and when sitting still for lessons proved too difficult, he found some relief in the simple act of drawing in the margins of his books. After the death of his mother, and subsequent rejection from his father, what was there to do except act out? He is deeply flawed, and spent the better part of his mid 20's trying to make up for being exceedingly awful in his youth. The act of creation is one of healing, depicting all of his hedonistic tendancies but also the nightmares that haunt him.

I struggled with rendering this piece. His expression is not as desperate as it was in the initial sketch which is unfortunate. I knew exactly how I wanted him to be pictured, with all three parts of the song applying to him. The military uniform and crown are both befitting of his title, but he holds the pen to his heart, longing for the life he wishes he could have. One of simplicity and without the burden of falling short of everyone's expectations of him. I wanted the pen to glow but it never looked right when I attempted it. The halo was another struggle. There wasn't a pattern that felt right for him, so I ended up choosing something simple. Stars play a large role in the mythology of his mother's homeland and become a reoccuring symbol during his story as well as Serenity's. I contemplated using the same star lace pattern that I used for her halo but it felt like too much given how cluttered the rest of his design is, so I settled for a backdrop of a starry sky.

[flowercrowngods]

19, 21, 28, 40

oh boy this got so out of hand i have a lot to say apparently 🤡 you did this to yourself 🙏

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

i think it started with a story about a little girl who was visited by some faeries, about four or six a4 computer-written pages that i then printed and gifted mama for her birthday or something. no, it was before that, handwritten, but i only remember mention of a cat. a chubby cat i think. i definitely started writing these little stories in primary school, but never short stories, it was always works that were way bigger than little me, abandoned after three pages because i moved on to the next. and then in 6th grade or so my friend wanted to write a crime novel with me. god, we had no idea what we were doing. it just occurs to me how deeply rooted these let’s go all out on these characters tendencies are.

why did i start? because it was fun. it was fascinating. it was something people told me i’m good at, writing alternative endings to short stories in school, writing my own fables and short stories, even essays and all that. in primary school my teacher told me i’m gonna be a writer or a teacher. and here i am, on my way to becoming a teacher, and writing some funky little stories sometimes.

writing has always been the thing i just do. in 12th grade half my year was rooting for me going nanowrimo for the first time, and they’d check in every day, and when i told them i made the 50k, they asked how much that is, and when i told them, that awe in their face, that exasperation, that shake of head and a muttered, “you’re crazy”. that’s when i knew i had found my happy place, and if i ever end up writing something of my own, i already know there will be people who have my back, who will not be surprised, who will smile and say, “knew it”. it’s a bit of a thrilling feeling, knowing this.

but still there’s no way that i’m going, i’m just walking. there’s not even a road here, just grass, some hills, it’s freedom and it’s safe and it’s dangerous and devastating and i wonder why i ever set foot on this journey only to round a corner and find out once more, with a smile. there is a version of me, lost to the past, but possibly still out there somewhere, who thinks that evoking emotions is what humans are here on this earth to do. that making people feel joy or anger or sadness or wistfulness or any of that, with the power of stories, is the most base act of humanity — and the fact that i get to do that sometimes on the internet with you people? there’s something deeply humbling about that.

but also i’m just here to fuck around and find out i guess, whatever works

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

i don’t think i could, because there’s just. this itch. this need. the absolute certainty that my brain would eat itself, go into full self-destruct mode if by some external force i were made to quit writing. that’s not to say i think i’m necessarily good at it, in either language, but something about it seems to catch people, and i’m addicted to that. it’s like a drug, i think, learning to master this craft and getting the reactions for it. having people say, with certainly much exaggeration, “this is the best thing i’ve ever read”, it just. makes me understand being alive a bit more.

i frequently wish i could stop this need to write. because needing to write isn’t what will make the words sound good, and breaks are necessary, they are vital. but the brain doesn’t care for that, and i’ll be miserable on the floor without my words, knowing they’ll come back because they always do, but i wish i wouldn’t rely on them so much.

but even so, i think my wish to be able to quit writing isn’t that at all. it’s probably more a painful awareness that my self worth is tied directly to if and what i’m writing, this addiction to creation. i want to stop needing to write, i think.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

this might come as a surprise, but i love when my characters get to be happy. happy soft ridiculous giddy eddie as he gets in some scenes or in the tattoo shop au? that’s really fucking delightful. delighted characters will make a delighted writer, i think, so i’m gonna stick with that umbrella type answer

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

uh. you know i’m not a poet, but i guess i’ll try for you, dingus, even though you’re way better at this than me 🌷 it is, of course, about arson

they liken flames to tongues and i wonder how my name would taste for them. i wonder what they would say. i wonder if they would scream like me.

i wonder if they want to burn or if they’re made to like me.

i wonder what they would feel like on my skin, if warmth had any meaning then or if it were misplaced like me.

silent and still, it’s in my room, a spark waiting to become a blaze. waiting to serve a purpose. waiting to be so much more than it ought to be, yet recognised in its ability.

like me.

[by0ll]

Hi hello, writing this at 3 am whilst dispelling fecal matter from my body.

I would consider myself an artist. My perspective of it has warped quite a lot over time as I've grown in this field. While it is both a hobby and something I wish to make monetary gains from.

In the beginning, art was just something I discovered and found simple joy in. It was something that I could just do, not because I was good, but because it was available and I could indulge in it. Back then my love for it was at its purest form. That is what I believe considering I was a young child at the time my love for it began. To take tools and make something. To make, to grow and kindle a passion for the act of creation.

My creation. My art. It was all I knew, it was special and wonderful to me, so I continued to use my creativity, my emotions, my love, and I poured it out. I bred more, and I enjoyed every moment. I still do, but as I learned and observed more art, other's art, I could feel my love for my own steadily dwindle. If I could describe how it felt, I'd compare it to slowly disconnecting with a partner. I had bonded so closely to it, art was and still is intimately tied to my soul. Not necessarily just in a sexual manner, but the way I bonded to it, I've slowly realized just how intimate it is. At least to me.

It's a part of me. Yet I greedily lusted after others and did not fully appreciate what I had bred with my own creativity. It was like disrespecting a lover, forcing it to watch as I compared it to another I longed for but could never had. I made my own art feel inadequate and by extension myself. My art, my love, I am so sorry that I have tarnished you so.

Sometimes when I share my intimate moments, my work, it feels off sometimes. When I force myself to chase after a certain art style I'd lust for, forcing my creativity to conform to rules that were not meant for us, for me. Forcing it to be what it was not and not appreciating the best it could do.

Of course I always wish to display my love and passion, the intimacy of my soul. Recently, I let my creativity alone dominate me without the influence of another. My creations were one of the most beautiful treasures I'd witnessed. And in that moment I did not wish to share it. I did not wish to share the product of my pure, unadulterated love of art and creativity. I had always paraded the carefully curated versions of the fabricated intimacy. It felt wrong. I had deluded myself into thinking that this version, my love, was wrong and did not deserve to be praised as much as my shameless infidelity that I call my better works.

It made me feel remorseful, it made me rethink what I had been chasing for so long. It made me realize how poorly I had treated myself as a means to receive the adoration of another in which I'd never obtain. I am a filthy cheater to my love. I abused it for so long and forced it to rot as I wrung it out dry with restrictions. Blood sweat and tears from my dear love as it tirelessly drilled itself on what would please me, nearly abandoning all sense of self.

I do not wish to hurt my love again. From now on, may I breed it properly, nurture it. I want to cease my chain of infidelity and go back to the way things were. Just us, just me. Where I may appreciate what I have and achieve proper intimacy. For my creativity to become pregnant and birth new creation that is loved by me and not subjected to undeserving judgement before it has time to mature.

In a new matrimony of purity and respect for my love, may I never disrespect you again.

[it-time-to-panic]

I had the ridiculous privilege of having the time and resources to make quilts for my in laws last year around this time. And I miss that set of projects. It was 9 quilts and so much work, but the act of creation? Pure enjoyment. HAVING something I MADE that I can HOLD? Bliss. I love crochet, I want to learn knitting and weaving and more sewing intricacies like for clothes. I love making things to give to others.

But we don't value that. We don't make that available because it's not productive enough. It doesn't make enough money. God I wish we could all just agree to do things for each other without trying to receive more in return. I yearn for a sense of community long past and now looked down overall. I would do so many types of labor just for the joy of creation if I didn't have to participate in the rat race just to survive.

I grieve the fact that I know I'll be yearning for the rest of my life

[seekfirst-community]

The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2023. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net

Meditation: Who can claim authority and power over life and death itself? Jesus not only made such a claim, he showed God's power to heal and restore people to wholeness of life. He also showed the mercy of God by releasing people from their burden of sin and guilt. He even claimed to have the power to raise the dead to life and to execute judgment on all the living and dead. The Jewish authorities were troubled with Jesus' claims and looked for a way to get rid of him. He either had to be a mad man and an imposter or who he claimed to be - God's divine son. Unfortunately, they could not accept Jesus' claim to be the Messiah, the anointed one sent by the Father to redeem his people. They sought to kill him because he claimed an authority and equality with God which they could not accept. They failed to recognize that this was God's answer to the long-awaited prayers of his people: "In a time of favor I have answered you, in a day of salvation I have helped you" (Isaiah 49:8).

A "covenant" to the people

Jesus was sent by the Father as "a covenant to the people" to reconcile them with God and restore to them the promise of paradise and everlasting life. Jesus' words and actions reveal God's mercy and justice. Jesus fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah when he brings healing, restoration, and forgiveness to those who accept his divine message.

The religious authorities charged Jesus as a Sabbath-breaker and a blasphemer. They wanted to kill Jesus because he claimed equality with God - something they thought no mortal could say without blaspheming. Little did they understand that Jesus was both human and divine - the eternal Son with the Father and the human son, conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of Mary. Jesus answered their charge of breaking the Sabbath law by demonstrating God's purpose for creation and redemption - to save and restore life. God's love and mercy never ceases for a moment. Jesus continues to show the Father's mercy by healing and restoring people, even on the Sabbath day of rest. When the religious leaders charged that Jesus was making himself equal with God, Jesus replied that he was not acting independently of God because his relationship is a close personal Father-Son relationship. He and the Father are united in heart, mind, and will. The mind of Jesus is the mind of God, and the words of Jesus are the words of God.

The unity of love and obedience

Jesus also states that his identity with the Father is based on complete trust and obedience. Jesus always did what his Father wanted him to do. His obedience was not just based on submission, but on love. He obeyed because he loved his Father. The unity between Jesus and the Father is a unity of love - a total giving of oneself for the sake of another. That is why their mutual love for each other is perfect and complete. The Son loves the Father and gives himself in total obedience to the Father's will. The Father loves the Son and shares with him all that he is and has. We are called to submit our lives to God with the same love, trust, and obedience which Jesus demonstrated for his Father.

If we wish to understand how God deals with sin and how he responds to our sinful condition, then we must look to Jesus. Jesus took our sins upon himself and nailed them to the cross. He, who is equal in dignity and stature with the Father, became a servant for our sake to ransom us from slavery to sin. He has the power to forgive us and to restore our relationship with God because he paid the price for our sins.

Jesus offers us abundant, life, peace, and joy

Jesus states that to accept him islife - a life of abundant peace and joy with God. But if we reject him, then we freely choose fordeath - an endless separation with an all-loving and merciful God. Do you want the abundant life which Jesus offers? Believe in him, the living Word of God, who became a man for our sake and our salvation, and reject whatever is false and contrary to the Gospel - the good news he came to give us.

"Lord Jesus, increase my love for you and unite my heart and will with yours, that I may only seek and desire what is pleasing to you."

The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2023.

on the threshold of...

“In a time of favor I answer you, on the day of salvation I help you.” —Isaiah 49:8

We have been fasting for four weeks to prepare for Easter. What will the Lord do this Easter?

1)      Some who feel forsaken and forgotten will be assured of the Lord’s tender love (see Is 49:14-15). At first, this will not change the distressing circumstances of their lives, but will dramatically change their attitude toward them.

2)      Long-term desolation will be replaced by restoration (Is 49:8).

3)      Many people trapped in the prison and darkness of sin will come out and show themselves (Is 49:9).

4)      Through a series of miracles, many of you will return from a self-imposed exile in the world into life in God’s kingdom (see Is 49:9-12).

5)      The heavens, earth, and mountains will sing because of the comfort and mercy the Lord will give us (Is 49:13).

6)      At least hundreds of thousands of people will pass from death to life by hearing the Lord’s Word and believing in Him (Jn 5:24).

The risen Lord will do several million other things this upcoming Easter season. We are on the threshold of an awesome outpouring of the Lord’s love and grace. Prepare to share in Easter 2023. Repent, confess, forgive, give, pray, fast, witness, heal, obey, believe, and love. Come, risen Lord Jesus!

Prayer:  Father, may this be the Lent of a lifetime and the springtime of my life in the Spirit.

Promise:  “An hour is coming in which all those in their tombs shall hear His voice and come forth.” —Jn 5:28

Praise:  Brenda goes to Confession weekly. She desires to be all that Jesus desires.

Reference:  

Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for the publication One Bread, One Body covering the time period from February 1, 2023 through March 31, 2023. Reverend Steve J. Angi, Chancellor, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio June 15, 2022"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

[russeliarat]

So apparently people do care a little more ab this idea than I thought so I'll elaborate, starting from the very most beginning (cut coz many words):

Hylia was a being who was somehow brought into existence within the mortal realm despite being immortal. In fact, she made up the mortal realm - HER mortal realm. Awaking one day, she finds a small triangular relic in within one of her many infinite hands and the knowledge of three immortals whom gave her the item - Din, Nayru, and Farore - as well as the purpose they set out for her to do; find a domain and nurture it as her own as many other immortals have done in the immortal realm. Following her purpose, Hylia founded the Earth and created her mortals, as well as place her relic within their hands, or the Triforce as the humans dubbed it, within a small landmass which would very soon later be known as the kingdom of Hyrule.

But even with her people and her planet, there was a sense of emptiness from within her despite being this realms everything and nothing. So she experimented and created a half-immortal who called himself Demise. He acted as both a companion and rival and acted as her other half, the man who brought peace and joy by bringing conflict and pain and neither could exist without the other. But one night, Hylia saw a vision like she'd never seen before, one in which, like every mortal, Demise had his own interests and it just so happened to tap into the magics of the land. A greed unknown to anyone would take over his soul and bring the land to it's doom as he'd become overpowered by his hatred.

Perhaps in an act of desperate selfishness and a want to keep her people safe, Hylia decided to split Demise into two men - the immortal side who's hatred raged on, and the mortal side who wished merely to live a normal life beside his goddess. Soon a devastating war became of the land and Hylia rose the earth into the skies with her allies by her side to fight with her, her mortal creation, and a hero who emerged from the shadows. It seemed tragic that the man she created and grew so dearly attached to had died by his other half's hands and in response, Hylia had no choice but to preserve his soul in a stone item and hold onto it for centuries.

Thousands upon thousands of years pass and the time of 10,000 years before Breath of the Wild occurs. A child is born to the Gerudo chieftain and she is unhappy to find that this child is a boy. Overcome with her own greed and terror, the chieftain ordered her servants to care for the boy as if he were his mother's daughter and to banish him from the city as soon as he was of age. The chieftain would have had the boy killed on account of the terrible rumours about this child's male ancestors, yet she could not bring herself to murder a baby, let alone her own son.

The chieftain would later grow to change her mind as she grew older and fell deeper into her own madness, affected with her horrid curse that arose from their ancestor rising once more from the dead. She drove the Gerudo race into their own fast-approaching doom and on the son's 18th birthday, he would be framed for treason against the state for exchanging highly secretive documents and plans with their Hylian enemies in war. He would be taken to a temple to be executed, yet he managed to escape that night, confused and upset at the news that his entire life was a lie. He ran far, risking his own life to pass across Hylian soil, until he eventually stumbled across a neutral race in the war - the Zonai.

The Zonai were a peaceful agricultural and trading race. They accepted the son into their care upon hearing his story and only asked of him to respect their culture, their way of life, and the goddess that they housed in their temple walls. He did as such, living his life as a musician who told folk tales to children and wrote songs to alleviate his own traumas. There was always something tugging at his mind however, a destructive force that whispered evil thoughts in his mind and caused pain or inconvenience when its orders weren't followed. The curse of his ancestors. All the meanwhile, war raged in the background, destroying Hyrule from the inside out as Ganondorf rose once more, manipulating the King into giving up his defences and subsequently leaving the kingdom up to ruin from external war and internal manipulation.

This man had more than enough grief and anger after a Zonai friend was caught in the cross-fire, yet insisted for the leaders to not engage and to merely defend. The man visited the goddess's temple for the first time in his life and met Hylia. The two talked and came to a conclusion, the man was advised to be the hero that never arose this one time out of the goodness in his heart hiding beneath the Malice that poisoned it. He set out with Hylia as his divine guide to take up a Hero's position, somehow gaining a romance with the goddess. He would later find out that she had done this song and dance a million times before - her love would put himself in harms way somehow, die in tragedy, and she would build a new vessel for his soul to be harboured in through a jade stone item. This man was not the first nor would he be the last.

Throughout the man's adventure, he would discover how to make use of Zonai magic, aiding in his quest to defeat his own ancestor. And even though he was not of the Hero's bloodline or possessed his spirit, he worked tirelessly to impress the Master Sword enough to prove that he was worthy of her usage. Yet his past, his present involvement in the war, and his future as possibly being the next Ganondorf from the growing evil temptations drove him to near madness as he relied on Hylia to be his rock. However, it was not enough. Despite his hardships, despite all his efforts, even with Hylia's physical help in a form more palletable to the mortal eye, it was all for nought and the man became heavily wounded in his fight with Ganondorf. Luckily, Ganondorf was injured enough to be temporarily incapacitated, yet the hero could not finish him off. In his madness, the man removed Hylia's mask to reveal her terrifying, infinite black hole of a face, terrifying enough to give any mortal a heart attack from the horrors they would see, despite Hylia begging for him not to. It would be dangerous- no it would spell certain death, but he liked danger and he certainly didn't fear death. The hero died in Hylia's hands and she granted him release from his final mission by harvesting the Zonai magic within him and placing his jade-harboured soul in the magic's physical form, sending him to lock away Ganondorf until the next hero awoke. The Hylians of the future would call this war the first Calamity.

Yet, even 10,000 years later, no hero was reincarnated. Hylia had finished the vessel for her love and sent him out into the world. The oddest thing was that his mortal parents insisted on calling him Link, the name of the hero that aided her so long ago. This Link had died in the second Calamity, and awoke a century later to purge the evil. And yet, not even a few years later, he was needed again.

Link's second adventure saw the discovery of Ganondorf's body being sealed away by the hero of 10,000 years ago and upon the sight of the two mortals arriving in his underground domain, Ganondorf attempted to kill the two, burning Link's arm til it barely functioned and dropping the two into a casm that was likely to kill them. The hand of the hero had other plans and harboured himself within Link's body to save Link. Throughout Link's adventure, he has to deal with the fact that he's basically one-handed now and his right arm has a mind of its own. He had also taken frequent trips to Hylia's temple, which was forgotten with the genocide of the Zonai in the first Calamity and she stayed in hiding for many years. Link discovered the 10k hero's story, developing his previously mentioned identity crisis. Yet he learned something else that truly broke his worldview.

Hyrule exists in a time loop. Centuries after the creation of Demise, Hylia had another vision. If Hyrule were to continue even a hundred years after the current time, it was fated to be destroyed, which with the way of the curse, may as well have been the destruction of the entire planet under Ganondorf's reign. You see, Link discovered that the 10k hero that possessed his arm had also separated the hatred in Ganondorf's soul from his body, thusly creating Calamity Ganon, yet his complex feeling of anger and the curse remained like the hero. No matter what, Ganondorf was cursed to succumb to the evil tainting his heart. So Hylia had decided to create a timeloop. The sky islands of this age would make way for Skyloft and Link of the current era would be known as Hyrule's first hero for she would rewrite history to disguise this fact. After all, mortal minds do not like the idea of the infinite. And so Link discovered that he's had this conversation an infinite amount of times, as has he gone through his previous adventure and trauma, and he'd also gone through with this adventure to its completion and its consequences an infinite amount of times too.

Finding all of this out broke Link's poor mind and he kind of just shut down. He's been through a lot, so he takes it the logical way and decides that in order to be his own person, he needs to take off his possessed arm via DIY amputation. It doesn't work so instead he just gives up fighting when the Redeads come to eat him, but his somewhat suicidal attempts don't work and he has therapy with Zelda.

So imagine our lovely Link of the Tears of the Kingdom variety is actually meant to be a vessel for a Ganondorf that attempted to defect from his destiny that Hylia created because of some complicated love shenanigans and it basically just made Link's identity crisis worse.

I would love to go on a rant about my ideas for TotK that isn't my already existing AU that's in the works, but it's long winded and no one prob wants to hear something like that lol

[dreamkidddream]

Okay I know that it’s used as a joke that Solomon’s cooking is a biohazard really bad, but what if you taught him how to cook?

Granted, Solomon isn’t as prideful as Lucifer is, but he fully believes that he’s a good cook. Maybe not on Luke’s and Barbatos’ levels, but he would believe himself to be pretty decent for someone whose been alive for centuries. He’s confident in his skills, but you don’t have the heart to tell him that his food is barely edible (if edible at all). And you can see just how passionate he is about it- the way his eyes glow so childlike as he waits for you to take the first bite, the bright smile that shows just how much joy he gets from even bringing you his creations- just because he made it for you.

So instead of shattering his illusions and breaking his heart, you decide to suggest to teach him some new recipes.

He doesn’t really use recipes as he likes to improvise- it’s evident in what he does create (and it makes sense why his food turns out like…that). But, he decides to humor you, partly because he’s curious as to what you can teach him- someone who’s known to be one of the wisest men to ever exist in all of three realms. He wasn’t expecting to become the apprentice so soon, but he enjoys it and he’s ready to learn anything that you have to offer. But the main reason is because it’s an opportunity to spend some alone time without the brothers, and because well- it’s you. He’s always ready to spend time with you (and he wishes that it could happen more- which this is the time to make that happen in his eyes).

So you start off with simple, basic recipes. It’s hard to stop his impulse from “spicing it up” because he believes that it’s a bit boring and could be more fun, and you’ve had to snatch random ingredients from him before it turns to a disaster (again). He really is like a kid- just grabbing anything within reach and pouring it without worrying about the consequences, all with a smile on his face. But it’s been getting better with time, slowly but surely- you can still taste the burnt bits, you’re pretty sure that the sauce shouldn’t be that thick, and you came close to asking for a healing potion once- but it’s progress!

But it’s also progress with your relationship. Your bond.

It’s noticeable how much you’ve been going over to Purgatory Hall, how much you two have grown attached to the hip. No matter if the teacher just dismissed you for the day, or if you were heading off to lunch with someone, or even if you were about to leave for the day- Solomon was waiting for you. And you would both head off to Purgatory Hall for your daily lesson- maybe making a pit stop to the grocery store. It didn’t matter anymore- your feet would just carry you off to whichever destination with him by your side.

In the kitchen, he’s also become so touchy feeling. Your hands constantly brush past one another, his chest pressed against your back as he reached past you to grab the next ingredient, chuckling in your ear as he apologized (one that you didn’t really believe considering how he stayed against you long after using it). All of the acts that you would see in a cheesy romcom movie- you two were doing it, and it was starting to become something that you longed to do even outside the kitchen. And you had a feeling that he felt the same way.

It wasn’t until Solomon came to the House of Lamentation one evening baring a tin that all of the time spent was paid off. When he lifted the top, it was an assortment of decorated cookies. If you looked closer, some of them even resembled you (yes, the icing was smeared and melting off the cookie, but your heart still soared at the sight of it).

Mammon was practically foaming at the mouth when he saw you reach for one, and all of the brothers practically panicked when they saw you take a bite. But you were surprised- the cookie was edible, still tasted a bit off and hard to swallow, but it was edible. You swallowed, and everyone held their breath in anticipation of you just fainting, even Solomon through his air of confidence with a smile donning his face seemed a bit anxious. But it wasn’t until you threw your arms around him that his worries melted away and he began laughing, not wasting a second to wrap his own arms around you.

You didn’t even care about what his cooking tasted like- the fact that he made it just for you like he’s been doing before was more than enough to touch your heart. There’s still room for improvement obviously, but you’re fine being patient and taking your time if it means that he gets to stay by your side.

And gazing down at you with such fondness in his eyes, he feels the same way.

[burnedbyshoto]

split

— Shouto becomes victim of a quirk accident. In that he become two people who get along as well as fire and ice do. They clash at every moment, and only seem to agree on one thing: their love for you. Or in which Shouto gets split into two by a quirk that spilts chimeras and in order for peace to be found you find yourself in a threesome with two halves that make the one you love most.

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pairing: split!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, threesome, split!shouto, anal, double penetration, blowjob, rimming, cunnilingus, cursing, degradation, praise 

word count: 8,930

a/n: LMAOOOOOO this waas actually fun to write the names I gave them were super easy because I am uncreative. I used an anons rec for shoutos hero name: reisho so that’s what that is. and thank you to my lovely canasian for finding the original drabble I wrote. pls enjoy!

kinktober day 6 main kink: threesome

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“What’s going on?”

It was a series of words that often came out of your mouth because, as a Pro Hero, there were many times where you had no idea what was going on. It usually ranged from asking why Kaminari and Kirishima were giggling and avoiding your gaze when you walked into a room to coming onto an active battle where Bakugou and Midoriya were bloodied and crazed. There was nothing off-limits to those words, as they were, after all, said in complete confusion. 

“Where is he?!” you tried again, watching as nineteen different eyes look everywhere but at you.

However, it was without given when you watched your twenty -- wait, was that twenty-one? -- former classmates both stumble into one another as they turn to face you.

“Y/l/n-chan!” Mina squeaked, stepping up from the crowd, trying to cover up the two people in there that you couldn’t quite recognize as your classmates. “How was patrol? I heard that Todoroki-kun left you midway!”

You wished that last comment didn’t make your cheeks burn as intensely as it did.

Today had been one of the rare days that you had gone off on your route with your boyfriend, Todoroki Shouto. Both of you watched the busy streets and whispering between yourself as you avoided the masses, not wanting to get caught up with fan interactions that were rather unneeded. But there had been a large altercation that required Shouto’s expertise. Specifically, the voice at headquarters commanded that you stay on patrol while Shouto would leave. So you had watched as Shouto placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb softly petting your cheek, his smile warm.

“I’ll be back,” he had promised before taking off in a mist of ice and fire.

You continued the rest of your patrol with a rather childish pout on your face, you hadn’t enjoyed being sidelined like this, but you calmly assessed the situation. It probably wasn’t a fight you would be much aid in, and there was never a reason to send more than enough heroes onto a single area. But your route was coming to an end, and Shouto had still yet to reappear. Trying not to overthink it, you frowned while passing a store with TVs out in front.

Staring at the bright, flashing screen, you suddenly felt a sense of panic at the headliner: Chimera Quirk-Wielding Villain Apprehended by Pro Heroes Froppy, Pinky, and Reisho. (slight injuries on the hero team.)

With concern pitting up horribly in your stomach for your friends and boyfriend, you finished your assignment as calmly as you could, before finally getting to rush back to your agency. You had taken to the rooftops to get there as quickly as you could.

Through all that, you found yourself right where you had been in the beginning, staring at Mina, who despite the few scrapes of dirt and soot on your costume, looked normal. Your eyes glanced over at Tsuyu, who, like Mina, was unharmed -- which left Shouto.

“Something strange happened during that battle,” Momo spoke up, her face set with concern, her eyes, although not horrified, was definitely a bit at a loss for an explanation.

“Wha--?”

“The person we fought against could make chimera’s out of people, but the limits of their quirk meant that once they made a chimera, they couldn’t add more to the creation,” Mina explained, her head nodding as she looked from Momo to you. Her fingers were tugging at her pink curls, and you tilted your head.

“Is Shouto still smashed together with someone or something?” you asked, a bit hesitant to see what potentially horrific creation your boyfriend could have turned into. “I’ve seen Shouto show up home after the poop-villain fiasco, I swear I won’t cry if he’s ugly!”

“Well, no, kero,” Tsuyu frowned, her finger pressing to her lower lip as she tilted her head. “Mina-chan and I were a chimera for a bit, and the quirk has a limit when they make a chimera.”

You didn’t like how that was worded.

“Just fucking show her the idiots who threw the match!” Bakugou snapped, his eyebrows furrowed as he shoved the crowd away in the middle, parting them like Moses did the red sea. 

Idiots? You thought, your confused expression growing as you looked from Bakugou’s frowning face onto what they had been hiding from you.

And you instantly understood why when you were greeted with two heads. One entirely redheaded, the other entirely white-haired, each with identical faces who looked at you with the same tone to their eyes.

“You see, their quirk can also separate chimera’s, and well… I — we, guess that Todoroki-san is one,” Momo informed you as you stared at opposite replicates of your loving boyfriend. “The villain said they’ve never split a natural-born human chimera before, it had been their first time, so the lasting effects of the quirk are unknown.”

The redheaded Shouto still sported a scar on his face, but he felt completely different. His face was cold, stare distant, and burning with a suppressed, denied fury that you couldn’t recognize on him outside of a battlefield. But even with the cold look encompassing his body and stature like a thick sheet of ice, when he looked at you with his set of two burning turquoise eyes, you knew his feelings for you were still the same.

The white-haired Shouto had no scar, and he looked much closer to the man you knew currently, except maybe a bit more open? His face quipped into a smile, his eyes swimming with mirth, joy, and content with finally seeing you here, all good emotions but emotions you weren’t used to him exposing to the public like this. But even with the warm, loving look burning softly around him, his set of grey eyes shone with feelings you knew were true.

“My boyfriend is split into two?!”

There was something wrong with that sentence, something that carried heat because the moment you said those words, both Shouto’s seemed to freeze next to each other. Icy and fiery glares meeting in an electric firestorm as Deku promptly dragged you out of the room with Momo and Mina. You struggled against Deku’s iron grip, only seeing white-haired Shouto’s jaw drop in the beginnings of a speech while redheaded Shouto glowered at him with all the intensity he could muster.

“Y/l/n-san, we need you to never, ever mention that they’re the same person,” Deku immediately spoke as soon as the door between the hallway and the room where the Shouto’s were closed. “He’s — they’re — not handling that information very well, and are acting rather… immature about who the real ‘Todoroki-kun’ is.”

“They’re not connected by the same mind?!” you spluttered, your own mind feeling like it was split down the middle at the hypothesis that your boyfriend was both of these men, but none of them. “So, it’s like a split personality manifesting completely?”

“We’re a bit sure on how to compare it to something such as dissociative disorder,” Momo spoke calmly, undoubtedly her mind working a mile a millisecond to make sense of the strange predicament you all were in. “He’s been in here for some time now. And from what we’ve managed to question from him, both parts of Todoroki-san remember everything. It seems they differ in just how they felt about it on an emotional basis.”

You blinked once, twice.

“Do you mind giving me an example?”

Goddamn idiot you were.

“Well, I guess the bigger emotional differences were during our high school years,” Midoriya mumbled, his fingers pinching his lower lip in thought. “A good example would be why he challenged me during the sports festival. Redhead Shouto said he did it because he hated Endeavor so much back then he was willing to prove his strength no matter what. White-haired Shouto says it was an overreaction on his own part and that he’s truly sorry.”

You frowned.

“It almost sounds like if Todoroki-san’s quirk had been only one of his parents, and his two halves are insights to the life he would have led if he had only one,” Momo offered a pursed stare. She didn’t seem too sure of her conclusion, but for you, it was enough.

“Honestly, you were the only one I saw both Todoroki-kun’s act the same toward!” Mina exclaimed, her hands grabbing your shoulders as she leaned in close, a sly grin on her face. “It’s like the two of you are destined lovers, no matter how the world is!”

“Mina!” you whined, feeling utterly embarrassed as she snickered loudly, her eye falling into a wink before straightening up.

“Alright, so just a recap: don’t mention which one is the ‘real’ Todoroki,” Mina warned, already moving back into the room.

“What do we call them then?” you whispered, feeling not at all prepared to stare at two, stupid hot versions of your same boyfriend.

“Ah-ha, well,” Midoriya smiled embarrassed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as you all walked back in. “Only Kacchan brought up a nickname so far.”

“YOU STUPID FUCKING RED HALF!” Bakugou’s voice roared the moment the door opened, and immediately, you were pulled back into the mess of the situation. “I’LL MURDER YOUR ASS!”

“Someone was clearly not raised on manners,” came the snide remark from Shouto’s white half, and you watched on in horror as your old male classmates worked together to hold off all three rambunctious boys to keep from fighting.

“LET GO OF ME, SHITTY HAIR! I’LL GIVE THEM BOTH NEW SCARS IF THEY KEEP ACTING LIKE THIS!”

But you stared at the apathetic face on Shouto’s red half, his eyes somehow empty, dull, and angry as he glared at Bakugou.

Red half.

Red.

You looked at Shouto’s white half that was grinning at the challenge, icy frosting off his body akin to the explosions on Bakugou’s fists as he egged him on. 

White.

That would be easy enough.

You snorted, before walking forward, grabbing your boyfriend(s) hands in yours, and they quickly turned to look at you. Their gazes turning warm and full, their demeanor utterly different as the raging Bakugou faded into the background. 

“So, I’m sure you both know what’s going on at the moment,” you spoke clearly, just loudly enough to be heard over the popping explosions on Bakugou’s palms. “I also know you’re both confident in who you are, but the truth is you both have the same name, so we’re going to need a new thing to call the both of you. Is that okay?”

“Ah, I see,” white-haired Shouto nodded, his hand tightening around yours, his thumb running along the backside of your palm. “You will continue to call me Shouto, and we will call him, the Imposter.”

Wait, what?!

“I’m not the imposter,” redheaded Shouto rolled his eyes, taking the hand he held up to his lips, pressing a gentle, warm kiss to your knuckles — it contrasted chillingly with the cold, aloof tone he continues to have with his white half. “I am, after all, the one with the facial scar. It is the most recognizable feature of me. Clearly, you’re the imposter.”

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered and how your cheeks exploded in heat as both Shouto’s were suddenly kissing your knuckles. They only went further after leaving warm, chilling kisses on your skin. For they pulled you closer by your waist, a physical challenge between the two to claim you. Even though they both were for you.

It was only made worse by the wide-eyed, cheek splitting grins, and spluttering noises made by your old classmates who relished in this rom-com type embarrassment.

“Oh my god, enough!” you squeaked, trying to shove both overpowering men away from you.

“See, you’re being too much,” white-haired Shouto snapped, ripping you from redhead Shouto’s hold.

“Let. Y/n. Go.” redhead Shouto growled, hand exploding with fire, and you wrestled yourself out of white-haired Shouto’s hold to press your palms flat against each of their chests.

“You both better calm down right now, or else I’ll send you off with our friends until you’re back to normal!” you snap, your cheek radiating with explosive heat. With the threat heavy on their minds, redhead Shouto took away his flame, and white-haired Shouto took a less defensive stance. Relieved with their current treaty, you thrust a finger at both halves, looking between your way too amused classmates and your boyfriend(s). “You will be called Red--” you jabbed redheaded Shouto with your finger-- “and you will be White!” you spoke clearly, tapping white-haired Shouto with your other finger.

“Am I understood?”

Silence.

You glared at your boyfriend(s) who were staring down at you with wide eyes and gaping jaws.

“I said, am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” your boyfriend(s) sputtered.

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Highlight of Day One of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Where is Red going to sleep?” White asked as you settled into the, thankfully, large bed the two -- now three -- of you shared. “On the floor?”

The bed had been a present from Endeavor when Shouto had moved into your apartment with you. It was much bigger than anything you owned, and while you hadn’t been fond of the length and stretch of the bed, you indeed were grateful for it now.

“Y/n likes to be warm when she sleeps,” Red duly noted, glaring at White the entire time it took him to crawl onto the right side of the bed. He settled right by you, arm wrapped around your waist, chin grazing against your temple. “You sleep on the floor.”

“You need comfort to stay beautiful, and since you’re eliminated from being that because of the scar on your face, you can sleep on the floor!” White countered while reciprocating the same position Red was doing.

Red’s eyebrow twitched at that before his glare soured and became icy cold, “I have the bigger co--”

“Both of you shut up now!” you snap, the palms of your hands shoving their faces away from one another. You were feeling more like a mother to a pair of troublesome twin toddlers than the girlfriend of your boyfriend(s). “I don’t want to hear it!” you groan as both their jaws dropped to attempt to speak their mind. “If you can’t shut up and sleep, I’ll sleep on the floor!”

“No!”

“No!”

“Then shut up, love me more, and let’s go to bed!”

…

…

…

“You don’t have the bigger cock--”

“Oh my god!”

“Please don’t go, my love, White is an idiot.”

Highlight of Day Two of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Well, this is certainly an interesting thing to be experiencing,” Rei’s gentle voice filled the room as both Red and White sat at her sides. Neither one of them touching her, but their gazes warm and soft for their mother. Rei touched the cheeks of both her son(s) and sighed softly before returning her attention to you. “Has it been hard? I do hope they’ve been behaving themselves.”

You smiled in hopes it would help to hide the grimace on your features as you laughed.

Just this morning, the two of them nearly burned down the kitchen while trying to outperform one another in making you breakfast in bed. It was of ample notice to realize that just one Todoroki Shouto was not to be trusted in the kitchen, but putting two Todoroki Shouto’s in there had caused them to somehow burn water and melt the stove.

The eggs they managed to pull together were burnt yet undercooked and had eggshells in them.

It wasn’t the worst meal you’ve had fun enough.

“They’re doing just fine,” you lie, your smile warm at the woman you would hope to one day become your mother-in-law. “Just a bit odd to deal with two people when I’m so used to one.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. In fact, they initially saw Shouto was to be twins, but he absorbed the other one in the womb,” Rei admitted, a small laugh on her tongue as she politely covered her mouth, her eyes closed in her mirth. “A bit funny how it seems like this could have been the outcome of that life.”

You feel a cold sweat drip on the back of your neck as Red straightens, his eyes darkening as he makes contact with Rei’s arm, and fear thrums through every fiber of your being.

“Kaa-san?”

“Yes, Shouto?” Rei asked, her warm grey eyes taking in Red’s gloomy form.

“White called me ugly.”

Highlight of Day Three of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“My love, I’m not feeling too well,” White groaned on the couch when you first arrived home.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for you, you were still being cleared to work during this time of split Shouto. After a much-needed relatively short time away from home, you had returned after a patrol to a clean apartment living room and Red sitting on the singles armchair, and White sprawled on the couch. 

You froze, Shouto hardly ever got sick! His internal temperature was always so in tune to the things around him that no virus, bug, or bacteria ever managed to infect him with sickness. For all five years of knowing him, you had never once seen him sick.

“Oh my god!” you panicked, rushing to remove your coat and shoes as you ran over to the couch to feel his forehead for a temperature.

He was running a bit cold, as he always did on his right side of his body, so you internally freaked about if this was normal or not! Your Shouto always had a specific spot on his forehead that was considered normal, but this was not your normal Shouto.

You were fucked, so wildly fucked.

“Are you okay? What do you need? I can go get you a blanket. I’ll get some soup going! What medicine do you think you need?!”

“There’s…” White trailed off in his exhaustion, his hands rubbing his face in probably his sick delirium. “There’s only one thing that will help…”

“What is it?” you asked, leaning in closer to him so that his flushed lips were centimeters from your ear.

“I need... “ he trailed off, and you leaned in closer, only to be suddenly trapped in his arms and pulled on top of him. “Some one-on-one time with my beautiful girlfriend!”

The scent of burning leather filled the room.

“WHITE PUT IT OUT! PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

“Princess, I’m not feeling good.”

Good fucking grief.

Highlight of Day Four of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot soba.”

“Cold soba.”

“Hot.”

“Cold.”

“Hot!”

“Cold.”

“The store has both!” you sobbed, your boyfriend(s) adopting their possessive hugging on your body while out in public as you had attempted to get them out of the house because you thought that maybe, just maybe, they were feeling stir-crazy.

“But we always share our soba noodles, y/n,” Red looked down at you, tilting your chin so that you could look at him clearly. “I know you love cold soba more.”

“We get it, Ice Princess, daddy hurt your feelings, and now you still hate everything hot! Get over it; y/n always buys hot soba when you’re not around.”

“G-Guys,” you whimper, suddenly feeling drowned out with the clashing of ice and fire personalities around you as the crowd watched on in bemusement. “Please stop.”

They suddenly both turned on you, their eyes narrowed, faces fierce as they both exclaimed at the same time: “Which soba do you like better?!”

You’re too exhausted of them to even scold them like you had used to anymore.

In the end, they tried to settle it via arm wrestling, which resulted in a horrible tie. They had both tried to use their quirks to win, somehow forgetting in the heat of their battle that their quirks not only canceled each other, but their strength was painfully equivalent. 

Highlight of Day Five of Living with the Todoroki Twins Boyfriend(s):

To be frank, you missed kissing Shouto.

With them being the way they were and how horribly chaotic they acted, you knew if you kissed one, it would lead to them both impregnating you and slipping an engagement ring on your pretty ring finger well before you were ready for either one of those things. So instead, you stared at both of their equally perfect lips.

Full, slightly pouty pink lips that were somewhat chapped as they always were due to his quirk elements. Full, soft lips that you had felt pressed to your hands and cheeks for the past five days, and yet you craved it to be pressed against your lips, but that was undoubtedly dangerous.

But you continued to stare at Red’s lips, at White’s lips.

You liked seeing how their teeth exposed themselves when they smiled, or how he had barely formed dimples on his cheeks, the smile lines that had finally formed on his previously smooth face. You liked seeing the way he bit on his lower lip when he held his tongue, or how his tongue seductively swiped his lips when he caught you staring.

Wait—?!

You snapped out of your daze, staring at the suggestive, all too pleased look on White’s face as he leaned in close to you while Red was busy performing his daily workout routine.

“You want to fuck while Not-the-real-Shouto’s busy? He won’t know, I promise.”

You flush.

“No!”

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It was day six of split Shouto when you woke up.

Your eyes stinging with exhaustion as you stared up at the ceiling as bodies of ice and fire sandwiched you between them. They snored softly, breathes deep and full in perfect harmony as they slumbered. You hated Shouto. You hated him so much.

This could have been a fantastic experience in your fantasies. Cloning quirks were a thing, and often you would hear about the sexual endeavors many partook in while in the company of someone with such quirk. It seemed like so much fun. Someone existing solely to be fucked, replicated from someone you already trusted.

It seemed perfect.

But here you were. Living the life of many porn fantasies, but the clones — not clones — hated one another. You couldn’t even so much as breathe next to one of them for too long before the other came to rip you away, annoyed, and ready to reclaim you. They were behaving as if you didn’t already belong to them.

Maybe you could have handled the lack of horny, lusting out of your mind sex if they had simply allowed you to kiss them without starting a war. But they claimed they would rather die than see you kiss someone that wasn’t them (singular them).

So, you were struggling.

The internal struggle only grew when they woke up at the same time. Growing when they both exposed their scarred, perfectly muscled, and toned body. It grew when they pressed their sinful body against yours, and you could only look up at them with eyes like a full moon, heat wet in your panties. You wanted something to happen because watching them go at it again for the fifty-third time today suddenly made your mind snap.

Since they wouldn’t seem to quit fighting, you might as well be fucked while they fought amongst themselves. You were a big girl, you could handle two cocks around your body.

At the moment, you were in the communal kitchen living room area. You sat at the table, trying to enjoy your cup of tea while they stood a few strides away from you… arguing.

“Would you both put those mouths to better use than fighting with each other?!” you finally snapped, your hands tugging at the roots of your hair after you placed down your cup of tea. They had been fighting for the past hour as to whether or not Shouto’s first costume idea was created because of Red or because of White. 

Neither one of them claimed responsibility on that one funny enough.

They fell silent immediately. Both their eyes wide, brows furrowed, and jaws gaping like a fish as they tried to separate their conversation from what you just said.

“Better use?” Red stated, his blink slow.

A curling, devious smirk spread on White’s face, “Oh, did my love finally cave to being fucked?”

“I didn’t think you would be into cucking,” Red admitted, his own smirk growing on his face while White frowned and glared at him. “What? It’s obvious it would be you tied up, White. You can’t expect y/n to trust either one of us to sit there, so she’d tie us up. My fire would easily destroy the bonds.”

Ah yes, how could you forget that they’d adopted only one half of the one quirk Shouto possessed. Now while you definitely wouldn’t mind cucking both sides of Shouto at some point, that wasn’t what you were craving at the moment.

“Y/n loves ice trailing down her body, I can definitely satisfy her better!”

“Like I said a few days ago, I have the bigger cock, so shut up and watch us.”

They were going to drive you insane.

Standing up from the table, the chair screeching against the floor as you did so, their attention fell on you. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks, your heart fluttering in your chest as turquoise and grey eyes that you could read like nothing gorged into your form. 

You settled between them, feeling dwarfed between their taller, muscled forms. Red was in a white t-shirt and sweats, White in a black shirt and dark jeans. You were unsure as to why you felt so shaken when you pressed your fingers between the valley of their pecs, your tongue heavy in your mouth. You blamed it on the six-day dry-feast the idiots put you in, and the mere thought of finally getting your way was exhilarating. 

“This is what’s going to happen,” you say with no room for arguing, your gaze meeting theirs through your eyelashes. “We are all going to fuck. There’s three of us, and I’m the one who wants to be satisfied, so this will be a threesome. Fuck me any way you want, I don’t care, but whoever starts fighting first gets cucked.”

Red is staring at you with his piercing turquoise eyes, White’s gaze dropped to your tracing finger on his chest. But the consensus was the same.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A warm, fluttery smile breached your face, and you nodded.

“Good… now, fuck me.”

They begin almost immediately. Two initially contradicting forces of fire and ice abandoning their internal surge for power to appease and please you. There’s no stopping the shiver and the moan trapped in your throat when two identical sets of hands you knew and craved the touch of finally made contact with your body. Red’s hands were on your breasts, groping and massaging your mounds of flesh while his mouth pressed tantalizing kisses along the curve of your neck, along the length of your clavicle. 

White had dropped down, his mouth pressing hot, kisses against the flesh of your thighs and your ass. His fingers pushing the sleeping shorts you still wore, his calloused fingers brushing against your clit. 

You openly moaned, hands pressing against both White and Red for some form of support.

“You’re already so wet,” White groans his observation, his finger slicking itself against your wet folds. 

You shake, your head nodding in full understanding as you began to rotate your hips against his finger. Of course, you were so wet, you thought, goosebumps flashing against your entire body when Red pinched your nipples through your light tank. 

“You try living with two of me and be denied every physical need,” you gasped, your voice pitching the moment Red’s teeth sank into the sweet spot on your neck the same time White’s finger curled within your walls. “Fuck…”

“It’s so cute when you whisper like that,” Red noted, his hands lifting your breast, tongue smoothing over your irritated skin. “I bet you didn’t mind our quirk accident because you wanted something like this.”

Now that was definitely something you couldn’t disagree about.

But with the way your body was so desperately deprived and how there were two sources of knowledge on you. Knowing the perfect sensations on your sensitive parts of your body, you pushed them away.

Grey and turquoise blazed into your skin, but you huffed, grabbing them by the hands and pulling on them.

“I want the bed,” you affirm, your cheeks feeling warm, your eyes keeping on theirs. “We’re fucking on the bed.”

“Of course, my love,” they responded together. And the heat in your body seemed to multiple when you pushed through into the room. 

Guiding them into the bedroom, you didn’t release their hands until they were sitting down onto the bed—Red on your right, white on your left.

Their stares are expectant, already clouded with horny, lustful need when you let go of their hands. Before they could ask what was next, you leaned in, opposite hands pressing to each of their crotches, and they both groaned lightly in their chest. You palmed them through their clothes, your cunt throbbing with the fact that you enjoyed watching their hooded, lusting expressions bore into your figure. Biting down onto your lower lip, you stopped a tethering moan from escaping when both their hands grabbed onto your ass.

They fondled the flesh as you continued to palm them, the cock buried within their clothes growing harder and larger with every quick movement of your hand. They both were so hot and dangerously heavy hidden away in the confines of the pants, and you wanted nothing more than to be choking and stuffed full of them both.

But you don’t get your way just yet.

“On the bed,” Red suddenly commands, and you stop a squeak from embarrassingly ripping from your throat. You stumble on the large bed, and both Red and White shift so that there’s enough room for you to be perched between them. Ass on Whites side, face on Red’s, and you feel your body freeze when everything picks up speed.

White’s lips are on the back of your thigh, kissing and nibbling on the sensitive skin while his fingers take up rubbing your cunt again. Your body trembles under his ministrations, hips shifting, and bucking against him as he once again buries his fingers into your blistering core.

But with the moans singing from your lips, you felt transcended. The way that your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each shift of White’s fingers proving that point, you focused in on Red, who had shoved your breasts over the hem of your shirt. You whimpered loudly when his fingers pinched at both nipples, tugging at the pebbled flesh. 

“Such pretty noises,” Red whispered, his nose brushing against yours, and you throbbed with the need to be kissed. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “Please give me more, more, please.”

Red inhaled sharply, his eyes blazing like blue fire before finally, he crashed his lips against yours, unable to hold back anymore, and you cried in glorious acceptance. You kissed Red back with everything you had. Your lips slick with your joining, mixing saliva while he continued to press bruising, heated kisses to your mouth. Your hands at one point had attached themselves onto his biceps, and you found your fingernails to be digging through his skin, but Red didn’t care.

He continued to play with your hanging, sore tits, his tongue entering the barricade of your mouth as he kissed you again, and again, and again.

His name spilling from your mouth until you froze, your back tightening the second something more was happening behind you.

White’s finger, covered in the slick of your essence, was probing through your ass all while he continued to finger fuck your cunt.

“Aw, you do like it when my finger goes into your ass!” White chirped, his finger pressing further past your tight rim, sending your mind into a flurry of thoughts and feelings at the sensation of being stretched out, while you collapsed onto the mattress. Red abandoned you. “Your ass always looks so fucking hot when it takes in my finger. It’s like it's sucking me back in whenever I try to pull out. So. Fucking. Hot.”

You could do nothing but choke out White’s name the second the finger curled in your ass and the fingers buried in your cunt came together to press between the thin wall separating the two cavities, and you keened at the feeling.

“White!” you yelled, your eyebrows furrowed in your pleasure, your hips bucking back against his hands. “More! I need more!”

It was at that moment his fingers abandoned your holes, but before you could cry at the loss, Red was back in front of you, naked as the day he was born. But his cock was hard, pressed against his stomach, standing tall and erect for you to suck.

“Come on, angel,” Red spoke, tilting your chin up so that he may press another sizzling kiss to your mouth. “Play with my cock.”

Still, on your knees, your back arched, mouth entirely occupied with Red’s mouth, your hand blindly grabbed his cock and began to jerk him off. You kissed him harshly, thoroughly, not wanting to let him go without exploring and feeling every little thing you could offer while you run your hand up and down his length.

You fully moaned into his mouth when his fingers lightly brushed against your neck, showing how sensitive you are. He runs his hand all the way down to your hips and latches onto your ass cheek. You mewl against him, wondering just why he was doing that when something hot and wet pressed against your cunt.

Breaking off the kiss immediately, you turned around to see White’s face buried into your ass, but his tongue was meeting your cunt with every languid lick.

“Shit!” you curse, your hips bucking and moving to better find White’s tongue against your core. But before you could find your spot, his tongue abandons your cunt and presses back against your tight, tight rim.

Trembling, your eyes roll to the back of your head, all while Red reclaims your lips.

Your hand encompassing his cock began to pick up in speed as White seemed to interchange between tongue fucking your ass and cunt. Whimpering needs only resonated from your mouth into Red’s as you jacked him off sloppily, messily at heightened speeds while you begged for more.

It didn’t take long before they both pulled away from you, and you in your heat daze, teared up as you watched both Red and White step onto the floor, their twin, identical cocks out, leaking with precum that called your name. You didn't need to be told what to do at this point as you stumbled out of bed, falling to your knees right between them.

With Red’s cock in your left hand, you pulled him into your mouth, your right hand expertly, yet blindly jerking White off. You pushed your head as far down as it could go along Red’s cock, your eyes trying to keep on his the entire time. 

Relishing in the fact that his cock went unchanged, your tongue swirled around Red’s cock, your head bobbing along his length, and Red smirked down at you, pressing the tears in your eyes away. Pulling away with a string of saliva connecting his head to your lip, you alternated onto White’s cock, your left hand continuing to jerk off Red.

White groaned at the sudden heat, immersing against his length, his hips snapping into your mouth as you took him all the way in. You had been dating Shouto for a few years now. You were definitely capable of taking him in your mouth in one go without trouble. But it just felt so different with one of your hands stroking off Red, and White’s hands grabbing your head while he thrust into you.

Before you could settle on White’s cock, you switched back to Red, who decided to command your every little instruction.

It quickly became a game between Red and White on who could make you choke and moan the loudest as they fucked your mouth and throat mercilessly. You, thankfully, were entirely enjoying it, your soaked pussy rubbing against your tight panties, and you rutted against the fabric trying to relive the building, fast pressure in your core. 

“Fuck,” White snarled when Red had you completely choked against his cock. His cock was shoved as far down your throat as it could manage, and he kept you there. Painful tears falling from your eyes while your throat struggled to remain relaxed despite the burning lack of oxygen. “Keep her there, Red. Don’t let her move.”

Red, who was only entranced by you for quite some time, looked up with amusement at his other half.

“What, you like this?” Red asked a taunt hidden in his voice but was buried under so much more throbbing lust. “You like seeing y/n choking against a cock?”

You whimpered against Red, your throat muscles fluttering and flaring along his length-- what was he planning?

“Who wouldn’t want to see y/n like this,” White breathed, and you shook at the nonverbal agreement that passed between the two of them.

You whined at the unknown, finally being released from Red’s cock, and you spluttered and coughed, drool and saliva drenching your chin while you turned towards White, ready to do the same. But you shrieked, the wind knocking out of you when they both picked you up from the floor and tossing you onto the mattress. You bounced when you landed. 

Both Red and White quickly moved to remove your clothes until you were naked as well, their eyes glimmering with their treaty, a million ideas undoubtedly pouring through their mind. 

White is on you first. He joins you onto the mattress, his lips pressing and languidly moving against yours, and you moan against him.

“We’re going to start fucking you now, baby,” White whispers against your mouth, his thumb running up against your still spit slicked chin. With just his finger alone, he moves you so that you’re on your hands and knees before him, waiting like an obedient pet. Your eyes flutter open, just barely opened so that you could meet his stormy grey eyes while his thumb slips over your bottom lip and into your mouth. “I hope you’re ready to be fucked… Red?” he called, his thumb pressing down on your tongue, instinctively flaring your gag reflex.

“Hm?” Red answered back, and you stilled when something hot and heavy smacked against your ass. 

Once, twice.

“Fuck her right.”

Silence.

You whimpered against White’s thumb, your eyes watering while you studied his determined, playful face. There's a chuckle from behind you, and you shiver at the fact that you could practically smell the knowing smirk on his face.

“Obviously.”

And then it happens.

Red slams his cock into your awaiting, wet pussy with a pleased groan while you lurched forward onto White at the mighty snap of Red’s hips. Naturally so, you screamed Red's name, your pussy singing in absolute love over the fact that he’s buried entirely within you, undoubtedly claiming you once again.

Before you could sing your praises for Red, White’s shut you up by replacing his thumb with his cock, and you’re forced silent.

When they worked against each other, they were annoying, irritating, and often horrifying, but together? Well, as Red’s cock shoved more profound and deeper into your womb, and White’s cock conquested your throat, you hummed with the pleasure they brought. Together they were powerful, commanding, and unbreakable, and if the sounds of your wet pussy and choking mouth were to prove it, it was more than just a fact. 

You struggled to keep up with Red’s slamming hips, the girth of his cock stretching you out in an all too familiar way, and White driving cock that choked you out every time you moved. You felt dizzy with the thumping, tingling pleasure, your hand that held onto White’s hips clutching his skin, while your other one manipulated and circled your clit.

You wanted to cum. You wanted to so badly.

“You sound so hot choking on his cock,” Red laughed, his hand coming down to spank your jiggling ass with a single, powerful thwack. You bristled at the sensation. “Do more, sweetheart, I know you can do more; we’ve experienced you doing more.”

You garbled as White smirked down at you, your eyes just barely open enough to see the knowing look in his eyes.

“Use that little slut mouth of yours better, baby,” White taunted, his hand coming to pat your hollowed cheeks roughly, quickly, in a few stinging slaps. 

This is what you liked, you realized as you pulled away from his length, mouth swallowing his balls with heightened eagerness, your hand rubbing his length as you did so. White moaned your name, his head dropping in his pleasure as you did so. 

It must have done something for Red, too, because his fingers dug into the skin on your waist, his powerful thrusts becoming quicker, shorter thrusts that moved you against his cock with rattling power and craving lust. You whimpered against White’s balls and cried out in pleasure-filled pain the moment Red spanked you again, and again, and again.

Your cunt was fluttering, squeezing, and beating in time to your heartbeat. The pleasure within you grew from a light warmth to a blazing heat. You cried for more, your knees and thighs shaking for more.

More friction, more fucking, more of Shouto.

“Turn around, you little cockslut,” White grinned, removing you from his balls. “It’s my turn to fuck your pretty little cunt.”

Whining, you did as you were told, your limbs feeling like lead as Red smoothed back the hair falling on to your face.

Before you were ready, not that you minded, their cocks reclaimed your holes.

It was different this time.

They fucked you differently, you realized when White enjoyed pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting back into you. His strokes and powerful thrusts send the coil in your stomach to grow tighter and tighter. But Red, fuck, Red had his fingers in your mouth, choking you with them as he slapped your cheek with his cock, his precum mixed with your slick smearing all over your cheek as he did so. 

“I want to make sure that you realize that me putting my cock in your mouth is a blessing,” Red coldly smirked, his eyes blazing with a whole other story. But despite it all, you nodded your head quickly. Altogether agreeing with the claim that you needed to earn his cock in your mouth again. 

“I kno thath,” you whine against his fingers, saliva shamelessly dribbling past your lips, your mouth closing to suck on his fingers. “I promith I’ll apprethciate your giff.”

He could try all he wanted, but Red was whipped for you too.

His cock immediately replaced his fingers, slamming to the depths of your throat, all while the wet noises of your throat and choking voices joined the squelching of your cunt. Your eyes rolled in your pleasure, your cunt thrumming with energy as Red’s hands encircled your throat, choking you while he fucked straight down your throat.

“You looked so pretty earlier when you couldn’t breathe,” Red snarled, his cock twitching in your throat the same time White’s cock twitched in your cunt. “I’m just -- fuck do that again -- trying to get you there… faster… Your throat really feels like your fucking pussy at times, shit.”

You whimper at that comparison as you forcefully clench your throat and cunt around both of your boyfriend's cock. 

But you vibrate when White’s finger traces your rim, his finger not disappearing into your wrinkled muscle, but stimulating it well past teasing. You pull off Red’s cock with a spluttering cough, your eyes burning, but you find White’s gaze immediately. 

“What’s going on, sweetness?” White asked, his eyes glimmering with knowledge of what you want already, but the slick fucker just had to ask.

Too bad you weren’t ashamed of shit around him.

“I want you to fuck my ass,” you moan, your hips slamming back against White’s still shifting cock, your hand clenching one of your asscheeks as you split yourself open for White. “Please fuck my ass.”

“Fuck!” they both seemed to growl, and without so much as a break, White switches from your ass and buries his length slowly into your needy, tight ass.

The pitchy, unstoppable moan from your mouth sends both Red and White into whimpering messes as you collapse onto the mattress, your chest heaving with your heightened stimulus. It was starting to hurt, your lack of orgasm, you just needed a bit more done to cum, and you wanted to.

“Where’s my dick?” White finally growls at you as he bottoms out entirely within you. You tremble at the question, body shaking with every stroke of his cock he makes afterward. “Where is it?”

“I-In my ass!” you wail, your ass clenching around him, trying to make him feel this heated pleasure as strongly as you were. “It’s in m-my ass!”

“Do you love my cock in your ass?” White snarls, his hands gripping your waist and slamming you back onto him, your ass squeezing with the sensation. You can’t speak; your mind is overloaded with feeling and emotion. “Why do I even bother? I know you love my cock in your ass.”

Red comes back into the equation, his hands grabbing your jaw and pressing your mouth against his into a searing kiss. You can hardly kiss him back, your mouth pathetically hanging open as he kisses your teeth, mouth, tongue. So, it shouldn’t shock you that in your near blissful blackout, Red hands your limp arms to White, who holds onto them.

His grasp and hold on your arms elevates you slightly off the bed, your back arched, and breasts exposed as he begins to jackhammer into your ass. You want to scream, you want to shudder and cry your sensations to the world, but Red interrupts once more by pressing his swollen, purpling head into your mouth, silencing you with gags and chokes while they both use you.

They both drive into you with ferocity and power, your body nearly limp and twitching with your ever still denied orgasm that refuses to back down, and the way the lack of oxygen makes you spin as Red’s balls clash against your throat in quick, succinct, patterns.

“Sit down, White,” Red snaps at White, and White, who was ever so entranced at how your ass was swallowing his cock, dumbly nods. “Y/n is about to cum, we need to make sure she cums correctly.”

You whine against Red’s cock, unsure if you heard him correctly when White drops your arms. But instead of falling forward as you thought you would, his relaxed arms wrapped around your waist tightly, bringing you down with him.

Your back was pressed against his chiseled chest. And you moaned at the sensation this angle brought in terms of depth and stretch. Your mouth, freed from Red’s cock, opened in a loud, scratchy moan, undoubtedly raspy from the abuse it went through from the vigorous face fucking.

“R-Red!” you cried, your legs shaking when White hooked his arms under your knees and spreading them out, exposing your wet, slick core to Red, who was merely watching. You shifted pathetically, wanting to have both of them on you, not just one. “Red, please!”

But, White’s hips began to thrust upward, resuming his fucking of your asshole, and you howled in pleasure as he breathed heavily, gasping in your right ear. But as your legs trembled, unsure if White would be able to keep your legs in such position, Red pressed on top of you, his weight keeping your legs spread, and his cock quickly slamming within your cunt.

You had one hand buried in White’s hair, the other slipping behind Red’s back when he pressed onto you. The second their cocks rubbed against each other through the oh so thin wall between your ass and your cunt, you screeched. The hand in White’s hair tugging at his roots harshly, and the hand on Red’s back drawing bloody mountains on his skin.

But this didn’t stop them, the slight pain you gave them doing nothing but making them growl in your ear, making your eyes cross in your oblivion while they continued to fuck you.

Sandwiched between them, your breasts crushed by Red’s chest, and your back buried into White’s chest, White let go of one of your legs that immediately latched around Red’s waist. Your eyes crossed, rolling to the back of your head, your mouth agape, but no noise coming out as every massive, hard thrust sent your soul into a new dimension. White’s hand sneaking between Red’s drilling hips and your cunt to pinch and pull at your clit as you shook like a leaf in a windstorm. You came without realizing it, your walls clenching like a vice against Red’s cock, and your ass clenching around White’s in tandem to your orgasm. Both of them moaning against your salty sweat skin, but neither one of them stopped.

Faster and faster, they thrust into you, gaining such speed and power that you felt akin to a ragdoll as they fucked you. They praised you for taking them both at the same time, senseless names, and wordless praise as you took them without a single wince of pain. You were theirs, they claimed, and they were yours. 

The sounds of their cock drilling into the wet caverns of your cunt and ass, the sticking shivering sound of their balls smacking your ass and cunt.

It was so much, growing to be more and more, until your orgasm was once again growing as you attempted to shift your weak, still trembling hips up and down their length, wanton gasps shrill on your tongue. Your body begging for more.

“Gonna cum,” they whispered together, his deep, raspy voice filling both of your ears, and you wailed as your own orgasm tipped once again.

“Cum in me, please cum in me!” you begged with everything you had.

And with your pleading heavy in the air, they came with you. You moaned at the feeling of the hot, sticky thick ropes of cum filling up both your holes, the cocks spasming uncontrollably within you as their hips continued to ride out their orgasms. Your chest heaves as their snapping hips become rolling thrusts until finally, they stop.

All three of you still joined, all three of you sweaty and tired.

When you pass out, you can barely hear them saying goodbye.

…

…

You wake up, your body sore and bruised around midnight.

You groan, stretching out your neck as you realize that there is no body on top of you or beneath you as that was definitely how you all had fallen asleep a few hours ago. Panic filled you when the bed was empty, and you rushed to your feet, cursing when your knees buckled out from under your weight.

Crashing to the floor, you groaned as you lay there.

“What are you doing on the floor?” an all too familiar voice asked you, and you looked up to see if it was Red or White.

You blinked when instead the once two distinctive heads blurred into one, and you stared at your finally normal boyfriend.

“S-Shouto!” you cried, your body weakly pressing off the floor, your arms stretching to you.

Shouto smiled warmly, softly, the perfect in-between of the facial expressions Red and White would give you.

“I’m back, sorry for scaring you like that,” he whispered as he joined you on the floor, letting your arms wrap him into a firm hug, not wanting to let go as you pathetically began to cry.

The two of you lay naked together on the floor, his soft apologies gathering in your ear as you held him tightly, having missed him entirely.

“Do you remember?” you eventually asked long after Shouto managed to bring you back into the bed. You lay curled into his side, your fingers tracing the marks on his body that you had left on both Red and White. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Yes… and I remember how it all felt too.”

“Ew… perv…”

“Try that again? Ms. ‘I-want-your-cock-in-my-ass’.”

“SHOUTO!”