#not necessarily a paladin but you could build it that way

[allyouneediskilly]

tbh ill never forgive capcom for getting rid of mystic knight in dragons dogma 2.

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | midoriya izuku, part two

Midoriya's route of soulmate trope. Part one here. “this doesn’t match the manga’s canonical ending!” correct. and isn’t that sexy? please read this route last, as it contains spoilers for all other routes. warnings: female reader. manga spoilers up to 411ish. angst. sexual content. moderate injury (not reader). indulgently meta on behalf of the author. a note: some meta elements in this route may lead you to think it’s the true route for this fic. not necessarily. the true route is whichever one is your favourite :) ~57k overall. ~17.5k for part two.

Life got better afterwards. Infinitely better to focus on the part of your life that sings rather than what you lack. You weren’t over it, of course, but you were growing. Choosing Izuku made little joys shine.

You finished jigsaw puzzles in the kitchen together. You went with him to the farmers’ market to get his brie. You sent him memes during long work days. On a late night, you caught him while he was sitting on a street lamp’s overhang to deliver a bento.

He’s beautiful. Izuku’s beautiful. When he’s playing as a paladin in DND in Tenko’s room, when he’s across the room at a press conference and you nearly walk into someone because you’re watching him, when you slide a cup of double-sweet tea across the kitchen table and he blinks blearily up at you with a throaty, “Yeah, baby?” Not beautiful just in his body, of course, but because his personality’s written all over his face, and who he is shines; he beams and shimmers, and you’ve discovered you need to see it.

Sunlight, after all, keeps you alive.

You still haven’t kissed him yet. The timing hasn’t felt right.

The closest you’ve come to it was when you were helping him transport snacks for his employees from his car inside his agency, and halfway up the ramp, he stopped pushing his cart. Ensuring your cart wouldn’t roll away, you doubled back to Izuku, muttering under his breath and pinching his lower lip.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, gracious,” he said, breaking from his stream of thought and gripping the cart’s handle again, “I was just thinking. The cobblestone façade for the building entrance is terrible design. It’s difficult for the wheels on the carts to roll up smoothly, so it’s got to be infinitely worse for wheelchair users and others who use wheels to get around. This needs to be smooth concrete to be more accessible. It’s strange,” he said, pushing the cart again, more slowly this time, to watch how the wheels engaged with the cobblestone façade, “I’m disappointed in myself for needing to live with a temporarily disabled body in our dream reality and a couple of snack carts to realise this.” He paused when you reached your cart, waiting for you before entering the building. “I think I should spend time thinking about how to make this agency more accessible. Consult some experts. At the very least, I should commission Cementoss to smooth out the front.”

As Izuku held the door to the elevator for you, you were overwhelmed with the realisation that the only reason this man wasn’t helping more people was that he literally did not know in what capacity he could be helping. So long as he was learning, so long as he was gathering information about new people and the ways they lived, he was going to put the information and his authority to use to make others’ lives easier. This was…an infuriatingly, aggravatingly, desperately needed, good man. And so shines a good deed in a weary world.

And you would’ve kissed him for it, but you couldn’t reach him across the elevator with two carts in between.

***

You were on set the day that Izuku filmed for the pilot of Uraraka’s miniseries, Ad Astra Per Aspera. You garnered that it was a space adventure-comedy sort of thing, and the first episode was supposed to be a subversion of expectations: Izuku’s character is set up to be the main character, playing into genre and gender expectations, but halfway through the episode, he dies so that Uraraka’s character can take over as the lead. It worked on several levels: one, reminding audiences that even in real life, Uraraka didn’t need anyone, particularly Izuku, to be capable, and two, ensuring Izuku would only need a one-episode contract.

Right now, they were filming an ensemble scene in a seedy, space bar, with the initial band of characters getting to know each other through all interrogating this one suspect simultaneously. For most of the scene, they had Izuku straddling a chair backwards, his character’s army insignia sash tied snugly around his waist to emphasise it, arms resting on the back of the chair while he looked down at the suspect with disdain.

At first, the script had had Izuku’s roguish, pseudo-Han Solo character smoking, but that morning, you’d walked into a conversation between the screenwriter and the director about how showing the number-one hero smoking might have negative effects on really young kids. Thus they changed it to Izuku sexily eating fruit, but even that had its problems: surely the same kind of fruit that grows on Earth wouldn’t be available in this shitty bar in a different galaxy entirely?

So, they had you peeling kiwis for each take, and without its characteristic brown skin, kiwis could pass as some sort of space fruit. You felt a little silly, with all the peelings piling up in your lap, but now you supposed you could put production assistant on your résumé.

“They have him biting into like an apple,” you said to Monoma, also involved in the production for his clothing collaboration with Uraraka to promote the series, “Why are they having him eat it like that? That can’t be any good.”

Monoma licked his finger and flicked the page of his magazine, crossing his ankle to rest on his opposite knee. “Defamiliarises the fruit from the audience because we’re not seeing it eaten in a typical way. Next question.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, jabbing your kiwi-peeling knife his direction, “It’s going to ruin the scene if he bites down into the ring of seeds. That’s very recognisable.”

Raising a brow, Monoma looked up from his magazine. “Surely you’re accustomed to telling Midoriya how hard to bite down by now.”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and returned the knife to your lap, and you pulled your jacket more closely around you instead of answering, scanning the ceiling for what vent was the source of the cold.

“Oh, are you not prepared to be on a film set?” asked Monoma, indulgently settling into his puffy coat, “They keep the set cold so that the actors don’t overheat under the lights.” He closed his magazine and set it over the arm of his chair and strained for his messenger bag on the floor. “What’s up?”

“I’m not working the show—am I allowed to go to catering? My mouth is dry. Plus, there might be something better to peel,” you said, picking up your next kiwi, “I don’t really—hm.”

Your words caught in your throat, because across the room, Izuku was, in character, licking kiwi juice up the side of his arm, from mid-forearm to his palm. You didn’t realise Monoma was offering you a bottle of water and chapstick from his bag until he jostled you with it.

“Thank you,” you said, accepting it and unscrewing the lid, and after you’d drunk enough, you picked up the unopened chapstick, examining it. “Aren’t these supposed to be, I don’t know, less spherical?”

“I thought you’d appreciate that. It’s supposed to be one of the tie-in lip balms for the series. They’re doing flavours based on some of the characters.” Monoma pulled out a few more lip balms from his bag. “We’re still working on the packaging, so they’re not out yet. That one’s supposed to be Midoriya’s.”

“Explains why it’s green, then,” you said, popping off the spherical cap, “How original. Means they were thinking more of him and not the character he’s playing. Is it mint?”

“Matcha,” said Monoma, as you smeared some on your lips, feeling better almost instantly, in the dry cold of the set, “and lemon. Which wasn’t my first choice; originally I suggested matcha and vanilla, but what do I know. Do you like it?”

You nodded mid-drink from your water bottle.

“Does it taste like him?”

You choked, water going through your nose, nearly letting kiwis and peelings tumble from your lap while a grinning Monoma thumped your back. “Man, that wasn’t even clever. If you’re this easy to fluster,” he was saying, “I don’t even want to imagine how much fun Midoriya must have with you.”

“I need you to never open your mouth again,” you said, wiping your mouth with your sleeve, and you cleared your throat. “Now. I am invoking the no-judgments clause of our friendship.”

“What do you need?”

“I wanted your advice on video editing,” you said, pulling out your phone, “I’ve been putting together this, uh. Thing. And before I post it, I wanted you to check that it’s as good as it can be. It’ll be my first time posting in a fan community I’ve joined, and I want it to be good. Try not to make fun of me for it.”

Monoma only had to watch a few seconds of footage, the chorus of NCT’s “Baby, Don’t Stop” coming in softly through your phone’s speakers, before he looked back up at you in condescension. “This is a fancam for Midoriya’s nipples,” he said, frowning.

“See, I knew you’d make fun of me for it.” You scooted your chair closer to Monoma’s, and while you peeled kiwis, he critiqued your editing and helped you make it better. You were both so absorbed in the video that you didn’t notice that the film crew had taken a break until Izuku came up to talk.

“Hey,” he said with a wave, startling you and Monoma out of your skins (he hastily shoved your phone back to you before Izuku could see the screen). “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” You held up your knife and latest kiwi. “Being on a film set is a bit different than I’d pictured, but it’s still neat to watch everyone work.”

“Ah,” said Izuku, mouth nearly a straight line as he took the peeled kiwi from you, “I started out the morning being quite fond of these. I’ll be content if I don’t see one for a while after this. Are you cold?” He nodded at how much you snuggled into your jacket. “I can go get my coat from the green room for you.”

“You’re not? It’s frigid in here.”

Izuku shook his head. “It’s the lights.”

“Yeah, Monoma mentioned something like that,” you said, glancing towards Monoma—and you could’ve sworn you caught Monoma staring at Izuku’s nipples through his shirt. “Is this your only costume, by the way?” You reached for your water again.

Midoriya smiled, teeth cutting into his lower lip. “More or less. I’m not wearing anything for my death scene.”

You stopped the bottle before it reached your mouth. “I’m sorry. What?” You cracked a grin. “Are you telling me you have a nude scene?”

“Nothing’s shown,” he said, smiling down at you, scooting out of the way of a crewman, and tossing the kiwi to himself.  “I don’t think I mind. Women have to be nude in movies a lot, so I’m fine with helping to balance it out. I’m told it’s supposed to be non-sexual nudity, anyway.”

You sat up in your seat, taking another drink before speaking. “How noble. What’d they say about it?”

“So, I was in costuming and makeup earlier because of an effects shot; it’s the last shot I’m in before I get killed. They were explaining that I have to be completely nude for it; it’s actually pivotal that the spaceship shard that kills me slices from here—” Izuku drew a line from his upper thigh to just below his nipple (Monoma’s eye twitched). “—to here, so I can’t be wearing anything. They want me levitating, horizontal to the ground, and I was describing to the costumer that the shot is actually really similar to this effects shot in an episode of Star Trek—Next Gen, season three, episode thirteen, ‘Deja Q,’ and I was asking the costumer and the head makeup artist if I should put some sort of makeup on my ass, because I only have freckles on the top curve of my asscheeks; the lower curve doesn’t exactly see the sun—but my character, with the UV light in his bedroom, where he gets killed—he’s getting proper sun on his full ass, but if makeup were to put fake freckles on my ass, it’d be extremely obvious that they’re fake, especially in contrast to the real ones. But we couldn’t get to a decision about it before call time, because we got so wrapped up in that none of the cock socks —because that’s what they’re called, apparently, those things that’re meant to protect your modesty—well. None of them fit. And I was just about to bring up that same episode of Star Trek, because John de Lancie had the same issue, but Uraraka came and got me so that we could start,” said Izuku, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dear God, you’re in love with him.

You’re in love with the biggest nerd on the planet, and something was deeply, deeply wrong with the universe, because you weren’t currently kissing him within an inch of his life.

“But I’m hoping we finish this scene soon, at least,” Izuku was saying, tongue rubbing the inside of his cheek, as if it weren’t a crime punishable by death that his mouth wasn’t on yours at the moment, “because my lips are all dry from how acidic the kiwis are; I may need to stop by makeup again to ask if they have any sort of moisturising sealant, or something.”

“I gave your girlfriend some lip balm earlier,” said Monoma, as quick on the uptake as you, zipping up his bag to hide the other flavours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it.

“Yeah,” you said, mind blank except for you loved him you loved him you loved him, aggressively yanking off the chapstick’s cap and applying more to your own lips before you stood (kiwi peelings falling to the floor) and grabbed Izuku’s face to kiss him.

He floundered. Froze. Held his breath. Which, sure, at this point it was more of a smushing of faces rather than a kiss, but you heard the tiniest clearing of his throat before he kissed you back in earnest, and nothing else mattered; everything else was just white noise. It was as if you didn’t even have matcha or lemon or kiwi to consider but instead just Izuku, Izuku distilled, sunshine and warmth, and oh, his hand was gliding up the side of your neck, the span of his hand wider than that of your throat, to play with your earlobe, and he was opening his mouth, sucking your lower lip inward just slightly, and—and you had to break away to breathe, and you wished you didn’t have to.

Chest heaving, Izuku’s lips chased yours after the initial separation, and he settled for resting his forehead against yours. “To think that I was going to introduce you to Uraraka’s soulmate today, as a final nail in the coffin that I belong to you. Now,” he said with a heady rasp, nudging his nose against yours, “I’d think you know that already, and I’d rather smuggle you back home to have you all to myself.”

“You’ll have me later,” you said, giving him another short kiss and appreciating how dejected he looked when it didn’t last for more than a second. “How much time do we have? Why don’t you still introduce me to Spike? Is she here?”

Izuku took a deep breath before releasing you, and he nodded, taking your hand. “She’s over there with Uraraka. I wanted you to see how differently Uraraka treats me compared to Spike. It’s evident that’s she really in love now.”

“Lead the way,” you said, waving towards Monoma, who was determinedly reading his magazine.

Uraraka and Spike were in conversation with the director, and while the two of you waited to the side, you looked Spike over: tall and imposing with blue-black hair in a harsh bob, and huh, she’s really putting that scar around her neck on display, isn’t she? Looks like she’s been beheaded.

“Wait a minute,” you said, whispering to Izuku, “I know her.”

“True,” said Izuku, crossing his arms as he leant down to your height, “But I figured I should introduce you in this context.”

You shot him a look. “Wait, how would you know she’s a cashier I met in Alderside? Back when I was investigating your Jackrabbit stuff?”

“That’s what you were thinking of?” It was Izuku’s turn to look confused, and, laughing under his breath, he pulled you by the elbow away from everyone, until he was sure that no one would overhear. “Sweetheart, you know that Spike is just Toga Himiko transformed, right?”

“What?” you said so loudly that people looked over. Izuku rubbed his hands up and down your arms to quiet you, so you dropped your voice. “How would I know that? Where would I have gotten that information?”

“I thought I’d told you,” said Izuku, grinning and shaking his head, “Toga has been at a local rehab, Sakura Grove, and Uraraka had been visiting for a while before they found out they were soulmates. They, uh. Both have matching symbols on the underside of their tongues.”

“I’m assuming I shouldn’t ask how they found out.”

“Toga—sorry, we should say Spike since we’re in public—Spike still lives at Sakura Grove but has been given a lot of privileges for good behaviour for this long. One of her long-time handlers doesn’t leave campus much and has consented to let Spike use her appearance, within reason. And to be fair, they’ve mostly used the transformation to go on dates,” said Izuku, glancing over her shoulder at them, “It's good to see them both so happy.”

The director ended the break before you could speak to them, and, with a final kiss to Izuku’s cheek, you left the set, went home, crawled into Izuku’s bed for the first time, and tried not to fall asleep.

***

But you did fall asleep, inevitably, and you spent an annoyingly long time in the dream world listening to Tenko tell Granddaddy Slapkins that Touya loved him very much before Izuku’s body stirred in his bedroll.

You knelt at his side while he pushed himself upright. “What took you so long?”

“I apologise,” he said, rubbing his eye as he accepted the slice of toast you had ready for him, “It’s just that I finally had a particular woman in my bed, and I took a moment to admire how gorgeous she is when she sleeps.”

“You sap,” you said, and you held up a phial of the soulwalking potion. “We need to talk without eavesdroppers for a moment.”

You got to the spirit realm before Izuku did, since he had to finish his toast, and when his glowing, green-tinged soul materialised across from you in the campfire circle, you pounced on him, pushing him back down to lie on his mirrored bedroll, hands planted on either side of his head, and you kissed him, heat blossoming from his lips, the only source of warmth on this side of reality. You hummed into it and raised a hand to trace along his jaw, but Izuku gripped the hair at the nape of your neck and yanked your mouth off of his, holding you in place.

“I thought,” he said, eyes half-lidded, chest swelling underneath you, “that we were here to talk.”

“Oh, stop it. Like I could make out with you in front of our friends,” you said, leaning down towards him again, but Izuku tightened his grasp so that you couldn’t move more than an inch (at the pressure at the back of your neck, your eyes fluttered shut). “Oh? Have I done something wrong?”

Izuku raised his free hand, his index finger tracing along your cheekbone before tapping your lips. “Yes,” he said, dragging the syllable out, “You aren’t kissing me like you love me.”

“Tell me what to do, then.”

Izuku blinked slowly, eyes taking on a hint of the OFA glow. “All right.” He let his hand fall to the side. “I want you to stick your tongue in deeply, as if you’re desperate to keep me near. You need to tangle our tongues together,” said Izuku, tilting his head backward to expose the jut of his Adam’s apple, “and suck them towards you. If you can handle that, then we’ll graduate you to the next class.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding when he released your hair, but you weren’t going to give it to him immediately. You shifted your weight to one arm as you slated your lips against his, finger-combing through his hair with your other hand while your tongue swiped over his lower lip, replaced, after a moment, with teeth gently tugging. Izuku parted his lips and accepted your tongue into his mouth, lips moving with yours, while you slid your tongue against his, guiding them with the tip of your tongue towards your own mouth, and you gave a soft nip to his tongue that made him hiss.

“Now,” you said, panting, moving to sit upright, “Surely that was—”

Izuku jerked you down by your necklace to capture your lips again, pinning you against him and completely reversing the suggestion of who was in charge, and you daren’t pull away, lest the chain of your necklace break. Brow furrowed, Izuku groaned into the kiss as he shifted his hips underneath you, and, tongue feeling around the roof of your mouth, he raised a knee for you to straddle and guided your hip so firmly that you were forced to grind down on it.

He released your necklace, mouthed, “Sit back,” and moved your hand to steady yourself on his sturdy chest, clutching your hand to his pec before joining his other hand on your hips to make you rock them. After a moment, a hand trailed upwards towards your shirt, trying to get underneath it, but once he realised he’d have to undo layers of medieval clothing, Izuku huffed and simply pressed his wide palm down hard against your lower stomach, staring you down while you ground against his thigh, quick snaps of OFA lightning sparking around his forearms as you went a bit glassy-eyed and flushed, despite the layers of fabric between you.

Izuku drew you down again, shivering in the moment your lips connected with his, kissing you hard for a final, few seconds before pulling away. “Good Lord,” he said, and perhaps it’s because you’ve been kissing, but his voice sounded sweeter. “I have never kissed you before today. I haven’t seen you, completely bare, before today. Yet I’ve never so thoroughly devoted my heart to anyone besides you. I know I’ve never felt this close with anyone.”

“And you have eight people larking about inside you,” you said, tucking a loose curl behind his ear.

“And I have eight people larking about inside me,” said Izuku, nodding, “I don’t know how I’ve lived without you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but today’s been—yeah. I felt like I could say it today.”

“You don’t have to say it, exactly. It’s been…subtext.” You tapped your fingers in a ripple on his pec. “But I appreciate it very much.” You dragged your fingers down his chest, catching fabric, but before you could reach the ties of his trousers, Izuku caught your hand, flattening it against his abdomen.

“No,” he said, smiling, “Not yet. The first time you have me, I want us to be in our reality, in our own bodies. As real and true as it can be.”

“That’s fine. Have anything special in mind?”

“Yes, actually. All according to my ludicrously evil plan. Actually, I—” Izuku frowned and sat upright, helping you off of him. “Actually, we need to get out of the spirit realm first. I think I’ve put together the pieces for how we can make Shinsou a frappe, and I want to see if it works.”

You clicked your tongue. “Izuku, why the fuck are you thinking about that? You literally have a boner right now.”

“That’s not—ignore it,�� said Izuku, bending his leg to conceal it from you, “But if we’re going to make lo—have sex in the real world, then we should get other stuff done while we’re here. I’m thinking that we can achieve the frappe taste from your tea ceremony, and we might be able to get the texture and temperature through experimentation with Todoroki’s ice magic—”

“You are bonkers,” you said, leaning back on your hands, “and I don’t wanna have to witness that conversation. I…you go back first. I’m going to chill here for a bit; I need to collect my thoughts about what I want to plan for when we sleep together. I won’t even be able to hear my own thoughts if everyone’s blabbering at once. Now, get.”

Izuku waved goodbye, fading into the grey as he climbed back into his body, and gosh, it really was so much colder without him here. Well, if you transformed back into a cat, you’d be a bit warmer…And then, surely it wouldn’t hurt if you curled up in a ball while you daydreamed…tucked your little head underneath the tip of your tail…started to plan about what you wanted to be wearing, what you wanted the bedroom to look like, but you didn’t get very far…

***

You blinked awake to Izuku’s defined bicep in your face, his bedsheet pulled up to your chin, and you breathed in the scent of his laundry detergent deeply.

“Oh!” Izuku removed his reading glass to set them and his book on his bedside table, and he flipped onto his side to look at you, one hand cradling your cheek. “Are you all right? Does anything feel strange?”

“Uh.” You assessed your body for, like, anything bleeding out. “No. Situation normal.”

“Good.” Izuku let out a breath, shoulders losing their tension. “I was worried, but I figured it’d be good to have someone monitor you in the real world in addition to our dream world. They’re still—”

“Hold up,” you said, starting to feel more awake, “What happened?”

Izuku sat up, blankets pooling around his waist, and you followed. “After I went back to the group, everything seemed fine for about half an hour, but then your—well, you know how our bodies seem like they’re sleeping when we’re soulwalking, and that’s all. But, uh.” He held up his hands, as if he were holding a basketball, and then dropped them. “Your body—you know All Might’s soul crystal? You—when we eventually get back to his body to return it, he’s—he looks like this stone dragon, with a spot for the soul crystal to fit. You shifted into something similar, I think. You turned into Dango, not fully cat-sized, y’know, but very—small, statue-ish. A cat curled up in a ball. I could’ve fit you in my pocket. Your soul crystal was visible, but there was no way to remove it. And we were, of course, concerned,” said Izuku, grabbing you by the shoulders, “So I’m immensely relieved to see you like this. What did you do?”

“Dude, don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything; I can’t remember. I was—” You caught yourself and grinned. “Izuku. I don’t remember anything, because I was asleep.”

Izuku tilted his head. “What?”

“I fell asleep in the spirit realm, and I think that’s why—” You broke off to laugh. “Izuku, I got a good night’s sleep for the first time in almost a year. I wasn’t awake here or in our dream world. My consciousness got to rest.”

Izuku’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he hunched over on himself to mutter furiously under his breath, pinching his bottom lip. You reached over him to grab his phone off the bedside table, checking the time and if anyone needed him this early in the morning.

When you glanced over at him, he was still going at it, so you thumped his chest. “Hey. Don’t think about it too hard. I’d given up on trying to achieve dreamless sleep a while ago, because I—like seeing you all the time. So, don’t stress about if we can recreate it. Your brain is always going a thousand miles a minute. You can relax, y’know.”

“Well, perhaps I’d need to rest in the spirit realm, then,” said Izuku, sliding out of bed and pressing his hands to his lower back as he stretched. “By the way,” he said, coming out of a groan, “I wanted to share the most pertinent piece of information regarding our Sex Plan.”

“Don’t call it—whatever, Izuku. Go ahead,” you said, scratching your forehead.

“Two weeks from now—”

“You’re gonna make me wait two weeks?”

“Hey, no, listen,” he said, grinning, holding his hands up in defence, “There’s an emotionally resonant anniversary in two weeks, and besides, look who’s saying that. The woman who’s been stringing me along for almost a year.”

You threw your hands above your head. “I didn’t know it was you for a good part of that! I didn’t know you were real,” you said, tongue in your cheek as you smiled, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, “Okay, gorgeous. Lay it on me.”

Izuku bit his lip, rubbing it with his index finger before replying. “One. In two weeks, there’s a fundraiser we’re slated to attend. It’s hosted by the one we were at together three—well, four years ago. It’s grander in scale now, since the charity’s grown, but I think we can have a similarly adequate time. Two,” he said, raising another finger, “Since it’s more grandiose, our friends will be there. If you’ll allow me to be selfish, I’d like to take this opportunity to brag about our immense happiness.”

You laughed and covered your mouth. “Not even considering proving it to the press, since we haven’t made a public statement about our relationship in ages? Just our friends?”

“I admit that competition is a contributing factor,” said Izuku, taking his phone from you to return it to his bedside table, “but it’s not everything. I’m simply tired of suppressing my love for you, in public or otherwise.” He took both of your hands in his, and he knelt before you, parting your legs to get closer, to share your body heat. “Three,” said Izuku, much more seriously, “I think we should get married.”

You blinked. Okay. Not what you were expecting. “Right.” Your grip slackened, but his didn’t, keeping your fingers laced together. “To quell your fears before we have this conversation, my answer’s yes. Yes, I do wanna get married. I think it’d be wonderful. But.” You managed to free a hand from his grasp to cup his cheek. “Aren’t you concerned that I’m only just started showing you affection? That I’ve only recently opened my heart to you? Anyone else would’ve fallen for you immediately; of fucking course they would, once they saw how you shine,” you were saying, determinedly looking away from him, “but I’ve got all of these—strangely metaphysical hangups about whom I’m permitted to love, and I’m only just now starting to really get over them, and I can’t guarantee that they’ll ever really go away, so what if I can’t ever show you more love than I have recently—”

“Ohhh, my dear girl,” said Izuku, and he tapped a finger under your chin to get you to look at him, but you wouldn’t look away from the ceiling. “If we have to kiss to show we’re in love, then we’re not in love.” He tapped your chin again, and this time you met his eyes. “And we are. Haven’t you noticed? You’ve been showing me affection for so long. You’ve been proving your love to me in thousands of tiny choices you make every day, thinking of me with good intentions. Kissing is just another way of showing it. I’ve known you’ve loved me for some time now, even though you’ve been reluctant to admit it to yourself.”

You opened your mouth, scrunched your brow, and closed it. Because when you thought back, oh, he’s right; you’ve been living and working together for so long now, learning more and more about each other, both eager to dig into the minutiae of each other’s characters. He’s become a part of who you are, without trying much at all, and you haven’t noticed until he put the words in your mouth, and the feeling fucking flooded you, making your chest feel stretched like a balloon and pin-pricked in the same moment.

Because you don’t think about loving the sun. It’s just something you do. It comes built into your soul. You don’t have to announce it.

“Huh,” you said, really intelligently, “Cool. Then, yeah. Let’s get married.”

“Sweet,” said Izuku, standing and going to riffle through a dresser drawer, “I have the forms already; I hope you’ll forgive that I don’t have rings yet, because I figured you’d like to choose. I wanted to submit the soulmate quirk incident form as a marriage registration, but I didn’t know if you wanted to commit back then, so I’ve waited until—and if we can get the registration forms in by the end of the day, we’ll be in their system by Wednesday…”

You sat back on your hands, sinking into the mattress, and, feeling like you were in a dream, you listened to your soulmate ramble.

***

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

Wish you were here

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

The DJ keeps running tests of songs I thought I left behind in middle school

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

They got the Crawler as keynote speaker. Do you think he’ll sign something if I ask?

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

I’ve never seen this many chairs in my life

You were smiling at your phone as you walked through the doors of your hero agency, sweaty and sore from patrol. Izuku had to be dragged away from his agency around noon; the Foundation wanted him at the fundraising site early for setup, something about adjusting the heritage building for modern security. You waved to the front desk workers and stepped into the elevator, smushing the button for the ninth floor. More texts pinged before you could type a reply to the previous one.

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

THEY’RE TELLING ME I NEED TO MAKE A SPEECH

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

I WAS PLANNING ON DRINKING

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

I’VE BEEN WATCHING THEM SET UP THE OPEN BAR! AND YEARNING!!!!!!

YOU

lololol did someone else drop out of giving a speech

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

YES

YOU

okay lol. listen i just got back from patrol and am omw to my office. give me a minute to cool down, and then we can brainstorm what you can say

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

Wait, have you been away from your agency for more than six hours?

YOU

…yes? ito and i got lunch while we were downtown

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

You should have something waiting for you.

MIDORIYA 👉👈🌱💚

I asked them to put it in your office instead of the mailroom.

YOU

???

You sent the last while rounding the corner to your office, and you opened the door on a white garment bag hanging from your coatrack, the silhouette of the dress backlit by the late afternoon sun behind it.

Oh, this idiot.

You stopped at your desk, tearing off your support gear and dropping it unceremoniously next to a flat box, also from Izuku, at which you raised an eyebrow. But first, you grabbed a water bottle from your minifridge, chugged the whole thing, and wiped off sweat with a towel you kept behind your desk.

You began to undress, unfastening the front of your hero costume to let the A/C hit your skin, and you unzipped the garment bag, laughing through your nose at the dress: gorgeous, of course, but just a bit too slinky for your tastes and made out a material that wouldn’t be comfortable for all the hours you had to spend at this fundraiser. He must’ve been thinking with his dick.

So, you turned to the flat box on your desk, and you unfolded the tissue paper hiding a fuckin’ lingerie set, intricately lacy and deadly verdant. Izuku, you absolute nerd. Don’t you know that you can’t wear something with this heavy a design under something so blatantly silky as that dress? The lines will show. Plus—now that you were looking at the dress again—the straps on the bra were thicker than the straps on the dress, so you absolutely were not going to wear them together.

“Looks like he wanted something easy to take off,” came Ito’s voice from your doorway.

Grinning, you waved her in as you bent to retrieve another water bottle from your fridge. “Tell me about it. That dress screams easy access.”

“Like a horny couple at prom.” Ito caught the bottle you tossed to her, and she sat on your desk, one leg crossed over the other. “It’s lovely,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.

“It’s not exactly black tie,” you said after a long gulp, “It’s more of a sexy, expensive loungewear sort of deal. I don’t think I could wear that in public without everyone seeing everything that’s going on with me.” You gestured down your front. “I’m not gonna wear it.”

Ito rushed to swallow and wiped the back of her mouth. “Why not?”

“Think about it. What kind of idiot would I be if I hadn’t prepared an outfit for tonight? It’s not like the fundraiser is a surprise,” you said, pulling off the top of your hero costume, leaving you in your undershirt, “I’ve got something already. Izuku is damn lucky, though, because I’ll be able to wear that—” You nodded towards the lingerie. “—under the dress I have planned. Are you coming?”

Ito blinked. “Not at the moment.”

“I meant to the fundraiser.”

“Yeah, actually,” she said, twirling a strand of thick, white hair around her finger, “One of your friends invited me as arm candy. Said there was something I’ll want to see.”

***

Your PR advised you to arrive around 45 minutes late to avoid the initial buzz outside of the venue (some turn-of-the-century architect’s manor house before she died), but since that’d be 45 minutes of Izuku searching for you, you sneaked in through a staff entrance. You managed to locate your assigned table (thankfully in a corner, unfortunately near the front), where you hid your clutch in the pocket underneath your chair’s floral cover and listened to the musicians tune their instruments.

Where’s Izuku? They can’t need him every minute. You scanned the ballroom for his face among the early attendees, but he wasn’t to be found; some of your graduating class was already trickling in, and so, Asui, Hagakure, Ojiro, and Iida stopped by your table for a while.

“We’re over there with Yaoyo and Jiro, ribbit,” said Asui, pointing towards a far table, “I’m glad! Yaoyorozu has been to black tie events more than I have, so she can tell us if we mess up.”

“Come off of it, Tsu; we’ve been to black tie stuff before,” you said, smiling up at her from your seat, “It gets easier.”

Asui stuck out the tip of her tongue. “Forgive my cliché, but I always feel like a frog out of water no matter how many I attend.”

“Worry not!” Iida gestured stiffly. “If you’ll recall, I also come from, as you put it, old money! I can assist you if Yaoyorozu is otherwise occupied. However, you needn’t concern yourself with—”

“Why have they put you near the front?” Hagakure crossed her arms, evident by her elbow-length gloves, and held her clutch underneath her armpit. “There aren’t any awards being given out tonight. It’s just dancing and that silent auction.”

“No, but Izuku’s giving a speech,” you said, “Probably for convenience.”

“Either way, sorry about that,” said Ojiro, placing a hand on Hagakure’s shoulder, “I know you’re not too comfortable with being in everyone’s line of sight.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine. Though I remember this being a much smaller event. Has it grown that much?” you asked, eyeing the main entrance nervously, with how many people swarmed inside, “It’s—shadowy over here. The lights aren’t on us. It’s fine.”

“Ooh, I think they’re opening the bar,” said Hagakure, playing with the pendant of her necklace, “Good luck, and all. See you later!”

Not having the fortitude to brave the crowds yet, you stayed at your table, yanking out your phone to shoot Izuku a text.

YOU

have arrived. where are you???

Hearing the ding of a phone behind you, you turned over your shoulder and beamed as your soulmate approached.

“Hey, Izuku,” you said, standing to hug him, and oh, as you slid your arms around his neck, you breathed in the scent of his cologne (something like cedar and maybe apple?)—and that, paired with the way that he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you very slightly as he held you to his chest, the tips of your toes grazing the tile—made you just about black out. “Where have you been?”

“Back of house,” said Izuku, smushing his cheek to yours, savouring it, “They keep trying to give me more work. Something about how I’m too competent. But I can’t exactly say tonight is supposed to be some sort of psychosexual foreplay for my soulmate and me, can I?”

Your eyebrows shot upwards. “Oh, we’re getting right into it? I was hoping to have about half an hour in which I wasn’t horribly aroused.”

He laughed near your ear, the air puffing away some of your hair. “Relax. We’re not doing anything drastic, you know. Now,” he said, grip loosening, “let me look at you.”

You dropped your arms, but he held onto your waist at arms’ length while he looked you over, eyes half-lidded and warm. “Gorgeous,” said Izuku, wetting his lips, “Absolutely gorgeous. But. I believe I—” He cut himself off, and he stepped closer to you, speaking under his breath and looking for all the world like he was commenting on nothing more than the weather. “Aren’t you such a bad girl? Not wearing the dress I set out for you.”

Saliva weighed heavily on your tongue. He’s being pedantic, and clearly you’ve arranged for your dress to match his midnight black tux, with its subtle bottle-green embroidery, but the flowiness of your dress’s fabric contrasts how snugly tailored to Izuku’s body his suit is, particularly his thighs and shoulders, outlining every curve his muscles have. It’s as if his suit’s from a high-end version of Best Jeanist’s Moulded to Your Ass line, except he still manages to be a bit dorky, with his tiny lapel pin that read Suit Jacket.

It was messing with your head how dashing he looked, and he just called you bad girl, which you, unfortunately, were not immune to. Clearing your throat, you rubbed at your eye and resolved that you had to slow things down quickly, lest you walk around with soaked underwear the whole night.

Worse, that’s what your brain decided to bring up next. “I’m wearing what you told me to underneath it. Thought that’d be more important.”

“Oh,” said Izuku, sounding hoarse and bringing a fist to his mouth (was that a flash of OFA lightning?), “I didn’t—”

“Deku-san, sir,” came a voice from behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder, and—a Kazama? That was Kazama, or one of him, at least; Hero Commission personnel must be working the event—appeared. “You’re needed backstage.”

“Of course,” said Izuku, recovering in a single second and pulling down his suit jacket, and he leant in to kiss you on the cheek. “I’ll be back, love.”

You were alone hardly a minute before Monoma eased into the seat next to you. “Greetings and salutations,” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm, as he held up a champagne flute in toast.

“You didn’t bring me one?”

Instead, he slid you a glass bottle of sparkling water that he’d been hiding behind his back. “I know you usually don’t drink at these things. Pity they don’t have pink lemonade.”

You unscrewed the cap, leaning back in your seat when he did. “Do they have regular lemonade?”

“Of course not. Since when do people care about the non-alcoholic drinking crowd?” Monoma shrugged, tilting his chair back on two legs. “The dress work out well?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, brushing down your front, “Thanks for getting it made on such short notice; it’s really—”

“It’s fascinating from a design standpoint, because there are purely no so-called dark elves to pull a look from, as you wanted, in Lord of the Rings,” said Monoma, clanking his chair forwards again to dramatically steeple his fingers together. “The Moriquendi elves, of course, come closest by definition, since they have never seen the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, but considering that category of elves splits into several subcategories that I don’t think truly fit the spirit of the design you requested—maybe the Falathrim—but regardless, I’m thinking it was the right idea for my design team and me to simply adjust the palette from our Vanyar line, even though it goes against the lore, and people usually cut me off by now; are you all right?”

Honestly, you were still processing bad girl and how it went straight to your cunt. But you swallowed the sparkling water you were holding in your mouth and shook your head. “I’m fine. I think I’m just a bit put off that it seems like Izuku’s going to be away from me for a good part of the night.”

“We’ll ensure you’re not lonely,” said Monoma, tracing the rim of his glass, “In the meantime, would you like me to distract you? I’ve been keeping an eye on your fancam since we posted it; it seems to be doing well.”

Monoma pulled out his phone to scroll through the comments with you, and it served as a delicious distraction as the ballroom grew packed and noisy.

[video description: a Deku fancam set to NCT’s “Baby, Don’t Stop.” Clips from social media, photo shoots, behind-the-scenes of Ad Astra Per Aspera, and interviews flash in time to the beat of the song’s bridge, focusing on Deku’s nipples, both when deliberately on display and when accidental.]

igneousbastard: everyone say thank you to the production crew for making the set cold af and putting deku in the thinnest shirt known to man 🫡

midori-world: he is literally slutting himself out. can he fucking chill. in unrelated news i’m going to bite my hand off

blueberrybakugou: mr. deku……….

chargenut: hello i am going to obliterate this man

sakuraraka: okay i’ll just say it, since no one else will: BARK BARK BARK WOOF BARK

kirishimashairdye: shredding him with my teeth. putting him in my mouf like a fucken fuit Gummi

mmmmmidoriya: SUCKABLE.

dickuprint: @assortedsoftcheeses hey OP where did you get that clip at 0:33?? seems like it’s the kind of thing you’d find on some pro’s private account. kinda personal 👀 have i missed something?? who posted that????

momo-closet: been watching this on loop for a few minutes before realising my jaw was clenched hard enough to eat through my own enamel. Good work everyone let’s hit the showers

You and Monoma jolted out of your skins when Todoroki Touya slammed his plate on the table and yanked out a chair, legs scraping the tile, nodding your way as he straddled his chair. Tenko followed closely behind, a bottle in one hand and a Nintendo switch in the other.

“Are you playing a game?” Tenko gestured towards Monoma’s phone.

You laughed through your nose as Monoma stowed his phone away. “Not really. I see you didn’t leave home without one.”

Tenko scrunched up his face. “I had to bring something. No one outside of our DND group is going to want to talk to me without morbid curiosity, and you’ll be too busy to be at my side the whole time.”

“That’s why I’m his plus-one,” said Touya, holding up a crostini and waving with his free fingers.

“I was wondering how you were here, Touya,” you said, mouthing thanks to Shinsou as he set a plate of hors d'oeuvres in front of you and moved to sit in the seat to your left, “Tenko, I get, since he’s working with Aizawa-sensei in the underground hero scene, but—”

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” Aizawa pulled out the chair next to Shinsou and eased into it, bracing himself on its back to make it easier on his prosthetic leg.

“You did. Shouta, I apologise,” you said (with Shinsou’s eyebrows flashing upwards), and you turned back to Touya. “You’re Tenko’s date?”

“Don’t say it like that,” said Tenko, scowling as Touya nodded eagerly, “Since he wouldn’t be able to come otherwise, and I’ve been told I can’t just latch onto you for the whole night…” He trailed off, and your eyes darted across the table to catch the cause: Aizawa, shaking his head ever so slightly, as he lifted one of the event’s pre-made cocktails to his mouth.

Weird. But okay, you’ll pretend like you didn’t see it. “So, what’re you playing?”

Everything went smoothly for a while, with Shinsou and Aizawa sharing hors d’oeuvres while Tenko explained the mechanics of his game, with scathing commentary from Touya and probing lore questions from Monoma, but then, two, innocuous things happened in quick succession that changed the mood of the evening entirely.

First, Aizawa got a text. “It’s from Haimawari Koichi—the Crawler, I mean. He says he’s about to go on. He can see us from backstage.” Made you think about Izuku, that he wanted his autograph and was probably talking to him right now.

At the same time, Todoroki and Bakugou showed up, since their table was next to yours, and Bakugou thumped you in the back of your head. “Looking pretty bored without us, sweetheart.”

“Wow,” you said, rubbing your head, grinning, and you spoke without thinking: “That’s everyone except Izuku.”

In the moment, it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to say. At Shinsou’s sharp inhale, Aizawa’s cautious glance towards the opposite side of the table, and Todoroki’s bracing your shoulders, it occurred to you that perhaps you said something odd, but then oh my god they would only react like that if they knew that you were their soulmate in another timeline how the fuck did they find out where’s Izuku you need to leave now—

“I think we should dance. There’s dancing,” said Shinsou, scanning your face for distress and grabbing your wrist as you pushed yourself up from the table in a rush, Todoroki still at your back.

The room’s too hot. The room is too hot, and it’s spinning.

The orchestra swelled as the lights dimmed. It must be time for the keynote speech.

“I really,” you said, swallowing with effort, sweat running down your neck and between your shoulder blades, “I need to go.”

Shinsou’s hand around your wrist. Todoroki’s hand on the small of your back. Bakugou grabbing your forearm, Monoma staring up at you from your side, Tenko and Touya peering across the table at you, the most compliant you’ve ever seen them.

“Sit down,” Aizawa said, quietly, firmly, gesturing to your chair with his drink, and it’s like you’re hearing his voice underwater. You never wanted to have this conversation with them at all, but since they knew, why couldn’t it at least be one-on-one? Why did they all have to be here at once?

You need to be alone. You need to be with Izuku.

Feeling very, very hollow, you’re guided back down to your seat by both Todoroki and Monoma as the room finally darkens, with a spotlight on the podium onstage. The string section played a vaguely familiar song as Bakugou yanked his and Todoroki’s chairs from their table to sit behind you, and Shinsou uncapped your drink, holding the bottle out for you to take. The Crawler walks out onstage to thunderous applause, but you didn’t catch his opening words.

Shinsou gripped your hand, almost crushing your fingers. He kept his eyes on you, not the stage. But so was everyone else.

Eventually, you could speak, though you kept it down, since the Crawler was talking. “I’m so sorry.”

Most of the table started to protest, but Aizawa held up his hand to cut them off.

“My life is over,” you found yourself saying, blankly, far away, somewhere without strategic lighting or dress codes or crowds, “I—all of you aren’t going to be able to be the same around me. Our relationships are fucked, because you’re going to look at me and know, know that I’m the direct cause of your never getting a soulmate in this timeline, that I’ve ruined things for you. God, I love our friendships, and I really shouldn’t, because you deserve more. I’ve deprived you of a warmth that I get to chase until the ends of the earth. I,” you said, and you really hadn’t wanted to cry at this damn event, but whatever, man, “I can’t—fuck.” You buried your face in your hands. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry. But I can’t get around it, and I don’t really want to. I love you guys so much. But I’m in love with Izuku.”

At the soft, muted sound of porcelain being slid across the tablecloth, you peeked through your fingers to glance down at a plate with three dumplings left on it. Touya tapped the edge of the plate, staring you down. “Eat this fucking thing.”

Taken aback, you sat up straight and, since no one else was reacting to that, obeyed. You hated that the dumplings made your stomach feel less like one, big knot. How annoyingly simple of a solution.

“All right,” said Bakugou, leaning forward in his chair so that he could speak in your ear while you chewed, “Have you noticed us act any different lately?”

You rushed to swallow. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve known you are our soulmate in other timelines since the day you threw up on Bakugou’s carpet,” said Todoroki.

“I’m sorry. What?”

Bakugou scowled and shook his head. “You were there for that conversation. In the infirmary, remember?”

“No,” you said, taking your drink from Shinsou again when prompted, “I—you’ll recall I’d hit my head. I didn’t…” You sighed. “Are you kidding? And we’re all—” You gestured around the table, trying to catch everyone’s eye. “—okay with this?”

The table remained silent.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, stomach turning but reaching for the next dumpling, anyway. “I’ve fucking destroyed your chances of happiness—”

“Can you not rub your brain cells together for once?” Bakugou tugged your chair backwards a few inches so that you could look him in the eye. “You and Izuku are exactly the same. Shut the fuck up. No one has lost any shred of happiness because of you and your choices.”

“Don’t think you have that much influence on our lives,” Aizawa was saying, smiling, “You don’t have to hold back on our account. You’re allowed to be happy.”

You couldn’t believe it.

You couldn’t.

But the sick feeling in your gut was fading.

Sniffing, you rubbed the back of your neck, tears running down your cheeks. “Hold on. I need a minute.”

Before you could compose yourself, the Crawler wrapped up his speech, with the crowd clapping as the lights rose and music picked back up.

Touya spoke under the applause, leaning towards you. “Plus, I know that some version of me out there gets have enormously fucknasty sex with you, so I’m good.” Tenko elbowed him in the chest, not bothering to be subtle.

“Thanks, Touya,” you said, cracking a weak smile, “You’re not…actually, you are helping. Thank you.”

Monoma took your free hand, dumpling-greasy as it were. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, suddenly aware of all the sweat draining down your back, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just thought—I thought I’d be keeping this to myself forever. Well, myself and Izuku.”

“And Ito,” said Bakugou, scoffing, “She won’t shut up about it. Says she didn’t mean for you to have a harem, but she’d be interested in seeing it play out. Claims she’s never seen one assigned from her quirk before.”

“Ito’s been talking to you about this?”

“She’s probably listening in somehow,” said Bakugou, jerking his thumb up to the second storey balcony, “Begged me to be my date for the night. Probably wanted a show.”

You followed his gesture to make out Ito on the second floor while she leant over the railing, her elbow-length, lace gloves recognisable even from this distance, and she was using opera glasses to look your way. Uraraka and Toga-as-Spike were laughing next to her.

“God,” you said, slumping in your seat, adrenaline draining completely, and you ran your hand back through your hair. “And everyone’s really okay with this,” you asked flatly, making a point to hold eye contact with everyone, and no one said anything. “Okay,” you said, setting your empty bottle on the table and moving to stand, “I’ll just be happy, then. Since you want me to. No take-backs.” You waited for any dissenting voices, but, again, they seemed content. “Cool. I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Agreed,” said Aizawa, and he batted at Shinsou’s arm. “Go with her. Make sure she doesn’t drown herself in the toilet.”

Taking a deep breath, you and Shinsou wove through crowds and away from the music, travelling down century-old, narrow corridors until you located one of the minute restrooms open to the event. Spotting a member of the kitchen crew exit it, you instead yanked Shinsou around a roped-off corner to shove him against the exposed brick.

“Hitoshi, you’ve got to tell me the truth,” you said, gripping his lapels, eyes bulging, “Are any of you actually okay with this?”

Shaken, Shinsou glanced down at your hands and patted one with his own. “You’re overthinking it. We’re fine. Spend less time thinking about us, and allow yourself to be selfish. You—” Shinsou shifted his jaw, and, keeping his eyes on the water-stained ceiling, he rolled his shoulders back. “I’m not supposed to tell you this. I am not supposed to tell you this.”

You released him to give him space to consider his phrasing, shoe scraping the wood when you took a step back.

“It’s good that you’re Midoriya’s soulmate in this timeline, instead of any of ours,” said Shinsou, covering his mouth with his hand, brow scrunched, “Because—I don’t wanna get into who loves you more, or anything, because who can measure—but Midoriya definitely loves you better than any of us. Because he’s the only one who loves you well enough to let you leave him. To let you choose who you want.” Shinsou swore under his breath and, running a hand back through his hair, he slid down the wall into a crouch, bunching up his suit jacket.

Leave him? He’s never…hm. You knelt next to him. “What do you mean?”

Shinsou fiddled with the button on his jacket before unbuttoning it. “Midoriya’s been tearing himself up. First, over that he was ruining your life, and he thought he had verification of that because of the constant soulmate pain he felt, but then—he said that you two figured out something about soulmates and timelines, so that brought on another layer of guilt: that you could find your happiness with someone else.”

Fuck. Fuck. Might explain why he hasn’t insisted on being alone with you. Why all the group hangouts. Lately, it must’ve been too painful—must be why he begged you to look only at him. “Why would he not say anything until recently—what’s wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong with him? What about what’s wrong with you?” Shinsou shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, laughing through a scoff. “Listen,” he said, and he, shifting to sit on his knees, took your hand to place it over his heart. “There’s nothing binding us together. You’re my best friend, yes, but that’s all. Feel that? Completely normal heartbeat.” Honestly, you couldn’t feel anything through the layers of fabric, but you let him continue. “I’m gonna be fine. We all will be. It should be a comfort that our lives don’t revolve around you. Not like we make up a solar system with you at the centre. You’ve also lost it if you think that romantic love is the only way we can lead a fulfilling—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, pulling your hand back, “I don’t want to rehash all the bitter stuff we’d say when we were all soulmate-less and hanging out with our graduating class.”

“Then stop rehashing all these feelings of guilt, too,” said Shinsou, “Allow yourself to live in reality, not in some daydream of what could’ve been.”

Every heavy feeling stirring in your gut for almost a year finally, finally evaporated, dissolving into air and floating far, far away like gossamer in the night breeze.

It left you feeling rather light. Almost foamy.

Nodding, you said through a dry croak, “I need to find Izuku.”

Shinsou clapped your knee in encouragement, and, pushing himself to stand, he helped you do the same. “I think we’re missing his speech right now.”

You rushed back through the labyrinthine corridors, almost knocking into some press and definitely knocking into a retired hero, sorry, but when you managed to cut through the throng, you weren’t even rewarded with the sight of Izuku at your table—Touya, Tenko, and Aizawa remained, the two former invested in the switch, the latter in the book he’d brought (fucking nerd). They hadn’t seen Izuku.

“Bakugou dragged him off towards the second storey,” Todoroki chimed in from his table, having taken a moment to swallow his crudité.

You thanked him and hurried off, first having to find a staircase and then a way to the outside balcony, but you caught a flash of Bakugou’s moonlit hair before you slipped around the corner to the alcove overhanging the backyard, and, holding your breath, you darted back inside the shadow to press yourself flat against the wall, hoping to God that you hadn’t interrupted anything terrible.

“You don’t even like beer, so stop bitching about not getting to have any,” said Bakugou, tilting his own bottle back to take a gulp.

“Sorry, Kacchan. It’s—I’m nervous. I don’t want to mess this up. It’s all so new to me.”

“What is?”

“Being in love.”

The words are spoken so softly you could’ve missed them under the distant, hollow notes of bamboo windchimes in the gardens. You heard Bakugou’s beer glass clink against the balcony railing, paired with a sigh, instead of answering.

“Thanks for not laughing,” said Izuku, sounding like he’d shifted to face Bakugou; his voice didn’t reverberate back as clearly anymore. “I just like being around her. We don’t have to say anything at all—like I can be switched to off. Like I can just be me, instead of someone everybody needs. It’s good. Calming. Feels like she’s always been a part of me, even when I didn’t know it. I don’t know how else to explain it. When I’m with her, I just feel like—like me, instead of any conceits of me that people have in their heads. And sometimes, she doesn’t even like me.” Izuku let out a laugh. “It feels good to have someone not see me as perfect and still love me for it. Sensual, even.”

“Control your dick, Izuku.”

Izuku laughed, and it echoed through the night air. “I don’t think she knows how much I think about it—building a life together. Genuinely settling in. Settling down. We’re already in deep, but I want more. I want to cook her breakfast. I want her house slippers next to mine by the door. I want to fumble for her soap in the shower. I want the empty spaces in our lives to be filled with her laughter. God,” said Izuku, accompanied by a clump, as if he’d banged his head against something, “I want to stop fisting myself every night thinking of her perfect tits, the curve of her hips—”

“Can it. I don’t need to hear—.”

“—it’s the kind of stuff I used to dream about.”

You couldn’t take it. You and Izuku were finally on the same page, and all of this running and chasing and finding was useless; you needed to be near him right now.

Retracing your steps, you approached the alcove again, this time making your footsteps obvious, and so while they were both expecting someone as you drew nearer, Izuku’s face lit up like a firework when he saw it was you—and then, for some reason, he turned bright fucking red.

“Hey, Izuku. Bakugou,” you said, nodding towards him before focusing on Izuku, lifting a hand to his heated cheek, “Are you all right? The heat was getting to me, too, earlier.”

Izuku shook his head frantically, and after he shut his eyes to take a heady breath, he steeled himself, looking at you with something next door to adoration as he placed a hand on your waist, he said, “I’m fine. I can’t stop thinking about what’s under that fucking dress.”

“O-kay,” said Bakugou, clapping Izuku on the shoulder, “I’ll be downstairs. Not that you’ll need me. Try not to break anything.”

Izuku didn’t even wait for Bakugou to leave the balcony before kissing you (you did catch Bakugou’s thumbs-up that you weren’t supposed to see), mouth opening the second he grazed yours, and you had to grab his face, squeezing at his cheeks while his cheek scuffed your palm, to tear him away.

“Hey,” you said, tapping his cheek in a ripple, trying to ignore how he grabbed at your waist almost desperately, staring at your lips, “Not yet. I wanted to tell you that I’m over it, over everything that’s complicating our situation, and that I love you.”

Izuku froze, cogs almost visibly turning, and he pressed his forehead to yours. “They talked to you, didn’t they? I asked them not to.”

“I was being weird about it, and they said some very comforting things—”

“Are you sure you want me? I’m not—not sure I’m what you want—I haven’t known you forever, like Shinsou, and I could never be as gentle as Aizawa—”

“Izuku,” you said, squeezing his face as you pushed him backwards to look him in the eye, “What I want is you, Izuku. No one else.”

He searched your face for any shred of deceit, and he pushed through the hand still on his face to hold him at a distance to kiss you again, tongue swiping at your lower lip, the grunt at the back of his throat so soft that he was almost drowned out by the bamboo windchimes again. While you sucked his tongue into your mouth, Izuku let his hands drift upwards, cupping one of your boobs, and Izuku broke the kiss with a hum while he stared down at his hand, circling your nipple through the fabric.

“Can you feel much through your dress?”

“Not especially,” you said, trying to catch your breath.

Izuku pouted, pursing his lips in thought, but a smile soon replaced it. “That’s fine,” he said, reaching for the slit in your billowing skirt, “Let me touch you? I wanna feel where I’m gonna come later.”

He didn’t need to know your underwear dampened at his words. “Izuku, we are in public.”

He paused just short of touching your bare leg. “Should we stop? We can stop.”

Huffing, you bit the inside of your cheek and looked down from the alcove, where a group had started into the gardens, laughing through their drunkenness. “We can keep going, but I’d like to be able to walk out of here without anyone knowing what we’ve done.”

“Got it,” he said, and he kissed you, hard, close-mouthed, pressing himself against you as much as he could. “Right,” he said, cradling your face when he broke away and guiding you backwards into the shadow against the alcove’s wall, “Then all we have to worry about is how much noise you make, hm? Can we trust that clever mouth to be quiet?”

Throat running dry, you swallowed thickly as Izuku’s fingers slipped through the slit of your dress, brushing over your inner thigh. “So long as you keep kissing me, I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

Izuku grinned. “I like the way you think.” He kissed you again, hot as your back hit the wall. “But you’ll recall I want to watch.”

Without removing it from around his neck, Izuku rolled the end of his tie, pried your mouth open, and shoved it inside, its silk drying out your tongue as Izuku hiked your leg over his hip. He shivered, beaming, when one of his fingers grazed your clit through the lace, and he circled it slowly but firmly. Your breath hitched, and as the adrenaline spread to tingle in your fingertips, your cunt tensed up, clenching around nothing.

“Oh?” Izuku trailed his lips across your cheek to just before your ear, breath hot against it. He traced his finger down the lace flower along the gusset, and you felt his smile against your skin when he reached the wet patch pressing coolly over your heated entrance. “Interesting.”

“Hey,” you said, inhaling sharply when he dipped underneath the fabric, trailing his fingers up and down your labia, “Izuku—”

“You’re okay,” he said, pressing the calloused pad of his thumb against your bare clit, “We’re fine. In fact, we’re great, because, as you reminded me, we’re in public. I’d be sucking at you through the lace if we weren’t.” At your shudder, he ran the backs of his fingers down to test the dampening fabric. “Ohhh, that’s it. That’s nice. It’s just what I wanted to see.” Izuku lifted the gusset from you, cool air swishing up your heat, and he released it, fabric snapping back onto your cunt. “Eager to please me, aren’t you? Sick of trying to push me away?”

Izuku pulled back from your ear as his index finger circled your entrance, right around the rim as it began to curve inside. “Think you can take my fingers yet?”

You nodded and bit farther down on his tie to close some of the distance between you.

“Thank you. I need to stretch you out for later, anyway,” said Izuku, and he kissed your cheek before burying his face in your neck, rolling his hips against yours as he pressed his first finger into you. Its width caught you off guard, and you yelped into your gag.

“Hey, easy. Easy,” said Izuku, rubbing your clit as he drew his finger inside and out, so slowly, so fucking slowly, “We’re in public.”

It’s hard to articulate you rat bastard while gagged, but you got the message across.

Blood surged through your veins; you struggled to keep your eyelids from fluttering. Izuku flooded your sense: he’s licking at your neck and smelling so, so good, covering you with his warmth and ever-tightening the coil in your gut through his careful touches, and hey, when did he add a second finger? You’ll kill him, and he’s muttering the most frustrating things against your skin, like he didn’t care that you still had to walk out of here.

“C’mon, then,” said Izuku, surfacing from your neck, breathing heavily, like he’s just woken up, “Claim me. Mark me.” He removed a hand from under your skirt (the other, still pressing two fingers inside you, stretched to rub at your clit) to tug his tie out of your mouth, and he let it drop, saliva-heavy against his shirt. “Let everyone know that I’m your soulmate,” he said, baring his throat, “That you alone own me.”

“Izuku,” you said, panting, “Don’t you still have to give your speech?”

Izuku sighed, his fingers stilling inside you. “Yeah, I do. You’re right. You’re goddamned right,” he said, grimacing, and he withdrew his hand from underneath your skirt.

“Whoa, what?” you asked as he took a step back, “I—I, um.”

“Is there a problem?” he asked, a touch of smugness to his voice. “You have to say it, if you want something.”

Wetting your lower lip, you glanced over your shoulder and back at him. “I didn’t come.”

“That’s true,” said Izuku, adjusting his lapels, “but we’re in public, and I have a speech to give. How indecent.” He winked at you, and you huffed. “What a shame you’ll have to wait.”

You stepped towards him with murderous intent and froze as arousal gushed through the lace and down your leg. “Oh, God. I don’t think I can go out there. I’m too—”

“On it,” said Izuku, unravelling his tie and whipping it from around his neck, and he fucking parted your legs to wipe you down with it, pressing more into your cunt than someone cleaning up really should have.

“How do you manage to think through that horny fog in your brain?” you asked, as Izuku stood upright, examining the freshly wet spot on his tie.

“You get used to it.” Izuku watched your moonlit arousal glisten for a moment, and then he stuck the fabric into his mouth, sucking audibly.

“Holy fuck,” you said, shaking your head, “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Izuku was saying as he guided you by the small of your back off the balcony, stowing his tie in his inner suit pocket, and he took your hand to thread his fingers through yours when you reached the staircase. “But we should go home, where I know how sturdy everything is. There’s a reason why Bakugou told us not to break anything.”

Izuku led you through the dance floor back to your table, and you had to be normal. You had to sit down with your rotating coterie of friends coming to socialise, and you had to be normal. You had to watch Izuku unbutton his suit jacket as he sat next to you, flipping the jacket away from his hip as he stuck his hand in his pocket, and you had to be normal. His ankle bone poked through his thin sock as his trousers rode up, like a slut, and you had to be normal. Izuku held his bottle of sparkling water at his crotch, peeling at the condensation-beaded label, thumb rubbing up and down the bottle neck absently, and you had to be normal.

Monoma hissed and glared over his shoulder at the orchestra as they transitioned into a new song. “Aren’t we over ‘Air on the G String’ as a society yet?”

Touya cleared his throat, holding up his champagne flute to the light. “I’m not over anything in a g-string yet.”

Monoma propped his chin on his fist. “Touya, you are a paragon of modern society. Tell me about your plans to bolster the economy.”

Izuku caught your eye, his own glinting as they dropped to your lips, and you had to be fucking normal.

Later in the night, long after the orchestra had packed up and after most press had departed, the silent auction began. Since Izuku had no interest in it and you were vibrating out of this plane of existence, Izuku moved to one of the standing tables at the back of the ballroom. More openly drunk behaviour was exhibited here, and near your table, a caution sign had been erected where a recent spill had been mopped up.

You shivered as he sneaked up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he set a plate of the latest round of finger foods in front of you on the tiny table, and he leant his head against yours, rubbing his cheek on yours like a cat before kissing it. You craned your neck away from him, trying to seem absorbed in the flavours of meringues he’d brought over, but when he blew cold air into your ear, you jolted, eliciting a quiet chuckle.

“You are insufferable, Izuku,” you said, sounding controlled despite every part of you buzzing and screaming like a sparkler.

“Don’t I deserve to be? I’ve been waiting for so long,” he said, and he pressed a kiss in front of your ear, below it, and then on your neck. “I’m gonna make it really good for you.”

Izuku grinned into your throat when you stiffened, but you shook it off, taking a small step to the side and popping a meringue into your mouth just to have something besides Izuku to stimulate your senses. “Don’t just say things like that; I can’t take it.”

“You will.”

You would’ve choked if Izuku hadn’t timed his comment perfectly.

“I think,” said Izuku, tilting his head with a smile creeping in, “that you’re embarrassed, that you’re ashamed of taking so long to come around to your feelings, when I’ve been waiting with open arms and an open mouth all this time. So, in that gorgeous brain of yours, you’ve decided that you’ll acquiesce, that you’ll take every single thing I give you, because you feel like you deserve to be used as I please. Now, I’m not saying you’re right—” Izuku pushed some of your hair behind your ear, not that it needed it, and trailed his fingers down the side of your throat. “—because how rude, how mean of me would it be to think so? But. I shan’t deny that I’ll enjoy watching the tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to take me inside.”

You grabbed his shirt, right where his tie should be, and as you jerked him towards you, you caught a glimmer of excitement (and you were reminded that any manhandling on your part was because he was letting you push him around). “If your cock isn’t in me within the next five minutes, I am going to shred you into confetti.”

“You’re doing this to yourself, you know,” said Izuku, grinning, holding his tongue between his teeth as he held his hands up in defence, “You can safeword out of it any time.”

This is part of it? Of fucking course it’d be part of it. “Fuck you, Izuku,” you said, also grinning, livid, “Lotus. Now, call our fucking car.”

Izuku was quite compliant after that, ever so polite to your friends as you ducked out and to the driver, even apologetic to you in the car as you shook him by the shoulders when he admitted he’d given his speech while you’d been talking with Shinsou. Courteous and kind even when you held his hand in a death grip on the ride home and pulled up a list of medieval torture methods for tomorrow.

“Okay, well,” you said, toeing off your shoes once you were inside the apartment, Izuku locking the door behind you, “I guess I’ll go wash up, or—”

“No, you’re fine,” said Izuku, and you found yourself being spun around by your thighs, Izuku kneeling on the hallway rug and staring up at you with big, ol’ wet eyes (that bitch). “You’re perfect.” He pressed his hand flat on your lower abdomen to back you against the wall, and he tapped the inside of your ankle to get you to shift your weight to your other foot; he tossed your leg over his shoulder and parted the slit in your dress. Izuku’s mouth found your clit and, through the lace, sucked hard.

“Jesus, fuck,” you said, hand flying to his hair, “You—you don’t even have to, fuck, Izuku—I’m wet; you don’t have to warm me up. I’m ready for you.”

Gathering saliva on his tongue, he licked up the length of your cunt, dampening the final scraps of the fabric not already soaked. He licked where your labia met your inner thigh, down the trail of arousal dripping down your leg. “Gracious,” he said once he’d surfaced, “Good Lord, you’re drenched.”

“Izuku,” you said with a whine, “Get up. Fucking—fucking stop. I—I’m going—I need to—”

“I know, baby,” said Izuku, so gentle as he stood and cradled your face in his hands, and he kissed you softly. “I know what you need. Seems like you’re close to being fucked-out brainless without even coming. You’re adorable. You can relax now, sweet girl. I’m going to take care of you.” He indulged you when you kissed him again, and he guided your jaw open a little wider so that he could slip his tongue inside. “Oh, that’s good. You’re so good for me,” said Izuku, flicking away the gauzy thread of saliva between you, “While don’t you get on the bed, hm?”

You nodded, almost drowsily, because relief swept over you to such a full extent that you’re a bit boneless, and you trudged into his bedroom and crawled onto the bed, flopping over to sink into his pillows.

Wait, was Dango in here? Your cat shouldn’t witness you having sex. She might claw at someone’s nipple. You dangled upside-down off of the side of the bed, peering underneath it for Dango, unable to discern if that far shadow were her.

When Izuku entered the room, suit jacket draped over his arm, you explained the situation. You paused the sexual encounter to locate the cat, who was inside Izuku’s closet in his sock drawer, and once you’d shut her out of the room and washed your hands, you reconvened on the mattress.

“Did that kill the mood?” you asked, hair splayed around you on the pillow as you arched your back to unzip your dress, “I think that may have killed the mood.”

“It didn’t; trust me.” Transfixed by your boobs, Izuku fumbled to unbutton his trousers, and when he stepped out of them, you halted in your shimmying off of your dress: shirt stays pinned his shirt down, their straps digging into the muscle of his upper thighs, and sock garters did the same around his calves. “It does it for me, actually, knowing that you’re so conscientious about this sort of thing.”

“Come closer,” you said, holding out your grabby hands, and he, bewildered, came to the edge of the bed, legs touching the blankets. You traced down a strap of his shirt stays, and you pulled one out to snap it back, the elastic cracking against his pale thigh. You covered your mouth with your hand, throat constricting slightly as heat curled in your lower stomach.

Izuku lifted his knee to press into the mattress, and you scooted backwards to accommodate his body as he climbed on. “Everything all right?”

“My mind is about to melt out of my ears,” you said, sitting back against the headboard. “Please, continue undressing.”

Cute how you could tell he was making mental notes in how he watched your reactions to him, how he unfastened his sock garters and stays and tossed his shirt across the room, leaving him in his briefs that honestly seemed a few sizes too small because Jesus fucking Christ, that’s a bulge.

But Izuku wouldn’t let you look at it, tapping your chin upwards, and pulling your dress down to your hips, and when he’d gotten it off, he left to hang it up. You buried your face in your hands, kicking your feet in the air, because what the fuck; what did you do to deserve someone so strangely endearing.

He kissed you upon his return, tilting your chin to follow him as he guided you to lie back. That hand then slid down your neck, applying a slight, massaging pressure, and his lips followed, reluctantly parting your tongue from his. Izuku nipped at the flesh where your neck met your shoulder, hand trailing down your arm, touching so lightly that the hair on the back of your arms stood up, and as he rolled his hips against yours, he pressed another kiss to your shoulder, another onto your upper arm, towards your elbow, each open-mouthed kiss wetter than the last. He mouthed at the inside of your forearm, holding your hand up towards the ceiling, and he licked a wide stripe up your palm before deep-throating your middle and ring fingers, groaning around them.

The thought occurred to you that this man is a fucking freak when you realised he’s kept his other hand behind his back this whole time, but he bit down around your ring finger, holding your hand still when you tried to jerk it away. Izuku pulled your fingers from his mouth, admiring the teeth marks at the base of your finger. “The rings finished getting resized today,” he said, showing you the velvet box he’d been concealing, and he popped it open, your white-gold wedding rings sitting inside. He kissed the pads of your wet fingers. “Let me put it on?”

“Fine, fine,” you said, wiggling your fingers in his grasp. Izuku beamed as he slid your ring onto your hand to sit directly over the bite mark, and honestly, some lightheadedness started to creep in. Before it got to you, you took Izuku’s ring to put it on his finger, though you didn’t bother lube it up first (?), as he had.

“Hey,” said Izuku, both hands cupping your cheeks, tapping his ring finger against you, “I love you, by the way. In case you didn’t know.” When his lips pressed against yours, scorching, your hands gripped his wrists to hold him closer, your hips rocking minutely of their own accord. He smiled into the kiss and hitched his knee under your thigh, drawing both upward so that he could grind more directly onto you, and dear God—

“Actually,” you said, gasping as you slid your hands up his arms to squeeze appreciatively at his biceps (he didn’t stop pressing kisses along your jawline), “I think I need to hear you say that again.”

“Of course,” said Izuku, breath fanning over your ear, “I love you. So much, my dear, dear wife. My soulma—”

“Oh, shit, are we married?” You pried him away from you for a second to see if he were joking.

Hair dishevelled with curls blown out, he shot you an incredulous look. “Don’t you check your email? Yes. Yes, we’ve—the notification came in late last night—”

“I don’t check my email; that’s where the emails are,” you said, grumbling and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just wondering. You may proceed to fuck my brains out now.”

Izuku braced his weight on his forearms, each on either side of your head, dipping into the pillows. “You know, usually I’d say that this kind of behaviour is strange and off-putting, but since it’s you, I’m fucking hard as a rock. Congratulations. You do strange and off-putting things to me,” said Izuku, stretching down to kiss your cheek.

A compliment? An insult? Who knows! “Uh, I meant that you may proceed to fuck my brains out now, sir?”

Izuku slapped his hand over his eyes, biting his lip, and he inhaled sharply (his cock twitched against you). He had to take another deep breath before he could speak. “Okay,” he said, dragging his hand down his face, “Yeah, I’m in love with you, you maniac. We should have sex before we both just—explode from talking to each other. That sound okay? Cool. Thank you.” He shifted his weight to drag his finger under the strap of your bra, stopping just before he reached the cup. “Bra on or off? You look wonderful in it, of course; I didn’t think your boobs could get any prettier. But if the wire’s cutting into…”

Taking too long. You twisted to unhook the bra yourself, and you threw it somewhere. Since you knew he’d take his time about the underwear, you yanked them off, too, laughing through your nose at their weight from how wet they were. “They’re lovely, Izuku. Notice how I’m not letting you rip them, because I want to wear them again.”

“Appreciated,” said Izuku, staring down at your boobs, fingers grazing the delicate skin. “Do you think you could come just from my sucking your tits?”

“Stop stalling,” you said, fighting the urge to whack him with a pillow, “You can have me any way you want, as long as you want, for the rest of our lives. Get on with it.”

“Right,” said Izuku, snapping the waistband of his briefs to break his gaze away from your chest, and he leant down to kiss you again, licking over your bottom lip, tilting your head to the right, and waiting for you to open your mouth for him. When you did, the hand resting on your thigh dragged upwards to your labia, still dripping and swollen from the lace rubbing against it all night, thumbing between them to part you, thumb sliding up to your clit and two fingers slipping inside you, prompting a full-bodied shudder at the first graze to your g-spot.

Izuku breathed a fuck against your lips, and as he pulled away, you caught the fading scent of his cologne, sweet apple and cedar mixed with the beading sweat. “You have such a tiny cunt. I—hm,” he said, watching the way his fingers pumped in and out of you, and he pulled his other hand away from toying with your clit to tap his fingers, one by one, in your pubic hair. “Baby, I need you to answer me honestly. How many orgasms do you think you can handle tonight?”

Is this a test? “As…many as you’ll let me have?”

“No, I need a real number. I may legitimately be too big for you, and the more relaxed I can get you, the farther I can sink inside. To your benefit, you’re already very wet, but you’re still pretty tense in here,” he said, fingers curling against your g-spot, making you spasm a bit; he held you down at your hip.

Since you’ve been fucking edged all night, your greedy little mind didn’t supply a number, but you also knew that once you got that first orgasm, you’d probably chicken out quickly. “Probab—probably two.” You grasped his forearm, halting his fingers. “I want at least one of them around your cock.”

Izuku nodded, and he kissed the back of your hand before placing it on his chest (he flinched when your nail grazed his nipple). “Two. All right, then,” he said, pushing his fingers in you while grinding on your clit with the heel of his palm, but he’d hardly bent to wrap his lips around your nipple before you were gushing around his fingers, clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle any noise.

Izuku pulled away from your tit, brow furrowed as he extracted his fingers, strings of arousal connecting them. “Wha—that was—that was too easy.” Izuku crawled over you, searching for anything the matter in your expression. “I know I’m okay, but I’m not that good—”

“I don’t know either,” you said through a breathy sigh, eyelids heavy, “Guess I needed your permission. Guess I need you to fill me that badly.”

A line of white-green lightning sparked from his arousal-coated fingertips and scorched all the way up his arms, fizzling out in a hiss at his bicep. Adam’s apple bobbing, Izuku pushed himself off the bed. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” he said, stepping towards the bathroom, and he turned back, jabbing a finger in your direction. “Stay—stay horny, in the meantime.” He closed the bathroom door behind him.

A full minute passed.

He poked his head out of the bathroom. “Yes condom? No condom?”

You’re on another type of birth control, too, but let’s make him more flustered. “Why not forgo the condom? After all, it’s our wedding night.”

Eyes bulging, Izuku hurked and shut the door again.

When he came out, he had fresh determination in his eyes and water along his hairline. “Hey! Hello,” he said, returning to the bed, “Sorry about that. Thought I was gonna come in my underwear. Had to splash water on my face to calm down.”

“It’s fine. It’s cute. You know, usually I’d say that this kind of behaviour is strange and off-putting, but since it’s you, I’m drenched. Congratulations. You do—”

“Stop that,” said Izuku, kissing your forehead. His thumb hitched under the elastic of his briefs, and he sighed. “In all seriousness, we may have to restrict tonight to just the tip.”

“Yeah? And what if we restrict our breathing to once every five minutes?”

“You’re ridiculous,” muttered Izuku, and he yanked down his underwear, and you saw fucking red while he readied himself, grabbing lube from his nightstand and moving to kneel between your legs, because why hadn’t you really looked at his cock when he was naked and flirtatious at the waterfall? No way would it have not been burned into your brain, been the only thing you fantasised about for months, because who is this man, and who gave him permission to have that kind of cock, annoyingly, infuriatingly pretty (how loathsome), twin veins twisting around the thick shaft that were even vaguely green like his quirk, crooking upward, sporadically dotted with freckles (which, in conjunction with the freckles on his ass, brings into question how often this man must sunbathe naked), and fucking aching for you, pink head smeared with precum, but, most importantly, way too fucking big why is it coming up that high on your stomach when he rests it atop your mons pubis he is going to break you in half.

“Cool,” you said, normally, like a normal person, “I don’t need to see that.” You nodded towards how much of your lower abdomen his cock was lying across, and you grabbed his hips (thumbs pressing against his hipbones, that slut) to manhandle him away from you, and Izuku looked very pleased to let you.

“You’re gonna be fine.” Izuku guided his cock down your slit and nudged the head between your labia near your entrance. “Take a deep breath, okay?” he asked, leaning his forehead against yours and taking your hand in his. His cockhead spread you, stretching you in a sort of stinging pleasure, and he stifled a groan that vibrated through his chest.

Heat coiling inside you, you rolled your hips, but Izuku was quick to stop you, splaying a hand across your stomach. He cleared his throat. “Just wait. I’ll give it to you in a minute. You’ll be all right.”

But you couldn’t take it; you went about it more subtly this time, rocking your hips ever so slightly, working them back and forth (and if he actually wanted to stop you, he had the means), and even though it’s just his tip, your insides were boiling, clenching and fluttering around him; you’re really, truly, quite too small for him, but another gush of arousal allows another inch to slide in, and Izuku’s eyes snapped open.

“Doesn’t hurt,” you said, before he could ask, and you brought his lips to yours while you curled your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting your hips to encourage him to push just a little more, but as Izuku found a shallow rhythm, working more of his cock inside you bit by bit, you found your eyes watering—not hurting, no, but overwhelmed, realising that yes, this was Izuku; this was the rest of your life, and how lovely it will be to spend the rest of your life feeling so full. You were his, and he was yours. This is how it’s always been. From everyone’s soulmate, to simply Izuku’s soulmate. And from there, the beginning of a life unfolded.

He's thrusting hastily, shallowly, and he’s closed his eyes again, grinning with every thrust, because he can hear how sticky and wet it was as you opened up underneath him. He rolled his hips, groaning and hunching in on himself, and he squeezed one of your boobs, rolling your nipple under his thumb, bringing the buzz in your head to a clamour.

But both of you froze when his hips met your ass: he’s fully seated inside, pressing against a spot that’s making you dizzy.

“Fucking hell,” Izuku said under his breath, “You have all of me.” Running his tongue over his lower lip, he grinded into you, eliciting a choked gasp as you clutched as his back, and his hands were on you again, and everywhere he touched was singing.

Izuku’s rambling against your skin, but you’re so close that you can barely make out what he’s saying. “I’m so glad we found each other. I’m so glad it’s you. I’ve—I’ve loved you for so long, y’know? But I was shy back then, and so I studied and improved myself and became confident for you, to become to kind of man you could always feel safe around. The kind you could always come home to. When Uraraka found Toga, I dared to hope. Dreamed about it, about you, until the dreams shifted into waking up in the northern lands, frigid, waist-deep in snow, and dealing with dragons. And we found each other again. Got to be around you in my dreams when it felt like every waking force deliberately kept me from you. And then you hated being bound by fate, when I cried that first night with relief, and I bore the pain of rejection because it meant you were thinking of me in any way at all.” He pressed a wet kiss to your jaw. “I’m so glad we’re here. I’m so glad I love you. I’m so glad I’m supposed to love you. I want to spend the rest of my life learning about you, angel. So, please,” he said, rolling your clit between this thumb and index finger, “like I asked earlier tonight: mark me. Leave some sort of evidence on my that I’m yours. The rings, yes, always the rings, but I’ll always look at your ring and think about that bite mark, so please, mark me in some way, and I’ll wear it for the rest of my life like a fucking collar. Please—”

You’ve been holding off your orgasm to listen, but, unable to bear it, you let it wash through you, clenching your teeth, twitching and gushing around him with your heartbeat pulsing in your ears and, for some reason, the roof of your mouth. You wrapped your legs around him, drawing him in deeper in a motion that made him gasp.

“Oh, very funny,” Izuku sputtered, “You’re hilarious—” He managed to get in one more, jittery roll of his hips before he was coming, releasing the breathiest, most pathetic whines you’ve ever heard, and it only made you want him more.

But as both of you were coming down, the bedroom exploded in a cloud of shining, pink specks.

Neither you nor Izuku spoke, both trying to catch your breaths. Izuku grunted as he pushed himself upright, straining his muscles to support his weight, watching the glitter fall to the blankets and fade upon impact.

“The hell is this? The hell,” you winced, hissing as he pulled out of you, cum dribbling out (for a second, a filmy string of cum linked the two of you, but it broke when he sat back), “is it?” You tried to snatch a pink speck, as one snatches dust from the air, but you couldn’t grab hold. “Is this some One for All aspect I don’t know about?”

“No, I—” Izuku placed a hand on his chest, as if he could control how steadily it rose and fell in the process of regulating his breathing, “—it’s pink. Must be Ito’s quirk. Oh, gosh,” he said, frowning, moving to kneel (and inadvertently displaying his softening cock, glossy with cum), “I hope it all fades; I wouldn’t want Dango to get sick if she eats any. Pivoting—eating reminded me—dream Todoroki, mage Todoroki, said he thinks he can finally get the frappe consistency when we try tonight. He’s been practising with coconut milk and has achieve something close to a slush.”

Teeming with affection, you reached for Izuku, pushing a curl behind his ear. “It really is one thrill after another with you, isn’t it?”

Izuku snorted, covering his mouth in surprise that he could even make that noise, and he smiled with his eyes back at you, eyelashes dark against his cheeks. “We should clean up,” he said, dropping his hand, “Shower together?” He patted your thigh as he slid off the bed.

“Oof, ouch, my bones. My bone marrow,” you said flatly, holding the back of your hand to your forehead (eyes on his broad shoulders as he stretched, on the dip between his shoulder blades, the indent of his spine above the swell of his pretty, freckled ass—no, stop), “I can’t move.”

“I’ll get a washcloth,” said Izuku, and he started towards the bathroom. As he turned, you caught the beginning of a small, boyish smile meant just for himself—looking very much like sunlight.

Apt. You planned on basking in his warmth forever.

(Just being next to Izuku lit up your world in a colour you’ve never known. His love brought changes, changed you, in such tiny, indiscernible ways that you couldn’t notice until the light shined back on them.)

You were trying to make some sort of photosynthesis joke about it, but the pieces weren’t coming together. You shook yourself out of your thoughts to register Izuku, standing in the bathroom door, staring back at you, head tilted, eyes somewhat glazed over.

You cleared your throat, sitting up in bed. “Izuku? Is something wrong?”

Startled, Izuku snapped out of it. “Oh! No, I’m fine. Sorry about that,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “I was just so taken with you. You’re lovely. So lovely.”

He shot you a small wave, and as he disappeared into the bathroom, it occurred to you that he may just look at you in the same way you look at him.

You heard his burst of laughter echo against the tile. “In regard to your aching bone marrow,” called Izuku, smile so evident in his voice, “does that mean you’re not up for a second round?”

Rolling your eyes, you collapsed back in the bed, snuggling into Izuku’s pillow, excited for when he comes back outside so that you can spend more time together. “Yeah,” you said, heart so full it may burst, “In your dreams, jackass.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare @eunchaeluvr

[heehoothefool]

Mmmm I'm bored and it's almost 6 am and I cannot sleep.

I'm gonna assign the Empires SMP s2 cast DnD classes for the fun of it.

Joel: He's a Sorcerer for sure, but idk if wild magic or blue draconic bloodline is more fitting. On one hand, he dipped into a magic fountain to become a God which is very wild magic leaning. On the other hand, blue dragon ancestry would give an obvious affinity to lightning, and an excuse for his obsession with gold and the common teal/blue themes of his Stratos builds. You also can get wings. Idk, I like both a lot here.

Fwhip: Have you seen those funky Redstone signs? This little guy is an artificer all the way. After he made that sick mace? I'm gonna say he'd run the battle smith archetype. Idk funny little goblin tinkerer is just fun to me.

Jimmy: Fighter, gunslinger archetype. He's a cowboy, look at him. What else could he possibly be? I know he doesn't have a gun (yet) but I think he deserves it with all the gunpowder. He's also Just Some Guy and sadly fighter is the most Just Some Guy class there is.

Pixlriffs: The archivist artificer subclass was literally made for this man. Tinkering around with insane redstone, litematica, the obsession with the past and knowing things he shouldn't necessarily know, like it's all there. It's perfect for him. I love him.

Sausage: Oath of Devotion paladin, for sure. He's the protector of Sanctuary, it's his duty to protect his friends and his people, to stay true to them no matter what. He will protect his people and those he cares about. Also you literally get access to the spell Sanctuary as part of the extended spell list. Come on.

Scott: Wild magic Sorcerer. If a wizard gives you a glass eye that is SO going to have random magical consequences, and with how often Owen goes between human and Llama I wouldn't be shocked if it was related. They're also charisma casters and look at him. Look at him.

Joey: Gunslinger fighter again but this time with the pirate background specifically. He literally has a gun. What else could he be?

Oli: The man is literally a college of glamor bard. Like this isn't even a question. Come on now.

False: Oh an artificer all the way, look at the steampunk aesthetic going on here. I wanna give her artillerist because she definitely seems like the type to develop a flamethrower, but I think alchemist fits her lore (the whole amnesia potions thing) a bit better. Another one I'm a little torn on.

Gem: What else could she be but a light cleric? She is the princess of the sun and she started a church for the sun. Light cleric. Boom.

Katherine: Definitely barbarian, but the subclass isn't clear. I might need to homebrew a monster hunter subclass here because while that would normally be a ranger thing I guess, this isn't the first time I've wanted to build a monster hunter with a big sword or big axe. For now, I'll say wolf totem warrior.

Shelby: Wild magic Sorcerer with really bad luck who decided to multiclass into the actual alchemist class on the side, but not enough to pick an archetype. Her spells go wrong all the time, often on accident, she doesn't learn from a book, she's having a great time. Sorry you got polymorphed into a frog lol.

Lizzie: Another wild magic sorcerer except she stopped trying after she turned herself into a cat and decided to instead become an arcane trickster rogue. She is not a cat, she prommy. She totally will not steal from you the moment you aren't looking. She enchanted her mask to make her look human. She is human. Worry more about your chests. Don't ask about the amethyst. She has expertise in deception.

[febrainrot]

okay real talk has anyone used the bow knights in Fates and Awakening? They always felt so lackluster both stat wise and skill wise compared to the sniper or adventurers. Rally skill is fine, but generally not what I would go for for my archer unit, and only really interesting to grab before switching to a better class. The shurikenbreaker skill isn't necessarily bad but shuriken units either don't have the strength to really affect your unit beside pretty minor stat reductions for units that already should get hit, have such high hit rate that the skill is unreliable, or both. The trickster's lucky seven is good for strong starts, and pass offers a lot of strategies, and while the bow knight is stronger, they have good utility with staves, and their resistance is better, while the bow knight's strength is still very weak. The sniper is extremely powerful and with phenomenal skills (certain blow absolutely obliterates elusive opponents and bowfaire only highlights their strength). Of course the bowknight has the range of a mounted unit, but....you don't really want to have your archer go too far ahead. Sure their sword is useful in that scenario but then they can be replaced by a regular cavalier, who will have even more variety for close combat.

As if it wasn't enough, the people who can actually access that class directly tend to function better in other classes: Niles is a very magic and resistance oriented unit so adventurer is the most logical choice for him. Laslow just works better in nearly every way as a hero, Selena could technically work there but again, is better as a hero, and if you want her to use bows the fact she's the only conquest unit to be able to be a Kinshi Knight which is a relatively solid class gives you a relatively better option even for this (the only drawback being having to start at E rank for lances). Soleil is a better ninja most of the times, but also has access to a lot of different classes depending of the mother. Nina is as magic oriented as her father if not more depending of her mother, and Anna benefits from the higher luck classes she has access to. It doesn't fit Flora or Felicia, As stated before Silas is probably better off as a great knight or paladin (or even hero), and don't pretend you would use Gunter.

I did make a bow knight Sophie build that ended up being somewhat correct with farming: with Azura as a mother, she ends up being a high skill high speed okay strength unit with Luna which activates often thanks to her skill, replicate from Silas befriending Kaze and renewal from her mother, leading to an actually viable Luna reliant dodgetank that can cover two areas (I believe I also gave her Sol lower on the skill list so it wouldn't get in the way of Luna, which activates enough to have her heal). Along with her personal skill lowering enemy defence, she manages to be both capable of surviving a fair amount of attacks on enemy turn AND dealing either massive damage with a killer weapon and/or luna or only deal a limited amount but lowering the enemy defence to play chip damage.

another build I want to try (gotta get a computer that can run citra first...) is bow knight Takumi. However the only way to get Takumi that class is by marrying a Corrin with mercenary/thief secondary class. My reasoning is that Takumi's personal growth and fujin yumi are already strong enough to carry him even in a class less fit for him, and that the fujin yumi cancelling terrain movement limitations would go very well with a mounted unit (while they are kinda redundant with a flyer, and come with more weaknesses). Maybe grab Sol if you opted for mercenary, or lucky seven & pass, then the usual Takumi strats and you now have a Takumi that has more movement than a sniper, none of the weaknesses of a kinshi, and not affected by terrains unlike mounted units.

[saberwitch]

incoming build/mechanics rambles; not necessarily seeking advice because I know I'm Doing It Wrong

I'm having a little difficulty setting Xyllrae up as what (in my mind) a Sword Dancer should be. Key phrases seem to be "specialized cleric" and "excellent dancers/singers". I chose a War Domain Cleric, but only just realized that the extra attacks you get from that consume your Bonus Action, meaning I can't like buff myself and then hit more than once. The same goes for offhand attacks. I can only use my Domain "charges" if I do a MH attack and nothing else.

I was thinking of dipping into Bard for a bit for the song & dance flavour, but then I run into MAD issues, and the whole Bonus Action thing would still be a problem. Other thought was Paladin, figuring that being able to Smite with the Domain "charges" might make it more worthwhile, but I'm not sure those two mechanics align like that. And that's MAD too.

Rogue is another possibility, since the Thief subclass gives you extra Bonus Actions, which would mean more charges could be consumed. And my stats defaulted to higher DEX than STR anyway, so I wouldn't have to use my Feats for ASIs.

OR. Fighter for a couple of levels to get Dueling and Action Surge.

However, I am seriously considering full War Cleric all the way through, just loading up on offensive ranged spells to soften things up before I am close enough to melee and leaving the heals and buffs to Shart

just be Sword Mommy of the Moon Goddess like Eilistraee intended

[littledoggy-girlcollar]

Oh my god dude, you can't just say "Jade is the fighter and Kit is the paladin" without going into some more intense detail about that!!!!

(my personal HC has been Jade is an Oath of Devotion Paladin who switches what her devotion is, and Kit is a Champion Fighter who takes levels in Paladin later...)

augh ok so. i'm gonna start with a base of thinking that for most characters, a mutli-class build probably makes the most sense for a lot of them (for instance boorman's generally seen as a rogue-type because of things he's mentioned about his past, but he doesn't really take part in certain classic rogue activities (being sneaky, has a huge sword) so it could also be argued that he's more of a melee fighter type with some rogue or bard charisma skills, or vice versa) but for the sake of argument we're gonna stick with one class with the presumption that they're all fairly low level (with the exceptions of willow and boorman, but we're not really talking about them here so they aren't really relevant).

some of this is also going to rely on outer knowledge and conjecture on things like what the fuck the blood of the six is.

i don't know if you watch critical role at all, but liam o'brien's current character orym is kind of a perfect example of what a fighter devoted to a) a cause and b) their party can look like. brian murphy's gerard of greenleigh over on d20's neverafter is also a great example of what a fighter can look like when they're concerned about protecting/helping their party members in battle instead of tanking. i feel like this fits in pretty well with jade's character and how she conducts herself in a lot of battles, whereas towards the end of the season....kit very much does not. but we'll get to her in a second.

on jade's part, i think a lot of it has to do with how her training has progressed. the comparison of fighter to knight can be a bit reductive towards both sides of it, but for ballantine specifically i think it works pretty well - the knight is dedicated to serving their cause and doing it well, but they aren't necessarily looking to...."make that anyone else's problem," let's say (in terms of looking at a paladin's oath as a kind of "light side" to a warlock's pact). jade is a talented sword wielder, and she is very devoted to serving her cause (which, at the start of the series, is very much the crown/throne, with a dash of "gay for the princess" thrown in), but she DOES want to leave to train to be a proper knight. not knowing much about the world, i would say that with her express interest being in going to join the legion to come back to be a knight in tir asleen (presumably), this doesn't really count as that "something more/someone else's problem," and this is fairly standard practice for a lot of knights. i also think a lot of her strive for something else can be given to straight characterization - going by the character creation formula, this could be attributed to her "background" as an orphan, ward, etc., where she's trying to prove herself in a way that she can recognize in others (ballantine, the whole story of sorsha and madmartigan, etc). plus, with the way we see her allegiance shift over the series from the crown/sorsha/tir asleen to kit specifically...if jade is a paladin, she certainly wouldn't have an oath yet. overall, the specific ways in which she devotes herself to things reads to me more as a fighter with something to prove than as a "core" aspect of her personality, though this could certainly change. i'm not totally sure what subclass i would give her, but i wouldn't put battlemaster out of the question.

to me, a paladin oath is something that a character has a near wholistic devotion to, something that directly complements their existing skills and personality. from a general standpoint, switching oaths doesn't make much sense to me - i feel like it'd be more likely for a paladin that wants to switch focus or expand to go for a multiclass than an oath change. this is definitely situational - oathbreaker is a choice for a reason, and i could totally see something happening to a devotion paladin that makes them go redemption or vengeance. but in any case, aside from the oath itself complementing skills already available, there is something about being a paladin that speaks to me as being intrinsic to a character's being - it requires looking at something, whether an idea or an entity, and fully devoting yourself to it. and that can absolutely be worked on or grown into down the line, anyone is capable of developing that, and i know the way i described it doesn't sound that dissimilar from marriage, but at the point we are in the story now...the only one i personally see fitting this is kit.

which is weird! because one of the first things we know about kit is that she wants to leave! she wants to run away, and she doesn't necessarily have a plan or something she's running towards but she's thought about and talked about it enough that jade knows about it.

but...

immediately after, airk gets taken. and she is immediately devoted to the sole purpose of getting him back. despite my tags on your post, i do think there were a couple of moments where kit could have stood to slowing down for a second (the wildwood comes to mind - specifically in wanting to move so fast that she kinda just tells everyone who she is and behaves rashly, which backfires, instead of taking a second to think things through). but even beyond kit not being wrong about her focus, i believe she would have been like that regardless of the perceived time constraint. i think she would have been like that if jade got taken from the castle by bone reaver forces. i do not think she would have been like that if graydon had been taken lmao.

as it stands now/at the start of the show, the thing kit is devoted to is the people she cares about. like with jade, i don't think she would have an oath before leaving on the quest, but i DO think she already had the baseline "looking for something greater" in terms of proving herself (mostly to sorsha at this point) to start getting into the first levels of a paladin class.

this is where the meta shit starts coming in. this is so many fucking words i'm so sorry.

so. bavmorda. fey. blood of the six. they KNOW we d&d bitches love our fucked up bloodlines this feels like a targeted attack.

here is the entirety of info i could find on the blood of the six: "the blood of the six is a bloodline of strong, but corrupt, sorcery... six fays betrayed the mothers to serve the dark power." the line continued, bavmorda found out she was of the bloodline, therefore sorsha kit and airk are also. quote taken from wiki. obviously this gives me a lot of headcanon power.

i think airk being taken was circumstance. i think if kit had been a little faster about saying bye to jade, or if she had decided to not do so at all, she could have been the one taken (if anything in the show contradicts that or says they were looking specifically for airk, lmk, my memory of ep 1 is a bit fuzzy lol). from what i can tell they wanted someone with a link to the wyrm (bavmorda was part of its order or whatever the fuck), and the blood of the six likely had something to do with it.

this gives kit a direct line to magic, something that paladins utilize but tend to gain at a slower rate than primary spellcasters. obviously a direct connection to magic isn't required, since a paladin is going to be swearing to a deity or a fey or whatever that would then grant them further powers, but it certainly doesn't hurt. of course, neither jade or kit use magic, so this argument can get pretty wibbly, but honestly if you were an orphan knight/a gay princess interested in swordfighting her "best friend" would you think you had magic? probably not. no i am not thinking abt the homoeroticness of lay on hands, go away.

while kit doesn't start out with an oath, i think she ends the season with one. the cuirass in particular feels like a paladin artifact to me (for every theory i've seen of why it works - using it for a good cause and not greed? mjolnir-style worthiness? the wearer's belief in themself? the belief of the person that puts the lux in? wow. and then it has built-in features that allow the wearer to protect the wearer's party? come on). but in terms of moments.....

i've discussed the paladin's oath being a reaching out to something greater and an intrinsic part of the paladin's character, and paladin-ness in general being a wholistic devotion to a cause. an oath doesn't have to be planned, it can be a spontaneous moment of utter certainty and connection. and kit absolutely has a moment like that.

it's when she's standing at the edge of the world, kneeling with her forehead pressed to elora's, with jade standing in the background.

(sorry i just went and rewatched the scene and bitch. oh my god. "my fear doesn't get to decide, it doesn't get to define me. i'm not giving it the power, i'm giving it to you. i have never believed in anything my whole life...i believe in you" HELLO. first off that's a paladin oath if i've ever heard one second why do you two look like you're about to kiss? why is jade framed in the background like that? she's in focus and then kit and elora stand up and she's not anymore what am i supposed to do with this what the fuck. literally staring into each other's eyes at the end of the world oh my god. i'm a tanthamore girlie but jesus christ. JADE KNOWS WHAT'S ABOUT TO HAPPEN THIS IS THE GAYEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN. KILORADE FOR THE WIN 20WHENEVER THE FUCK)

i don't think that the thing kit swore to was elora, but in this moment, she is elora's sworn protector. and what elora needs to do is go over the edge, and what kit needs to do is help her. kit literally turns them so that elora's back is to the edge and she goes over first. elora goes, kit follows what is at the very least a representation of her oath, and jade follows her. knight follows her paladin follows her sorcerer. somehow this is about to turn into kilorade propaganda so i'm gonna cut myself here.

i have a couple of oaths for kit in mind based on some uh...other theories i've talked about and how those theories might work in a fake season 2 that i've made up in my head, so i might talk about those separately if anyone's interested cause this got far too long lmao.

[3gremlins]

i get that it's a game and they're following the rules/world building of dnd but one place bg3 falls down for me in comparison to playing with a real person as a dm is in the paladin oath rules. like they really lack any sort of nuance as to who counts as innocents and who counts as guilty.

i've accidentally broken it twice b/c i'm kinda like "goblin kids might be doing evil things, but if we examine their circumstances and also that they are still children, i think it would be a violation to hurt them, there must be another way" which I feel you could argue pretty effectively with a human dm. Meanwhile the game gets mad if you attack the prison guards who are upholding a tyrannical regime, perpetuating evil and "just following orders" which I feel like shouldn't violate the paladin oath but anyway...

i'm also pretty loathe to use intimidation prompts b/c this is essentially being a bully (even tho obvs str is one of a paladin tav's highest stats) which i also feel goes against the whole point of being a paladin (to be clear, i do like that you lose your powers if you violate your oath, like if you are bigger and stronger, then you should only use your powers to protect others. I just wish it was a little less black & white about who "counts" as weaker/smaller). like at that point just be a fighter or something.

it's also pretty vague one who your particular patron god is, which i'm sure is for simplicity's sake b/c that would be a lot of systems to have to write into a game with already fairly deep systems. But for rp/hc reasons, i def wish they let you choose and had some lore assides with it (like a line of dialogue somewhere even or a special bonus from *your* god at the one temple).

( I don't necessarily think the binary-ness of it is all bg3's fault, but more one of the many problematic things from dnd's worldbuilding in general. It does make me miss the weirder/slightly more grey classes/people from divinity tho- like the divinity elves do eat people but aren't classified as evil per se, that kind of thing)

[dungeonaspects]

Campaign Idea: The Titans Awaken

The History

At the beginning of the world there were the primordials, the embodiments of the forces of nature, content to exist in the cosmos in which they inhabited. For eons they simply were the universe, intermixed in a careful balance orchestrated by powers beyond fathom. Until the first sentient being stepped into the world, and felt fear and confusion.

Mortal beings cannot understand these forces, so they cowered before them, begging for safety. When the primordials did not heed them, too far removed from these small creatures to even hear them, the races began worshipping concepts too abstract for the primordials to understand.

And so the first gods were made, born from the belief and fear of mortals they vowed to protect their worshippers. So the first gods began to bend the world to their will, shaping the once immovable rock into homes and towns, settling the whipping wind, binding the raging fires deep underground, and forming the oceans as separate from the earth.

The balance was disrupted, the primordials assaulted by this power they did not and could not understand. They struck back at the gods, creating avatars of their will, the titans.

The titans were unthinking beasts of purpose, bent on returning the world to peace, to return to the primordial form they were created from. They would trade blows with mighty deities, killing some, wounding others, but ultimately without the primordials themselves being able to rise up against them, the gods won.

The divine bound the primordials to their will, shaping the world in their image, gifting the sentient races the material plane as their domain. So the primodials existed in anguish for longer than even the god's memories, but now, the elder gods slowly fade into obscurity.

The Hook

With the eldest of the gods fading, the newer generation do not have the knowledge or power to hold back the primordials. Natural disasters are becoming more frequent and many are turning away from the gods as their suffering intensifies.

The titans have risen once more and gods are dying, temples are emptying, clerics are losing their powers. It is only a matter of time before the sentient races are left in dying pockets of life, doomed to perish from the inevitable forces of the world.

In desperation the gods have come together, good, evil, lawful, and chaotic, seeking the aid of mortals. They require powerful artefacts, the stabilisation of faith, the weakening of titans.

The party are members sponsored by a god each (not necessarily a cleric or paladin, a rogue of Lolth, a Wizard of Mystra etc) to return the world to what it once was, the impending doom fast approaching. Will they embrace the gods as their saviours? Or will they choose to save themselves, free of the deities only interested in saving their skins?

Some Ideas

So this is obviously a campaign idea more than a minor quest, designed to give the party a true "We are saving the world" kind of feeling. But there's still a lot of wiggle room for the party and DM in how it plays out.

The party may start out simply as adventurers, stopping bandits, killing orcs, but maybe looking a bit deeper the reason behind these events are due to the natural disasters displacing them, their gods abandoning them/dying. The gods dying would be a secret, many would lose faith if they knew that gods could die, the picture of a mighty divine being is hard to uphold when they can get bodyslammed by a titan.

This can be a slow burn, displacement for monsters turning up in weird territories, refugees seeping in from all around. Then as time passes monsters are turning up well away from their natural habitats, towns are vanishing into the ocean, refugees have become a "problem" (jeez that is a horrible way to describe innocent refugees) and slums have turned up in starving cities.

The players may pick a god to be chosen by (the character may not choose the god, the god may simply choose them) or they could be chosen later in the campaign. It depends if the players and the DM want to be bound to the god early or later.

And of course while they may follow the gods' plan and gather powerful artefacts (lots of dungeon crawls or planes hopping) to hand over to the gods to fight the titan, there is an alternative. The PC's may decide that these gods are simply doing it to save themselves as without the races the gods would either fade or be killed by the titans.

The PC's may choose to build an ark or a bunker, some place where no matter what natural event plays out those within will survive and shall emerge into the world anew. Gathering artefacts that will protect and feed them, keep them safe from disease, even keep them sane.

An intense base builder against time, using the warning of the gods as a means to save the races rather than the fickle and selfish divine. It's always up to you, how you want to play, how the gods and primordials will fit into your world.

Art by Sharkanry

I can feel the power radiating off this creature, so alien and ancient that no mortal could begin to comprehend it. It looks ready to slay gods, as unstoppable as the storm it was born from. It's amazing.

[saphirered]

Hi! I love your pieces for Caleb. They’re all so sweet and heartwarming. Would you be interested in writing about the M9 individually in a relationship with a Druid reader? If that’s too much at once, just Caleb please? Thanks and I hope you’re having a good day :)

I hope you enjoy this one and thanks for the request ☺️!

Caleb Widogast

Your natural magic caught his eye from the very first time you used it. Caleb’s intrigued by what he may not 100% understand and he may have used his own desire to pursuit knowledge to mask his interests in you because to get a better understanding of your abilities requires getting to know you. Countless questions, conversations into the early morning hours to the point where you agreed to show him whenever you had the free time and could afford to use your spells and abilities without repercussion in a possible enemy encounter.

Every time you find yourself in your preferred environment he can’t keep his eyes off you. The peace and calmness radiating from you made even Caleb feel at ease, almost forgetting about the possible dangers lurking in the shadows. He sticks close to your side bathing in the comfort you bring him. He may not be as comfortable with pda but he can’t help holding your hand when he’s sure no one’s looking. 

When you’re alone he’s much more comfortable spending time in your arms (or take you in his) to the point where you wake up together with loud knocking at your door signing you may have slept in a little bit too long for some of the Nein’s comfort. 

It takes Caleb some getting used but a couple months into your relationship he’ll initiate holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you or even kiss you in public much to the surprise of the rest of the Nein. They wonder what you’d done to their wizard to get him to do such a 180 but you only gave him time and space to find what he’s comfortable with and what he isn’t or isn’t yet in some cases. Like the seasons things can change and once spring comes again the flowers bloom once more. Sometimes it just takes a little longer for winter to fade.

Beauregard Lionett

Beau wasn’t much into your ‘treehugger shit’ (her words) at first and may have had some strong opinions about some of your customs but she’s also a quick study and you’re hot so what was she gonna do? Not ogle you while you work your magic literally and figuratively showing off that muscle build from the harsh life in the wilds you’d lived for so long? You knew she was staring every time but any time you acknowledged it she would deny it or pretend to have a coughing fit. 

Beau’s behaviour quickly changed once she had a real talk with you finding out you were anything but a ‘treehugger’. You’re accustomed to the brutality of the wilds and the two of you can definitely relate when it comes to learning things the hard way. Up front nature may seem honest but it is very much deceiving. Your way of reading nature taught you how to read people and you got the pleasure of being so smug about teaching Beau about your ways after she finally settled down. The two of you learned to like each other and the attraction between the two of you became more than just physical. 

Despite pretending not to care or be open about her feelings Beau is anything but. Having someone to confide in without judgement or the risk of it being used against her has been a blessing. Whenever you get the chance and find a peaceful spot she always joins you for some meditation. 

She’s not afraid taking the lead in your relationship but definitely isn’t opposed to you engaging either. The two of you have a functional dynamic and while you may have your arguments you always work it out in the end because you’re stronger together than you are apart. Besides, she can’t complain when you come in after a fight to heal some of her bruises be they to her body or her ego. Neither of you have any expectations and just take it day by day but you’re together nonetheless and honestly, you could both see this carry on in the future. 

Fjord

You’re as comfortable on the ocean as you are on land. This was something very important to Fjord when the two of you became more than just travel companions and friends. While he himself may at this point not necessarily want to return to the oceans soon out of fear of his former patron he would love to return to the port sights and trade routes and he’d love nothing more than bringing you along if you’d let him. 

Learning you had quite the arsenal of water based spells was a surprise and may have left him a tiny bit salty at what he had to go through to the point he is now for a fraction of that but he quickly got over it after you eased his mind. For how confident and charismatic he may be he can be quite awkward and shy when it comes to anything to do with romantic affections, especially engaging in them but luckily you aren’t and you are more than happy to push him into the deep with his consent of course. 

While he prefers to stay somewhat by your side and may jokingly say so he can protect you like the valiant paladin he is but in all honesty you both know he really just feels safer with you close by and you’ve saved his ass on more than one occasion, a fact you won’t let him forget and if he’s deemed you’ve had your fill he’ll just trow you over his shoulder and walk away with you. You may pretend to be grumpy or upset but your facade drops quickly and doesn’t fool him but a quick kiss ‘remedies’ your ‘mood’ quickly. 

At this point he’s grown so accustomed to you being somewhere near he sleeps much easier when you’re there. He may at one semi-drunken night have told you he’s sure you keep the nightmares at bay. Fjord would do almost anything for you even if that means a dreaded shopping trip. As long as he’s with you he actually enjoys it because it means he gets to spend more time with you. Though if he had to pick a favourite it would be any time the two of you had a moment to yourself on the ship just watching the waves and the clouds, his arms wrapped around you and head leaning on your shoulder. 

Veth 

Ever the kleptomaniac she’d stolen many personal possessions of you over time but only to admire them. Veth always returned them to you in the end but she simply couldn’t help but feel the itch to have a small collection of your things to herself. Though from the moment she had you she no longer really needed the material anymore because you are more than enough; you are her treasure. Though that doesn’t prevent her from stealing from others. 

You’re her partner in crime and she loves that about you. You have her back at all times and she has yours. Besides, what’s better than summoning literal lightning to make your grand escape from the chasing guards or a carefully created slab of ice in the middle of a street. 

When she came clean about her story you reassured her many times you wouldn’t feel any different because at heart she’s still the same and you love her for who she is. 

You love helping her with her ‘little side projects’ and while you may not be an expert tinkerer or alchemist you’re pretty nifty when it comes to the natural base elements and are happy to provide a flame to heat things up, ice to cool things down or a gust of wind or two to get rid of the nasty chemical smells and dusts. You’re the perfect team and she loves calling you her ‘lovely assistant’ whenever you’re working on something together. 

Jester Lavorre

Jester fell in love with you the moment you used your druidcraft to grow some vines and trip up some grumpy man who was rather rude to her. You have a knack for mischief yourself and the two of you make quite the team. While you may not be completely onboard when it comes to her deity the two of you had a mutual understanding; Jester’s best interest and you’d work together to make the world just a little more mischievous playing non-harmful pranks to lighten spirits. 

You’ve been a rock in the tiefling’s chaotic life and keep her grounded when she needs it. You listen to her worries and she to yours and the two of you have a mutual understanding and trust. Sure Jester may have proven in the past she’s not the best at keeping certain secrets, yours she’ll take to her grave. 

Jester loves braiding your hair, simply combing through it whenever she can or twisting a strand around her finger whenever you’re even remotely within close range of her. You listen to her and engage in conversation whenever she’s read a new novel and even let her read them to you. She’s very much a hopeless romantic but it’s cute. Your visage takes up many pages of her sketchbook and no one is allowed to mess with those pages. Not even the Traveler. 

When you were introduced to Jester’s mom you were nervous knowing the woman’s reputation and all that Jester had told you about her. You couldn’t help feel nervous and wonder if you were up to standards but Marion welcomed you with open arms only after making you vow to protect her little sapphire with your life. You proved that was exactly your intend but Jester did scold her mom for that saying it’s only fair she does the same for you as you love each other. 

Caduceus Clay

To say your relationship (more like lack thereof) is ‘unconventional’ is an understatement by most standards. You’re not lovers as neither of you are interested in the romantic nor physical aspects of a relation. Though you both do love watching from the sidelines as the relations of others evolve. You’d say the two of you have more of a partnership, like the best of friends and never would it become anything beyond that and you’re both happy with that out come.

You had always been connected to nature and Caduceus couldn’t help but see aspects of the Wildmother in you. He finds comfort in your presence and familiarity whenever you’re around. Especially in more rural areas, it’s like you’re the living breathing personification of nature. You give him a sense of home and you can say that feeling is mutual. 

The two of you are often found preparing food or tea sharing an affinity and love for the subject. Though you’re a much more versatile when it comes to your actual knowledge on the subject of nature and its diversity opposed to him having been confided to one environment for most of his life. 

From the moment you were introduced to his family they had already absorbed you up into their family. You may not be a Clay by blood but you certainly are one in spirit. His parents refer to you as their child and his siblings have taken to calling you their sibling. You’ve been their long lost Clay and with the blessing of the Wildmother you truly were accepted as one. 

Yasha Nydoorin

You bonded over your mutual love for flowers. Yasha had a past she’d rather not talk about and you weren’t one to pry. Every time you notice she’s feeling down and conflicted you’re never afraid to conjure up a little bouquet of flowers to gift her, the gesture always putting a smile on her face. 

At first Yasha may seem very distant and maybe even cold but she’s very much the opposite once you get to know her. She has a hard time trusting people but over time she opens up to you and you couldn’t be more grateful and honoured she did. 

It’s always been undeniable there’s a chemistry between the two of you but neither of you felt it the right time to admit to your feelings until you were quite literally locked in a room together. You had some good talks and came to the conclusion it could be a now or never and both of you would much rather take every second you could get than regret having missed even a single one. You’re very comfortable expressing your feelings as you’re both very in touch with them but only recently have the terms of endearment and physical affection become a public display. 

You’re there for each other no matter what and issues or arguments are quickly resolved if you have any as you both know where you stand and in the end your love for each other is much stronger than some petty disagreement. 

Mollymauk Tealeaf

Molly’s always been a mystery for many and a mystery he may remain but somehow you saw right through his act and that definitely earned his attention. He’s a very physical person and wears his heart on his sleeve. You were never opposed to him wrapping an arm around you or kissing your temple whenever you did something nice for him. That’s always just been Molly but it’s the little things you notice that gave away there may just be more than friendly feelings. 

Something that both excites and frustrates him before and in your relationship is your ability to get him all flustered. Sure he can do the same to you and he enjoys it every time he does but when you use it against him he’s not opposed to pulling out the big guns. Innuendos, sappy pda and terms of endearment often lead to full on make out sessions to the point where you’re told to get a room which you happily do. 

You’ve messed with plenty of people but your favourite has to be where he pretended to be a priest of the Raven Queen and you used your druidcraft to decay blooming flowers and bring them back to life and used a little gust cantrip to blow his hair and cloak dramatically in the wind. Sure once the facade was revealed you had to leave town quickly but you giggled for weeks and even now the mere thought sends you into laughing fits. 

Traveling the world is one thing. Molly doesn’t know about his past and you’ve left yours far behind. Your home is with each other and you’ll follow each other until the very end. 

[mediaevalmusereads]

The End Games. By T. Michael Martin. Harper Collins, 2013.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: YA horror

Part of a Series? No

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Michael and his five-year-old brother, Patrick, have been battling monsters in The Game for weeks. In the rural mountains of West Virginia, armed with only their rifle and their love for each other, the brothers follow Instructions from the mysterious Game Master. They spend their days searching for survivors, their nights fighting endless hordes of “Bellows”—creatures that roam the dark, roaring for flesh. And at this Game, Michael and Patrick are very good. But The Game is changing. The Bellows are evolving. The Game Master is leading Michael and Patrick to other survivors—survivors who don’t play by the rules. And the brothers will never be the same.

***Full review under the cut.*** Mild spoilers in the Plot section.

Content Warnings: blood, gore, violence, references to child abuse/domestic violence

Overview: I put this book on my TBR list ages ago after hearing a BookTuber gush about it. I was in the mood for a zombie story, so I figured now would be a good time to pick it up. Overall, my response to this novel was mixed; there were some genuinely creative and interesting things that Martin wove into your run-of-the-mill zombie survival story, but there were also things (like the “teenspeak”) that made it really difficult to read, at times. Thus, this book only gets 3 stars from me.

Writing: I understand that I’m not the target audience for this book, so the prose is not necessarily going to work for me. Martin writes in a goofy, exaggerated “teenspeak” style that reminds me a lot of the way T. Kingfisher writes in Paladin’s Grace. The humor is quirky and Martin frequently uses all caps to convey shouting. While “teenspeak” isn’t necessarily a problem in itself, in my opinion, it can date the book very fast. I think that’s what’s happening in The End Games; Martin tries to make his characters sound “cool” by inserting references to the PlayStation 3, Mountain Dew Code Red, and other cultural touchstones that, in 2022, feel outdated. Granted, if it was important that this book took place in 2006-2007ish (around the time the PS3 was released), that would be one thing - but setting wasn’t that important, so this book felt pretty out of touch.

But another drawback to this prose style is that it makes the tone hard to gauge. Because the “teenspeak” is often humorous or exaggerated, any serious emotion gets deflated. The characters could be in a life-or-death situation, and because of the goofiness, it could feel like they didn’t necessarily react in a believable way. Granted, I think this problem got better as the book continued; towards the end, the “teenspeak” lessened and events felt emotionally weighty, but before that, I really struggled at times to get through the story.

Plot: The plot of this book follows 17-year-old Michael Faris as he tries to get himself and his 5-year-old brother, Patrick, to safety in the midst of the zombie apocalypse. We follow Michael and Patrick as they scavenge for food and supplies before they run into a religious cult, which chases them until they encounter another band of survivors holed up in the capitol building.

As far as plots go, there wasn’t a lot about the apocalypse itself that felt new or surprising. What made this book interesting, however, was the relationship between Michael and his brother. The most interesting parts were the instances in which the perception of the apocalypse that Michael establishes for his brother clash with reality; you see, the synopsis on the cover is a bit misleading - it may have you believe that the zombie apocalypse is all a huge “game,” perhaps a simulation or cruel experiment set up in a dystopian universe. We learn fairly quickly, however, that Michael is only pretending that everything is a game in order to keep Patrick from breaking down. Patrick has some kind of mental illness or emotional instability due to the brothers’ experience in an abusive household; to shield him from the violence and terror of the zombies, Michael pretends that everything is a game and that they can’t really be hurt if they follow the rules. Once we figure that out, I was way more invested in the narrative than I had been before; I enjoyed reading about how Michael cared for his brother and the challenges he faced both as his protector and as his emotional support. But as much as I liked it, I think Martin could have done a lot more with the relationship; Martin uses a lot of “game language” to show how Michael keeps his brother involved, and I wanted to see even more “gamifying” of the apocalypse as well as more turmoil in Michael about how he’s presenting the world to Patrick. 

Another thing I appreciated about this book was the zombie lore that made the monsters feel more threatening. In this book, zombies are known as “Bellows” because they compulsively repeat back anything they hear. You can always tell if a zombie is near (even if they’re out of sight) by calling out a phrase - they’ll always echo something back. I really liked this because it meant that characters could be strategic; they could figure out if monsters were lurking in shadowy places or in tight hiding spots, and it was fun to see Michael use the Bellows to his advantage. I also liked that the zombies were sensitive to light and the book had a rationale for it; when the host dies, their pupils are permanently dilated, which means that they avoid sunlight, flashlights, and other things that could hurt them.

All of this is to say: Martin establishes some interesting lore that he then can play with later on in the book. I enjoyed the way the lore changed as the virus mutated, and I was most interested in the moments when everything I thought I knew was turned upside down.

But when it comes to the actual plot of the story, I felt there was a lot to be desired. I didn’t feel much invested in the threat of the religious cult, nor did the new band of survivors capture my interest (except in the moments when the relationship between Michael and Patrick were threatened or complicated). Overall, there were some genuinely interesting details, but as a whole, the narrative wasn’t “there” for me.

Characters: Michael, our primary protagonist, is hard to get a handle on. I really enjoyed his relationship with his brother and the way he tried so hard to make things seem ok. However, being inside his head could be a little frustrating. This book is narrated in 3rd person, but we still get glimpses of Michael’s thoughts, and they’re saturated with “teenspeak.” As I discussed above, the “teenspeak” makes tone difficult to gauge, and deflates the more emotionally weighty moments. After a while, it felt like Michael simply wasn’t taking the apocalypse seriously and was acting/thinking in ways that just didn’t feel realistic. But other than that, he was a courageous character who wrestled with a lot of guilt, and I can appreciate that.

Patrick, Michael’s brother, had a surprising amount of depth for a 5-year-old. I feel like any time I read about a young child, they’re either overly wise or about as intelligent as a baby. With Patrick, I appreciated that he was written as having his own mental struggles as well as a complicated relationship with his brother. Patrick would try to put on a brave face for his brother, which was surprising given that Michael would constantly be doing the same thing. It made it feel like Patrick was trying to imitate his brother, and it was sweet.

Supporting characters were a mixed bag, and honestly, I wasn’t very attached to any of them. Holly, a survivor around Michael’s age, could have been given more depth, but she mostly just felt like she existed to be an awkward love interest and to drop information when convenient. Her brother Hank was a wanna-be soldier who looked up to another survivor, Jopek, who was your rambo, military-style doomsday prepper. What I appreciated about Jopek was that he acted in much the same way as Michael’s abusive stepfather, so it made sense that Michael could manipulate or trick him using the same survival strategies he had used growing up. But even so, Jopek was a pain, and I got tired of him after a little while. The religious cult also felt one-dimensional, and I don’t have much to say about them.

TL;DR: The End Games has a flawed narrative and is difficult to read due to the “teenspeak,” but it has some genuinely interesting lore and a touching relationship between the protagonist and his little brother. While I wouldn’t recommend this book to zombie-enthusiasts, I do think it’s a worthwhile read for people who are more interested in relationships than the thrill of doomsday.

[utilitycaster]

w/r/t the holy avenger, but also, as per usual, one of my general D&D soapboxes, I don’t think Yasha will in any way have to multiclass into paladin to be able to attune to the sword, and I think that’s a much better way to play it.

One thing that I enjoy in D&D canon is that the PCs abilities are considered rare and exceptional. Not everyone who is devout is a cleric or paladin; not everyone who plays an instrument is a bard; not everyone who can use a sword is a fighter. You do just have people who are religious, or musicians, or trained in the basic use of a sword. In a kind of weird way it’s like the irl idea about not needing to monetize your hobbies; you can just jam on a lute or whatever and enjoy yourself without necessarily tapping into the music of creation.

I often side with rules as written, but when you break the rules, go with the spirit of the law and not the letter. Which is to say: Yasha is by virtue of her subclass dedicated to a deity already; becoming a paladin wouldn’t actually represent any kind of change in that relationship and it feels arbitrary to push someone into a class change (let alone one that would require a significant stat change, bringing a low mental stat to high; I don’t feel it’s comparable to a minor strength improvement).*

It makes much more sense to treat attuning holy avenger with the same rules as awakening or exalting a vestige, and to require an RP/character growth moment instead.

*I also don’t know the exact situation but I would assume that had he so chosen, Fjord did not have to take a level in paladin to switch his patronage to Melora and could have remained a warlock, particularly since he’s taken two levels of warlock since. In general, it’s not great DM-ing to require a very specific class build of a PC to permit character growth. As a DM, you do rely on your players not being apathetic to the world you set up and willingly engaging with it in a true and reasonable manner, but you absolutely cannot rely on them taking any specific path. This doesn’t mean you allow everything. By all means, require that the RP effort be put in to permit a mechanical change that doesn’t otherwise fit the rules as written leveling structure, but you should never require that the player make a specific mechanical change to permit character growth.

[troddensodden]

what i immediately think of you based on your favorite fallout 4 companion:

or maybe a better title would have been what i think based on the companion you relate to the most? im not sure that just doesnt have a good ring to it

anyway

- cait: you come across as a violent, or generally brash person, but are good at heart. your violence or harsh tendencies likely have a reason behind them. you probably had something in your past where people who you trusted ended up betraying you, or someone you idolized turned out to be someone completely different. and this had an impact on you, causing you to protect yourself in the easiest way you know—pushing people away. because if you don't have anyone important to you, then you can't go through the same thing again. (or you just like her accent. valid.) just remember, even if some people have hurt you, not everyone will. there are people who care. just let them in. don't be afraid to be vulnerable, that shows that you're truly strong.

- codsworth: you're a pretty sentimental person and struggle to leave the past behind. which, while sweet, may get in your way sometimes. but generally you are a nice person. you like to help people out, but the main source of pleasure you gain from that is the satisfaction of knowing you helped someone, rather than the happiness of just knowing that person was helped. your sentimentality likely originates from some sort of loss, whether big or small. remember, you have people in your corner. you can rely on them.

- curie: either you're into science or philosophy, or you like accents. but most likely you're a pretty sweet person. you like to help people, but it probably ends up being self-sacrificial quite often even if you don't realize it. take care of yourself!! you're important too, the satisfaction of helping other people wont be enough to help you in the long run, and you need to acknowledge that. you probably help people and use that as a scapegoat for someone you weren't able to help well enough, whether that person is you or someone else, and end up overlooking your own needs. prioritize yourself first, allow yourself to be the most important person in your life.

- paladin danse: either you like the military, or you only played the brotherhood storyline so you could have him. also, you probably have some deep-rooted insecurity based in everyone seeing you as different and judging you for it, but you don't do anything to counter it and end up avoiding people as a whole because of it. you may think of other people as too much effort, or too confusing, or generally just not worth it when there are more important things to be done. you look up to those stronger than you, and look down on those weaker than you, and use that to shape yourself. you end up leaving the real you behind, so that maybe other people will think you're just as strong as the people you admire. but you don't have to be strong all the time. its okay.

- deacon: you're secretive. not because you necessarily have anything to hide, but to protect yourself. you may have opened up to someone in the past and then lost them, or been betrayed, and now find it difficult to be honest about yourself. opening up about yourself to anyone is a sign of great trust, and something that doesn't happen often, so you have a hard time doing it at all, but especially after being hurt because of it. you keep your heart close to your chest, and hide it behind humor and lies, because at least you don't have to be honest when you're cracking jokes. a lot of these jokes are probably pretty self-deprecating, a way of venting your struggle without having to truly bare yourself to anybody. but you don't have to lie to keep people around. people will love you just as much if you're true to yourself.

- dogmeat: you're a bit of a lone wolf. whether it's for a serious reason or just a dislike for people, you find it much simpler to be by yourself. you may have trouble trusting people, or even just issues working with people because of conflict. but as much as it may seem easier to just avoid people as a whole, you cant do that forever. if you let people in, and you trust them, they'll trust you too. it will help you out in the long run. (or hey! maybe you just like dogs. thats valid.)

- hancock: you're a very accepting person. you let people open up to you, make yourself a safe space for anyone who might need it. but you don't open yourself up to others, out of fear that maybe they'll see your flaws and leave you. as accepting as you are, you struggle to accept parts of yourself, and assume others wont be able to either. you struggle to think you're good enough, and so instead you make yourself a blank slate in a way, for people to interpret however they want. you disregard yourself, your personality, your past, and try to start anew without actually resolving any of your history. which may work fine for a while, but eventually it will stack up. it never left, you just tucked it away. you need to confront your past before working on the future. accept yourself and others will too.

- maccready: you're also quite a sentimental person, but in another way. you can't leave the past behind, because it changed you. you want things to go back to the way they were, so you can maybe change the way things went, change the things you did, but you can't. furthermore, you find the world immensely unfair, and it is. and as much as you may wish things were different, they arent, and theres nothing you can do now to fix it. whether you want to forget or not, the memories stick with you, and continuously remind you what you "could have done," even if you couldn't truly have changed the outcome. forgive yourself. its okay to remember, but it's not okay to dwell on the past and keep hurting yourself over it. the past happened, but the future is still being built. live your life.

- nick valentine: you're a very giving person, and enjoy helping people. however, you can hold a grudge. whether you or someone important to you was wronged, you won't forget about it until it has been resolved. depending on the severity, a well-done apology can satiate you, but if they did something serious, you won't rest until they get what you think they deserve. not necessarily in a violent sense, but in a general manner. you recognize that the world is corrupt and unfair, and see it as your role to try to bring about some fairness in the world, but sometimes end up stretching yourself too thin. be careful. it's good to care so much about others, but be sure to care for yourself too.

- piper: you likely had to grow up too fast, because of something that happened in your past. because of that, you struggle to truly let loose. you refuse to rely on other people and insist on being self-sufficient, but you also insist on trying to take care of others too, which builds up a lot of stress that you never really learned how to relieve. so instead of taking care of your stress, you absorb yourself in work. additionally, you're very headstrong, and while being persistent is a good thing, it comes back to bite you once in a while. so make sure to be cautious. you need to protect yourself, but you don't need to always be on guard. relax, let loose. you're still young and have life ahead of you.

- preston: you've been at the lowest point in your life and back up again. this low point, though, changed you. the way you thought, the way you acted, the way you cared for people. it changed you, positively and negatively. you've seen and experienced a lot of struggle, and that made you stronger, but it also made you afraid. not afraid of getting hurt, but afraid of not being able to protect those you care about from the strife that you've seen cause the downfall of so many people. you see it as your role to protect people, as something that brings you purpose. you've probably felt that way for a long time though. someone you admired may have gotten hurt and you weren't able to protect them, and you try to make up for it by protecting everyone else. but it's not your responsibility to protect everyone. it's not your fault if you can't. protect yourself first, and find self-worth outside of your work. focus out the present, and everything else will fall into place. its okay to take a break.

- strong: you prioritize yourself over others, to the point where you may end up disregarding other peoples thoughts or feelings because you think yours are more "important." because of this, you are generally a bit judgmental and only think something is worthwhile if it will benefit you. this may originate from some sort of neglect or similar treatment in the past, where you were forces to be self-sufficient. but it is important to be able to prioritize yourself while still being kind to other people. you look down on people who you think are weak, because you were forced to be strong enough to protect yourself. but you should allow yourself to listen to other people, because they'll care about you if you care too. relationships are valuable and important, even if you have only a few of them. be more open to other people, it won't hurt you.

- x6-88: similarly, you may feel a sense of superiority over some people. however, this is likely because you were frequently admired and praised for not showing vulnerability, whether in a physical or emotional sense. you may tend to repress your emotions, out of convenience or fear of having them used against you, which ends up affecting you negatively in the long run for a variety of reasons. for one, emotions will build up, causing stress and general struggle. but also, refusing to open up can harm interpersonal relationships, causing issues with trust, honesty, and more. you may feel relationships aren't worth it, but having people in your corner in a way that's mutually beneficial is very important. vulnerability is a sign of strength, but you were likely taught the opposite, and it's hard to shake something so deeply ingrained. it's a process, but it's worth it. allow yourself to be vulnerable, allow yourself to be protected. you won't disappoint people, it's alright.

[joshstambourine]

Lover, Leaver Pt. 1

"Ooooooh, I love your music ask idea... could you do a Lover, Leaver one with Danny? 👀" - @anditsmywholeheart

Okay. So.

I probably took this in a total different direction than you were imagining @anditsmywholeheart , hopefully you still like it 💜

I fought myself for a long while which way to go with this song prompt as the tune is so rock and roll, so at first I thought something fun and gritty but... the lyrics for this song give me such mythical vibes!

So I opted to go for something magical and fantasy based (this decision may or may not have have been swayed by my playing a shit tonne of Witcher recently. As well as helping my S/O with his D&D Campaign.)

Annnnnd surprise this one is not going to stay a one shot either! You guys are getting a magical series hurray!

Warnings: Cursing, Slightly NSFW

Word Count: 2891

Paladin!Danny × Sorceress!Reader

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll

The cold wind whistled over the heights of the keep. It was so crisp. Danny’s eyes drifted over the edge of the thick stone rail of the tower, snow beginning to dance down from the dark gray sky. Danny was fully aware of what was coming, it didn’t take a genius to recognize the kind of trouble that was coming towards him now with full speed.

Danny’s eyes were unmoving, locked on the horizon now. “Are you cold?” He soon let out, to the woman sitting on the ledge beside him. Or, I suppose I should say hovering over the ledge.

(Y/N) began to shake her head slowly, “Danny.. I can’t feel it…” She simply responds, her words taking to the air in a puff of curling mist. Many sorceresses like (Y/N) went through rigorous training so as to be unbothered by even the most extreme temperatures.

Danny was quiet for a moment, the only sound was the hanging bits of Danny’s chainmail clinking against his plate armor. “Ah… I almost always forget.” He admits with a weak laugh, his gaze fell upon her now.

He couldn’t help but stare as her hair was tousled in the cold wind, it was almost a strong enough wind to pick up the end of her heavy velveteen cloak and toss it up into the air. As long as Danny had known (Y/N), she had always been rather… stoic? That wasn’t quite the word. Perhaps simply serious was a better word. It wasn’t necessarily her fault, most mages and sorcerers had to go through many horrendous trials to be able to hold any place in the magic practicing society. Not to mention the amount of witch hunters roaming the land and pouncing on any person who practiced magic.

(Y/N)’s seriousness didn’t deter Danny, nor would it cause his affections to wain. The moment Danny had laid eyes on her… he had known.

Danny could almost hear the sound of the band playing again now. With a small blink of his eyes he was back in The Royal Curtain.

He was surrounded by happy music, and much happier people. Many were drunk out of their skulls, but of course that came with the territory. But these people were happy for reasons aside from just alcohol and good music; this tavern in particular was very well hidden, actually being in the cobblestone basement of the building. That meant, it was a safe haven for those who practiced magic as well as any who were nonhuman. There were many outlanders present here throughout the day: elves, dwarves, halflings, even a few lizard folk, the list went on and on.

The Royal Curtain was a place for people to just let their hair down and enjoy themselves for once without being spit at or much worse.

Places like the Royal Curtain also meant business for people like Danny; there were so many people wronged by others here, people who weren't protected from the monsters that were all around, and people who just needed help settling somewhere safe. This was the place he loved to be, a place where he could use his abilities and frankly his humanity for good.

Danny shuffled through the crowd, a smile always being clad on his features. He just couldn't help it when he came here. These folk deserved to be happy for a while.

He broke his way through the crowd and came to find a seat at the bar.

"Ah! Danny! What have we done to deserve this pleasure?" Inquired a tall woman from behind the counter, her skin white as a sheet, eyes a bland shade of gray. "Here to enjoy yourself for once?" She continued with a sly smile, long white curls falling around her paper thin figure.

Danny softly laughed, waving it off, "No, no, just business as usual, Nil." He explains.

Nil frowned a little, "You're going to work yourself to death you know." She tells him, beginning to reach for a glass. Nil was a part owner of this establishment, she worked at the bar in the basement while her partner tended to the upstairs level.

Nil was a being known as a changeling - a race that looked like it was created by someone who had a human’s likeness described to them but had never actually had seen one. They had no distinct features; skin, hair, eyes, they all were some shade of grey or a colour that was drained of most of its pigment. This of course, was for a reason. Changeling’s had the ability to change shape at will, and tend to have to learn to lie their way through their lives to survive; because of this most people assume that they are criminally inclined, which is almost never the case.

"At least it would be for a good cause." Danny cheerfully says, watching her as she poured him his usual glass of Fire Brandy.

Nil wore a warm smile, "We appreciate all the effort you put in. Honestly." She continues in a loving tone. She meant it, and Danny was well aware of this.

Nil had done many things herself in the name of protecting magic users and nonhumans. In fact she had led many revolts in her life. However, Nil was now a mother and certainly couldn't be expected to to stick her neck out as often as she had when she was young. Which meant people like Danny needed to step up, pick up the slack.

“So?” He lightly asked, hand taking the glass between his finger tips. “Anything…?” Danny continued, if anyone was going to know if someone needed help or something was happening, it was going to be Nil.

Nil lips pursed a little as she looked around the room, seeming to be thinking. Danny took notice of her hands, covered in scars and surprisingly rather bejeweled - a ring with the crest of a royal house on her hand, an odd thing seeing as she had never been much more than a street urchin. Danny never had the courage to ask Nil why she had the ring in all the time he had known her, he didn’t know if he would ever find out frankly.

“I know there is a family of dwarves needing an escort…” Nil lightly begins, “But… I don’t suppose you want to run the risk of having the guard notice your frequent travel out of the city lines…” She utters to herself, before biting her lip. “There is something actually.” She admits.

Danny leaned forward against the bar, taking another sip of the brandy. “Something?” He inquired,

Nil nodded, “It’s… not something I would normally expect you to get involved with. Sam is normally who I’d reach out to… he’s better with the arcane but…” She slowly muttered,

“I know… I still don’t know where he is Nil.” Danny lets out. Sam, a fellow clan member and friend had gone missing in the weeks previous. No one knew where he went, just that he left behind some form of note… all in the dead language. To this moment Sam’s brothers had been trying to find someone to decipher it, but it so far had been no use.

Nil frowns a little, knowing how important Sam was to him, but she continued on. “There is a Sorceress here somewhere. She is looking for help to find something... an artifact of some sort.”

Danny immediately grimaced, “Agh… Nil, you know I don’t get involved with that kind of bull---” He sighs, having already done too many errands for wizards promising to pay him a reward to fetch “a simple artifact”... it was always more work than it was worth. He had yet to meet a Wizard that didn’t short change him and proceed to complain about the “dings” on the item in question, as if it hadn’t existed for thousands of years before Danny came along.

Nil shook her head a bit, knowing how he felt about tasks like this. “I’m aware, but, I have been led to believe that this is different.” She continued, “Just help with hunting down some fellow sorcerers and getting more information. She had come in to ask if I knew a Vitalis Kein---” Nil explained, seeming to slow when it came to the name.

“And? Do you…?” Danny inquired with a perked brow, it was something about the way she had said the name, it just didn’t sit well with him.

Nil was quick to shake her head, “Not a clue. I have never had anyone by that name come through the inn.” She admits suddenly seeming at ease once again.

Perhaps Danny had imagined the little waver in her voice? He shrugged it off into the back recesses of his mind, ‘It was nothing I’m sure.’ He tells himself, hand moving to push back the few curly pieces of hair that had fallen from the ribbon holding his hair in place. “Is she still here?” He inquired,

“Upstairs I believe, Helgrim will know the room.” Nil says, lightly moving to refill a few tankards that had been slammed down on the bar.

Danny tossed back the rest of his brandy and began to stand, pulling a few coins from his satchel. “Thanks Nil.” He smiles,

“Come see me again soon! You still owe Syl a sword lesson.” She hummed, with a wide smile. Syl was her daughter, the girl was barely four years old but had a fire for swordsmanship.

“Tell her I’ll be her next week okay?” He laughed lightly.

Danny walked down the long hallway in the inn, searching for a room that was tucked in the far back corner, close to the back exit for obvious reasons. Those obvious reasons being that it was an easy escape incase of a raid. Danny’s armor rattled with each step he took, it was surprising just how quickly you could drown out a noise when it became part of your everyday life.

Finally he had found the door to the room; it was strange… the few steps that were closest to the door Danny had begun to notice the air get heavy. A soft… tingle? Yes, a tingle, running up and down his spine. His lips parted, ‘Magic?’ Danny thought to himself, recognizing the feeling. ‘She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be exuding so much here could she…?’

As his fingertips touched the door handle soft purple sparks climbed his fingers, they burned as they climbed to his knuckles. Quickly Danny recoiled his hand; his eyes watching as purple runes sizzled and glowed in the wood of the door.

‘Fuck--- a protection spell.’ Danny thought, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t dealing with a novice. Danny knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the door, that burn was a warning --- any use of force and he would more than likely be shot through the wall due to the reverb… he had learned from experience. Sam had once cast protection on his bedroom door… it wasn’t a fun time for anyone.

With a huff, Danny moved to begin digging through his satchel. Eventually tugging free a yellow crystal, holding it tight he moved it closer to the door --- within an instant it began to glow. He brought a second hand up, with both hands he moved the crystal to draw opposing runes in the air. As he did so the air got heavier and heavier, more electricity rising before---

CRACK!

The crystal shattered in his hands. However, the door had creaked open without any further opposition. With magic, things always came at a cost. You couldn’t expect something without giving nothing. Carefully Danny began to skulk forward, pushing the door open, it was dark in the room… pitch black almost.

Danny could see billows of mist brushing by his feet, he looked at it curiously. Hand reaching back for his sword with uncertainty, “Hello…?” He called, his voice echoed back as if the room went on forever. Danny’s fingers began to clutch at the hilt of his blade, eyes moving over the darkness keenly. Every step he took into the room he could feel the air get heavier and heavier, and… oddly enough to smell more and more like flowers. “Hello…?!” He called again a little louder, voice seeming to echo even farther.

A loud crack made him jump, quickly looking behind him to see that the door had slammed shut behind him. Danny felt his eyes widen as he quickly began to make his way back toward it, he only made it a few steps before he heard her.

“I’ve been expecting you.” A woman's voice echoed at first not seeming to have any particular location, almost rattling through his head more than anything. Danny didn’t know where to look, his lips parting unsure what to say, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Said the voice again, this time right by his ear.

Danny spun around, eyes wide with disbelief when he found himself staring at a now sunny space full of flowers, it… was almost a greenhouse or royal garden, but something about it told him that wasn’t quite it. As he looked up there was no glass ceiling… and no sun either, just a black sky full of stars. And yet this space was filled with bright and beautiful daylight, it causing the dew on the plants to glisten.

Danny looked back behind him but only found more shrubbery and flowers growing wildly; nervously he began to take steps forward. Danny had no idea where he was going, or where he was even… only that there were flowers of every sort and shape. Danny could hear the fine gravel under his boots crunch with each step, it was a change from the creaking floorboards of the inn.

A small purple butterfly took to the air as Danny passed, fluttering ahead of him softly. Danny watched it curiously, noticing that it seemed to fly in one spot for a time as if it was waiting for him to follow. Danny eventually did so, eyes staying open to anything that could happen. ‘I hate sorcerers.’ He thinks to himself, being all too aware of the kind of things they pulled to show their “unimaginable power”. It didn’t impress Danny in the slightest.

The butterfly made a few brisk turns, leading him down many paths until they came to a space where falling water could be heard. As soon as the sound was able to be heard the butterfly disappeared into purple mist; Danny could only sigh and shake his head. Everything here was most likely an illusion of some sort, many magic users created something of… a study den if you will. A place where they felt safe to practice their magic, though this place was all in their imagination… part of a meditation.

Danny continued forward to find a pond with a small fresh water waterfall running into it. “It’s about time.” The woman’s voice spoke again, as his eyes came to meet the owner his cheeks immediately turned a fiery red. Danny was quick to lift his eyes skyward; the woman before him stepped out of the water completely naked without any shame.

“Ah-- a shy one I see.” She uttered out loud, pulling her fingers through her wet hair.

“Not at all, just… a gentleman.” Danny responded, not wanting to look down at her until she was fully clothed.

“A gentleman would have knocked before entering my chambers.” She responded, with a subtle grin.

“I would have knocked, but I know better than to even flick a protected door.” He tells her, it was a strange feeling having his eyes upward. As a general rule Danny thought it safer to always keep his eyes on people he wasn’t sure could be trusted, somehow though, looking away from her came instinctually.

“Fair,” She utters, taking a seat on a large stone by the water. She didn’t seem inclined to put on any clothing at all, exuding all the confidence in the world. “Good god man, you can look at me. I won’t bite.” She tells him.

Danny struggled to lower his gaze back to her figure, “Just--- can you put on a towel or something? Please?” He responded,

“You realize this is my realm, I don’t have to do anything you ask me to.” The woman tells him seriously, “In fact I could have removed your clothing if that was my intention.” She admits, arms folded, but abiding by his request. She moved to place a loose robe over her shoulders.

“Now tell me. Are you here to help me Danny?” She inquires, not bothering to tie the ribbon around the waist.

Danny cleared his throat as his gaze finally came upon her, “I… well I came here to get more information.” He tells her, eyes lingering a little on her facial features. It was true what they said about sorceresses… they were always enchantingly beautiful. Danny almost fell into a dream-like state looking into her eyes, “Like… what you’re doing here in a city that wants your kind dead first off.” He finally continues.

“Oh,” She hummed, “Nil didn’t tell you?” She says, no expression coming to her features. She slowly locking eyes with him,

“...I’m going to kill the King.” She says.

//So this was incredibly fun to write. I just got so freaking lost in it. It's up to you guys if you want me to do a separate fic series following the Kiszka brothers as this one is just Danny for now! If so, leave me some ideas for what race or role yall think they would have!

Fun fact is actually a character I play in a D&D session my S/O runs! You'll definitely get more information about her as the story continues on.//

[tigerkirby215]

5e Olaf, the Beserker build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Phroilan Gardner. Made for Riot Games.)

Olaf sounds like ProZD’s Archibald voice. Especially Olaf’s voice lines for using his Q it sounds exactly like ProZD’s “Huah! I think that enemy got the point!” Like I’m not crazy right? Please tell me I’m not the only one who hears this.

Anyways Olaf has been on my To Do List ever since I realized that I haven’t made a single champion whose name starts with the letter O. My desire to make Olaf was only further accentuated by the Sentinels of Light event, even if his inclusion in that event could best be summed up with...

But I won’t ignore Olaf just because the Sentinels of Light event was a flop. He’s still a compelling character that I have actually gotten some requests to make. After all: the dual-axe wielding Barbarian is an iconic image!

I mean, Olaf is probably just going to be 20 levels in Beserker Barbarian so I don’t know why you need me to make a build for that.

GOALS

C'mon, I won't hurt you - We’ll need ways to heal when we harm in the middle of combat.

Death by steel! - Swing axe, throw axe; unga bunga me play Olaf.

The might of Lokfar approaches - I didn’t manage to do so with Mundo but Olaf is going to need to have CC immunity.

RACE

Olaf is a human; feel free to pick a different race like Goliath or even Custom Lineage to justify him being Iceborn but Variant Human is still the best option. Increase your Strength by 1 as well as your Constitution, grab any skill proficiency of your choice as it honestly doesn’t matter much for Olaf (maybe you should’ve been Custom Lineage for Darkvision after all?), and the Primordial language because I’m sure you picked up on the language of the wild.

For your feat you have a choice: Dual Wielder will let you wield two d8 Battleaxes (instead of d6 Handaxes) and also increase your AC by 1 while dual-wielding, but the Fighting Initiate feat will let you grab Two-Weapon Fighting which will let you add your Strength modifier to your second axe’s swing. I persually opted for Dual Wielder as it gives you more benefits overall, and we’ll be getting ways to throw axes without having to hold onto them first.

ABILITY SCORES

15; STRENGTH - I mean, you’re a shirtless Barbarian running around with two axes. You thought this would be a DEX build?

14; CONSTITUTION - The reason you can’t die is because you’re so hardy. Sucks!

13; CHARISMA - Despite Riot’s great attempts at writing you as poorly as possible you do still have some sort of Charisma. Remember that Charisma is force of personality, not necessarily good looks or personal hygiene. Charisma is needed for Intimidation as well as multiclassing.

12; DEXTERITY - You need to be quick on your feet to run at your enemies with reckless abandon.

10; WISDOM - If you were wise you wouldn’t be trying to kill yourself.

8; INTELLIGENCE - You stopped caring about education the moment you were born. Battle is the only thing in your blood!

This build is also quite viable with Point Buy, going for a stat array like 15 / 12 / 14 / 8 / 8 / 14 if you want lower mental stats but higher combat stats.

BACKGROUND

The Uthgardt Tribe Member background from the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide is basically the Outlander background but you actually belonged to Freljordian society once. Regardless you do get proficiency in Athletics as well as Survival (”Survival” as in finding food to eat, not as in keeping safe on the battlefield!), a musical instrument or artisan’s tool of your choice (choose whatever you fancy and make your own Olaf, as long as it’s something a warrior would do! I personally opted for Smith’s Tools to sharpen your axes), and a language of your choice (pick whatever language they spoke back in the villages.)

Your background Uthgardt Heritage is the Outlander’s Wanderer feature with extra steps: along with being able to find food and water you are also treated well by nomads and wanderers who have heard of your glorious battles!

(Artwork by Marie Magny and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARBARIAN 1

Starting off as a Barbarian because what else would we be? You get proficiency in two skills from the Barbarian list: Intimidation is an obvious must and Perception will help you find good fights to take!

As a Barbarian you get Unarmored Defense equal to your Dexterity plus your Constitution, which is currently a 13... Well Medium Armor is an option if you want to finally put on a shirt. And of course as a Barbarian you can Rage to deal more damage and resist incoming damage! You can’t cast spells while Raging, but that won’t matter, right? It’s not like I’m about to give you caster levels.

LEVEL 2 - FIGHTER 1

Quickly hopping over to Fighter to further your martial skills. You can grab a Fighting Style like Thrown Weapon Fighting to draw weapons in the same action you make to throw them, and also do +2 damage with thrown weapon attacks. See? Told you we’d be able to throw axes easily!

You also get Second Wind for some not-quite-Lifesteal to keep you in the fight to claim even more glory! Certainly not to stay alive.

LEVEL 3 - FIGHTER 2

Well another Fighter level for Action Surge is certainly worth it, as you can push yourself to destroy your foes!

LEVEL 4 - FIGHTER 3

But we need one more Fighter level to be able to get our axes back after we throw them. Eldritch Knights get Weapon Bond, allowing them to always keep two weapons on hand and never lose them. While bonded with a weapon you can’t be disarmed of them, and you can use a Bonus Action to recall a weapon if it’s not in your hands. My suggestion would be to bond to a Battleaxe and a Handaxe, so you can’t be disarmed of at least one of your main weapons and can also call your thrown axe back to throw it again!

You also get Spellcasting as an Eldritch Knight: You learn two cantrips from the Wizard list, and three spells as well. You may be thinking “wait; didn’t you dump Intelligence?” That is correct, but you don’t need Intelligence to cast Light to see with your dumb human eyes (I mean technically you need Intelligence if you want to cast Light on someone else but it’s probably easier just to light up your axe and throw it at them) or Prestidigitation, which is a better spell for creating bonfires than the actual Create Bonfire spell.

Your leveled spells have to be from either the Evocation or Abjuration schools, but thankfully Absorb Elements and Shield are both from the Abjuration school and also don’t need Intelligence. Protect yourself from damage to have a truly glorious death! Because it’s not like blocking attacks will keep you alive.

You can also learn one spell from any school and uhhhh... Pick your poison between Jump and Longstrider, to make it easier to chase your foes. Are there probably better spells? Yeah, but do they fit Olaf?

(Artwork by Xiao Guang Sun and West Studios. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - PALADIN 1

Jumping over to Paladin for a few abilities, such as Divine Sense to find some things that will put up a good fight like Fiends, Undead, or... Celestials? I’m sure they hit hard! You can also find a good desecrated (or consecrated) battleground with this ability, as I’m sure there will be good enemies there! You only know of an enemy’s type however, not their name. And if they’re hiding from you this ability won’t make it any easier to find them.

You also get Lay on Hands, which is like lifesteal you can give to allies! You have a pool of hit points equal to your Paladin level times 5, and you can use it to either heal (at a rate of 1 point per hitpoint) or neutralize a poison or disease affecting a target. (5 Lay on Hands health to neutralize one poison or disease.) Dying to natural causes isn’t a glorious death, brother!

LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 2

We’ll also need second level in Paladin to get a Fighting Style, but since Wizards of the Coast hates fun you can’t can’t take Two-Weapon Fighting, and since we’re running around in our birthday suit Defense also isn’t an option. The best official Fighting Style you can take is Blind Fighting (Blessed Warrior is okay too if you want Guidance I guess) but talk to your DM about potentially letting you take Two-Weapon Fighting? It’s not like it’s OP or anything (in all honesty it’s kinda shit.)

Paladins also get... more Spellcasting?! Disgusting! Well this spellcasting is based on your Charisma modifier instead of your Intelligence, which might be why we have it at a 14. But even so you can’t prepare that many spells: Divine Favor will let you empower all your attacks with more damage for some Vicious Strikes, Cure Wounds will again be acting as life-not-quite-steal, and Shield of Faith will let you or an ally absorb more blows, not that you want to live or anything. Also remember to check the Player’s Handbook to see how many spell slots you’d have after mixing two casters together.

But I still think the best course of action for your spell slots is to use them for Divine Smite! Throw caution and magic to the wind to make a Reckless Swing that does extra Radiant damage (depending on the level of the spell slot used.) The Smite deals 2d8 of damage for a first level slot, and an additional d8 of damage for every slot above first. (The simple way to remember this is that you roll a number of d8s equal to the spell slot used plus one.) If the enemy is a Fiend or Undead the damage increases by a d8! The maximum level spell slot you can use for this is a 4th level slot (for 5d8 damage, or 6d8 against a Fiend or Undead), but I doubt we’ll get spell slots that big.

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 3

We may as well take a third level in Paladin for a Sacred Oath, and you swore an Oath of Glory in battle! Along with Guiding Bolt and Heroism being added to your spell list (as if you can cast spells lmao) you get two Channel Divinity options: Peerless Athlete turns you into... well, a Peerless Athlete with advantage on Athletics and Acrobatics checks. You can also carry, push, drag, and lift twice as much weight as normal, and to top it off the distance of your long and high jumps increases by 10 feet. This boost lasts for 10 minutes which should be more than enough to give it your all in battle!

Alternatively for some more not-quite-lifesteal Inspiring Smite can be activated after you Smite to give yourself or nearby allies within 30 feet temporary hitpoints. The total number of temporary hit points gained by this ability equals 2d8 + your Paladin level, and you can distribute them amongst yourself and your allies however you wish. Technically the most gameplay-accurate way to split the Temp HP would be to take it all yourself but being helpful has its benefits. A battle is truly glorious if fought alongside an army of companions!

You also get Divine Health, because Glory doesn’t die on sick days!

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 4

It’s about time to take that 4th Paladin level to finally get an Ability Score Improvement: +2 to Strength for stronger axe swings is an obvious choice!

You can also prepare another spell like Bless, which will make it easier for you and your allies to smite your foes and survive their blows! Wait, what was that about surviving?

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 5

Since it’s so close we may as well take the 5th level of Paladin so you can finally make an Extra Attack. That means you have two attacks normally and a third attack with your Bonus Action thanks to Two-Weapon Fighting!

You can also prepare second level Paladin spells now, and the Oath of Glory gives you Enhance Ability and Magic Weapon as spells you can cast. Believe it or not these are actually useful, even with your low spellcasting modifier!

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 6

The 6th level of Paladin is honestly too good to pass up: even though Aura of Protection is only adding +2 to all your saving throws (since your Charisma is kinda uhhh... not good?) that’s still +2 to all your saves, as well as the saves of your allies within 10 feet. That’s like, two whole Rings of Protection!

Speaking of rings: Warding Bond was added to the Paladin spell list thanks to Tasha’s and it’ll let you take damage for your allies to die in their place! As long as you don’t mind wearing some platnium rings in your beard, at least.

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 7

What we’re really here for is the 7th level of Glory Paladin. Aura of Alacrity will increase the speed of you and your allies within 5 feet (not 10, because Wizards of the Coast are weird) by 10 feet, so you can charge at your foes with the might of Ragnarok!

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 8

But we may as well take the 8th level of Paladin for another Ability Score Improvement: cap off your Strength for the deadliest strikes possible.

You can also prepare another spell but it would be wise to wait for...

(Artwork by JoJo So. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 9

9th level Paladins can prepare third level spells like Crusader’s Mantle to give all your nearby allies the Divine Favor buff to rush into battle with you! But the main reason we’re dipping this deep into Paladin is for the two spells from the Oath of Glory: Protection from Energy perhaps isn’t all that fitting, but Haste is insanely useful and powerful. More attacks, more speed, more... armor? Well, it’s no matter. More glorious battle!

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 10

10th level Paladins won’t be swayed by magic swaying their hearts! Aura of Courage will let you (and your allies within 10 feet) laugh in the face of death as you gain immunity to the Frightened condition!

You can also prepare another spell like Aura of Vitality: you can use it to heal yourself but healing your allies will lead to a far more glorious story to tell of your death.

LEVEL 15 - PALADIN 11

I promise that we’ll go back to Barbarian levels soon but 11th level Paladins get a huge boost to their damage output thanks to Improved Divine Smite. This ability affects all your attacks (not just your Smites despite the name) to give them an extra d8 of Radiant damage. This has obvious synergy with your choice to swing two axes since your Two-Weapon Fighting attack will also get that extra d8 of damage!

LEVEL 16 - PALADIN 12

Okay but let’s quickly grab the 12th level of Paladin first. You can either increase your Constitution for more health and AC, or your Charisma for better saving throws and spellcasting. I personally opted for Charisma but if you value health and AC then Constitution is good too!

Oh and yeah you can prepare more spells, but there aren’t really that many other third level spells I want.

(Artwork by Alvin Lee. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 17 - PALADIN 13

That’s because 13th level Paladins finally get 4th spells which most importantly means Freedom of Movement! There you go you finally have Ragnarok’s CC immunity! You also get Compulsion which sure would be a good spell if you had any Charisma to actually cast it.

But you can also prepare more spells like Aura of Purity so you and your allies can shrug off whatever your foes might throw at you to stop you from reaching them, or Death Ward which you ABSOLUTELY WILL NOT USE ON YOURSELF.

LEVEL 18 - PALADIN 14

Okay but the 14th level of Paladin gives you Cleansing Touch, letting you cleanse spells without spell slots to cast Freedom of Movement. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Charisma modifier and regain all expended uses at the end of a Long Rest.

You could also perhaps prepare another spell like... Aid? I don’t know really by this point the magic is secondary. We’ll be going back to Barbarian soon anyways.

LEVEL 19 - PALADIN 15

But 15th level Glory Paladins get Glorious Defense, and we can’t pass that up! When you or another creature you can see (technically an enemy if you so desire!) within 10 feet of you is hit by an attack roll, you can use your reaction to grant a bonus to the target’s AC against that attack equal to your Charisma modifier. If the attack misses you can make one weapon attack against the attacker as part of this reaction, provided the attacker is within your weapon’s range. You can do this a number of times equal to your Charisma modifier, and regain all uses at the end of a Long Rest.

LEVEL 20 - PALADIN 16

But since it’s so close one final level in Paladin would be good for one final ASI: again more Constitution means more health and AC, but more Charisma will boost all your Paladin abilities!

Speaking of Paladin abilities you can prepare one more spell before we start taking more Barbarian levels... honestly you can pick your poison as it won’t matter much when your Raging!

...Wait.

WHY NO BARBARIAN LEVELS?

There’s a lot of things that I can’t do as a Barbarian. The most notable option that would be restricted if I went pure Barbarian would be Freedom of Movement, and while crowd control is somewhat rare in D&D being able to ignore it is far more important to Olaf as a character.

There’s also no Barbarian that has lifesteal besides Path of the Beast, and the only Barbarian that can throw its axe easily is Path of Wild Magic. Obviously neither of these fit Olaf.

Ultimately Paladin gave us more of Olaf’s abilities. The only ability that Barbarians have which fit Olaf other than Unarmored Defense and I guess Unarmored Movement would be Feral Instinct. But even the Barbarian subclasses don’t fit Olaf with the only ones which make any sense being maybe Totem Warrior? (Despite Olaf’s title Berserker wouldn’t fit him well, mostly because Berserker is a bad subclass.) But we miss out on so many of Olaf’s actual abilities by making him a Barbarian.

tl;dr Barbarians can’t do magic and Olaf has a ton of abilities that can only be recreated in D&D with magic

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Urge to kill rising... - Two-Weapon Fighting really doesn’t get the respect it deserves by the D&D community. You wouldn’t be able to get three attacks as a level 11 Paladin in any other way, meaning that you can truly capitalize on Improved Divine Smite. Not to mention the general increased DPS of 3 attacks and 3 chances to Smite!

Faster to battle! - It was not my intention but Glory Paladins are surprisingly good team players with a variety of spells and abilities that can keep your team alive and increase their strength in battle.

Obliteration! - You’re fairly hard to kill... oops. But between decently high health, spells to defend yourself, and damn high saving throws no matter how you increase your Charisma you’ll be quite a challenge to eventually take down! Sure your AC might suck... we should probably talk about that.

CONS

The worth of a man can be measured by the length of his beard, and the girth of his belt buckle - Hey remember that one Barbarian level I took pretty much entirely so you could have Unarmored Defense? Yeah honestly it’s gimping you hard, to the point that even Mage Armor would give you more AC. Honestly playing this build as Fighter 4 / Paladin 16 would be far better as you’d get one more ASI at the cost of actually having to wear armor. Hell going full Paladin 20 would give you the Living Legend capstone which is crazy strong, and while the loss of Action Surge would hurt you can grab the Thrown Weapon Fighting Style with a feat. (Or just take Two-Weapon Fighting style with your Variant Human Feat and run around with Hand Axes.)

If you’re really dead-set on going unarmored beg your DM for a Barrier Tattoo: either a Rare one (you’ll still need 14 DEX for something something legally-not-Medium Armor) or a Very Rare one (so you don’t even have to worry about Dexterity.) You can even go the Tahm Kench route and grab Eldritch Adept for Disguise Self to look unarmored if it’s really that important to you.

Well that was a pretty long con to say “Barbarian Olaf bad.” What else is there?

Chop chop! - Who would’ve guessed that dumping both mental stats would make you a dummy? While Aura of Protection saves you to some extent the party won’t be turning to you for any History checks.

Finally, some fun! - You have a rather silly amount of spells relative to your spell slots, and a good number of them are Concentration as well. Throwing all your slots to the wind to Divine Smite with reckless abandon sounds fun but managing both your Concentration and your spell slots will take some effort.

But your choice to go in without armor is just a self-handicap after all: you really want to die, and prove yourself in death! Fight the toughest fights and take down the strongest foes until you finally prove your prophecy wrong and fall before the blade of the mightiest foe! But perhaps you should instead sit down and have a muffin, and think about why you truly want to die die die.

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Hi, @pilotkinkade! No worries about a delay—real life and school are way more important than critical analysis of a cartoon, lol. I’m thankful you got back to me, though. I appreciate your response posted here—and no, it didn’t feel patronizing at all! I can see what you mean about things.

In terms of Wikipedia’s definition of white savior as a cinematic trope, I can see where that could be applied to the entirety of the VLD show as you mention, even in aspects to the Balmeran episode. In VLD, I do see how in every case, the largely unprepared MCs save a group of people and in doing so, usually learn something about themselves/achieve a power unlock that makes them personally stronger, especially compared to the people they assist/save, who remain without such power-ups. Or, in various other instances, Team Voltron is shown as “more enlightened” in ethics or willpower, etc. compared to the people groups they’re trying to save/convince to join their cause. That concern absolutely does make sense, and it’s definitely a problem that our paladins are placed on that kind of pedestal and that it’s...celebrated?

I also felt this line of yours in my soul, lol: “i think this is an issue with voltron: liberating a country, let alone a whole planet, is a long, tiring, bloody process. i guess voltron by its nature circumnavigates that, but. it is, to say the least, frustrating to watch.”

Yeahhh lol, I think in terms of how it handles war and heavy situations, VLD accepts a lot of “this isn’t realistic war/politics” moments by virtue of it being a Y7 cartoon? Its fantasy violence is targeted for, I guess, 7-year-old American boys... So, I think when we sensed those more adult themes and moments of realism, we wanted the show to naturally follow up on those struggles more, but I remember an interview where the dev team talked about having to cut politics because the stakeholders felt it was too adult for the target audience, RIP.

But just thinking about this larger conversation about the unsettling images and implications of VLD Voltron’s power as savior…I keep wondering if “savior complex” is in some way inherent to the franchise as a whole by virtue of how it was fitted to a young American audience back in 1984? Like, not only did the original pilots from 1981’s Beast King GoLion get white-washed for an American audience, but it seems like the whole story structure got some pretty major adjustments, and some characters got altered for better (I’d argue 1984 did humanize Lotor and other antagonistic aliens) or worse in various ways (the Voltron pilots became “foreigners” to the war they grew to fight in as the most powerful warriors, instead of the GoLion storyline of the pilots being a band of escaped slaves)…And that’s all on top of the original story being rated much higher at TV-14, while Voltron: Defender of the Universe 1984 was sanitized to Y7.

I wonder if these decisions in 1984 feed into the tangles and weird power structures/savior narrative we see in VLD?

I feel like the only Voltron iteration that really reflects on and questions the “powerful savior” narrative is the one that was rated for older audiences (16+), which is the Dynamite Comics (2011), written by Brandon Thomas...

It was perhaps one of the most innovative versions of Voltron, even though its artwork is criticized for its quality. I say innovative because Team Voltron actually recognizes that they and their machine have been fighting in the name of a corrupted Earth just interested in further conquest and corporate control of its own, and that Earth is actually no better than Zarkon or other despots. It’s a really sticky mess. So we really see Team Voltron try to disavow themselves from that past and their leaders, at the same time that the team and Drule Empire both are realizing that a far darker force (sentient rift creatures, basically) has been instigating the entire war across the universe, using Voltrons to carry out its will, and poisoning people against each other. In this iteration, team Voltron is not the most powerful, nor are they even the only Voltron. And anyone in this iteration could learn powerful magic. So it’s a really complex backstory that tries to unite long-standing opposing groups together under fairly equal powers. And while it’s clearly still got some problems, I really appreciate what writer Brandon Thomas was trying to do here. It feels like a critique on DotU 1984’s mentality around Voltron, while also reaching back to Voltron’s 1981 Beast King GoLion origins—in which, in that version, the pilots were actively victims of the war and had intense, personal reasons for further involving themselves to stop Zarkon.

VLD seems to lift a lot of plot points from the previous Dynamite Comics, along with GoLion. But in doing so, VLD seems to strip out a lot of involved backstory and the past gray morality of Voltron itself. Which seems to reverse the reboot back to its 1984 “yay we’re here to the save the universe” fluff.

An anon recently joined in on our discussion here to suggest that maybe the trope we’re looking for regarding Allura specifically is called “xenos savior trope”? Which appears to be in reference to the larger genre concept of a foreigner of any kind outside the group being the only one who can actually save the day/that group. So it seems to be related without necessarily taking on some of the criteria I suppose I apply to white savior complex specifically….

About Allura’s sort of “Chosen One” hyper-abilities even as an Altean… You’re right that the show isn’t terribly explicit about it. Episode 1 prefaces some of Allura’s powers by referencing that they exist because her life force is tied to Voltron. I talk about it in an old meta here if you’re interested. (I also have this other meta too, where I try to argue that seasons 1-5 have details suggesting Alteans aren’t inherently a master race, but that world-building contradicts the latter half of the show which hinges on that master race concept. But the meta itself also gets into the screenshots about Allura’s life-force tie and her abilities vs. Alfor’s.) 

Ultimately, the show certainly doesn’t take time after episode 1 to reiterate why Allura would be so special, but her tie to Voltron is the only thing I can think of for why she’s on such a different level even from Honerva or Alfor, both of whom also made it to Oriande. 

I keep thinking about what it would mean to fully update VLD for modern audiences, and I wonder how things would have felt if every major race involved in the war’s scope were still represented by the paladins (reflecting the s3 OG paladin diversity, which did feel really cool). And if everyone had magical abilities but simply that different cultures had different understandings or uses of it—but that they weren’t inherently incapable of learning another’s way. I wonder how much that would have changed VLD as a show…

[megatontiddies]

Your fallout OC as a companion taken from @goovat ask meme except I'm using it as a writing prompt/ oc development? I guess? because I think it's cool and I'm bored and want to write it all anyways

Anywhompst this is for Alwine and since it's pretty long (like really long you've been warned) I'll throw 'er under the cut

What perk would they give the player?

Occam's Laser

While Alwine is an active companion the player gets +40% damage with laser weapons and +25% headshot accuracy in VATS with scoped laser weapons. One shot kills produce 2X the XP.

How do you recruit them? are there multiple methods?

After the player levels past level 10, or alternatively, upon finding Paladin Danses Recon team Alwine will be found as a new recruit for the BOS. Once the player does the first two repeat quests by Haylen and Rhys and The Lost Patrol quest begins she is available to assist the player in the mission. After the mission is complete she may offer to follow the player as a companion if the player has chosen the more diplomatic speech options with Brandis and Danse. If the player chose the more aggressive/ rude options while speaking with the two then it will require a small speech check in order to be a companion.

What raises and lowers their affinity?

Raises: Minutemen/ Helping Settlement quests, Stealing from wealthy NPCs, BOS quests up until BB, Helping Anyone, Honorable Actions, Amicable Dialogue Choices (for the most part)

Lowers: Murdering innocents, Stealing From Settlers/ Not Well Off NPCs, Unnecessarily Rude Dialogue Options

How do they react to certain things? what do they say? (eg. lockpicking, grabbing junk, killing?)

Lockpicking:

(nostalgic/ thinking to self out loud/ amused) " Really coulda used a trick like that when I got locked outta my house that one time..."

(humorous/ surprised) " And here I was ready to blow 'er open"

(thinking to self out loud/ amused) " Hell o' a lot quieter than kickn' er open"

Grabbing Junk:

(blanket statement/ flatly) "it's amazing what you can build outta junk"

(enthusiastic/ bubbly) "It might be radioactive but if ya render it down with a bit ah castor oil it makes a great paint for glow sights"

(humorous/ matter of factly) "I'd rather carry 40 pounds ah junk than fork up an arm and a leg to buy the same shit later from Crazy Myrna"

Player Overencumbered:

(genuine concern) "If ya keep pickin' shit up you'll slip a disc"

(teasing/ amused/ worried) "Jeeesus look at yah! You look like a pack brahmin!"

(teasing/ amused) "With yer pack so stuffed if ya fall on yer face you'll never get up again"

Murder:

[Alwine Hated That]

(angry/ surprised) "What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

(angry/ confrontationally) "You better spit out a good reason for that and fast"

(angry/ bewildered) "Are you for real?"

notes: Alwines reaction to murder is exclusive to people she genuinely feels are innocent. She's comfortable with deaths she deems necessary (or if the person made themselves known as a pretty awful person).

Cannibalism:

[Alwine Disliked That]

(disgusted/ shocked) "oh? OH. Great, like there wasn't enough nightmare fuel out here"

(disgusted/ worried) "In't there, like, a brainworm or sumn' you can get from doin that?"

(disgusted but still attempting to be light hearted/ humorous) "Like it blue eh? I prefer mine rare... a lil less peopley too..."

Stealing in general:

[Alwine Disliked That]

(irritated) "Hope that wasn't somethin important"

(irritated) "Should I be sleeping with one eye open round you?"

(irritated) "Like people don't have enough shit to worry 'bout out here..."

Stealing/Pick Pocketing (but from wealthy/etc NPCs):

[Alwine Liked That]

(approving) "Lord knows they have more than nuff' to share"

(approving) "Doubt they'll even notice it's missing"

(approving/ musing aloud) "The unyielding greed and ignorance of the wealthy was the catalyst of Armageddon"

Pick Pocketing:

[Alwine Disliked That]

(surprised/irritated) "Why don't you spit in his eye while you're at it"

(irritated/ humorous) "I feel like I should put a cat bell on ya"

(irritated) ~audible scoff~ The player is likely being glowered at

Enemies Found:

(Shocked/ Excitably) "Y' ello!"

(loudly/ warning) "On yer flank!"

(loudly/ shocked) [weirdish sound presumably before lashing out a punch of hit of some form] " GWEHHK!"

Enemies Lost:

(quietly/ nervous) " shit... where'd you go you bastard"

(quietly/ nervous) " Lost 'em"

(quietly/ to self/ nervous) " I swear to lord if ya jump out at me..."

Enemies Killed:

(satisfied/ calmly) "good riddance to bad rubbish"

(loudly/ excitable) "Bingo!"

(quietly/ almost a whisper/ to self) [only if player is sneaking] "...bingo bango bongo..."

Player stops talking mid conversation:

(sympathetic/ lighthearted) "Sometimes I loose track of my thoughts too"

(genuine worry) "Ya good? Take yer time."

(humorous/ teasing) "Not a thought between those eyes is there?"

Player removes all garb:

(shocked but also amused/ between light laughs) "oh?"

(mindless banter/ avoidance) " This would probably be a good stun tactic if y'aint fraid of gettin yer tidbits shot"

(humorous/ almost scolding) "Y'aint invisible... just so ya know"

Player loots a corpse:

(plainly) "Any ammo?"

(joking/ light hearted) "Guess they won't be needing that anymore"

(statement/ plainly) "Grim business but you can find some good stuff sometimes."

Player starts swimming:

(plainly/ matter o factly) "Ain't no way I'm going in there"

(humorous but fear is present in voice) "If a big fish decides you look like lunch I ain't gonna be able to help ya"

(almost nostalgic/ sarcastic) "Yeah me and the brick tied for the swimming contest back in 63... I'll just stay on the shore"

Player jumps from high place:

(genuine concern) "ouch! you good?"

(soft yell/ concerned/ as if watching player fall) "aaAAaaa!?"

(oblivious to the player falling) "Where'd ya go?"

Do they periodically give the player items? what kind of items?

Bowls of various soups if player interacts between 5 and 9 PM. Every other time she'll give the player Fusion Cells.

Would they be able to do specialized task? (eg. repairs, hacking)

Not necessarily a task but if the player was to put various junk/ weapons in her inventory then she will periodically/ randomly mod them.

Would they be romancable?

Yeah probably? I think? In my AU she romances Paladin Danse but that would probably not be something that could happen as an NPC in Fallout 4 so??

If it were something like Mass Effect it would probably be like a Garrus/ Tali situation where if the player never romanced either characters then they would form a romance.

Do they have a unique outfit or weapon?

Alwine wears a black BOS jumpsuit for the first half of the game up until BB. After that she'll wear military fatigues. She'll wear the same over armor (BOS heavy armor) for both but after BB the BOS symbols are sanded off. It would be a unique unremovable armor set.

What would be their personal quest, if they have one?

This one is a bit weird since the player would be taking the role of the Sole Survivor. That being said I've always found that one empty cryo-chamber at the end of the vault hall interesting. There probably is a reason for that (like it just wasn't occupied or the occupant died before vault scientists had their spit) but for the sake of this AU/ prompt we'll say that she had a similar entrance to the vault as the sosu, bringing her babe into the vault and getting frozen with Kellogg snatchin both their children (this is lazy writing I know but I don't know how to write this without fundamentally changing her character). The only difference is that somehow maybe Alwine was released/ thawed earlier and got a bit of a head start. Because Alwine is no longer the sosu she wouldn't of encountered Preston at Concord and Codsworth likely either wouldn't of recognized her or simply acted like it was prewar and spoke to her only as if that was the same narrative giving her no sense to what was happening or how much time has elapsed. Alwine would of wandered out on her own and then stumbled onto Paladin Danses recon team and eventually got inducted in hopes of finding her child.

For her personal quest it would likely be trying to find evidence on what happened to her child. The quest would start with the player character going into the institute, and since companions can't follow the player there (minus X6), she would request that they find out what happened. After some digging the player will discover that Alwines child was killed in experimentation over 60 years ago in trials to make experimentation safer for 'father'. The player can bring this information back and Alwine will be devastated but grateful for the player finding this out for her. Despite being fairly amicable with the player she insists she needs time to grieve and that following the player is a cold reminder of the pain. Regardless of what the player says she parts ways with the player and goes back to the Prydwen and will idle there until the Liberty Reprimed quest where she will disappear from the map. Alwine will remain missing from the map until Blind Betrayal where she will be standing outside the bunker blocking Elder Maxon, as well as arguing with him, from entering the building. The player's choices will affect how Alwine responds.

- If the player executed Paladin Danse within the bunker then Alwine will become immediately hostile to the player. She will be forced to be killed by either the player or Maxon.

- If the player spares Danse then chooses to execute him when confronted by Maxon then Alwine will make it clear that she will not hesitate to become hostile to defend her friend. With a red speech check the player can convince her to stand down but she will be remorseful and refuse to follow the player afterwards and disappear off the map. Her body surrounded by a myriad of dead raiders will then be a random encounter while wandering the commonwealth. If the speech check is failed she will become hostile forcing the player, or Maxon, to execute her.

- If the player spares Danse then convinces Maxon to spare him then Alwine will express gratitude and her perk will become available. Unfortunately for Alwine her disobedience and willingness to become hostile towards the elder causes him to kick her out of the brotherhood. She will remain at the bunker with Danse until the player completes the quest and then upon the player returning Danse will disclose that she has gone to the Castle in order to join the Minutemen where she can be reobtained as a companion.

What are their opinions on certain factions? (eg. brotherhood, NCR)

Minutemen:

Genuinely believes that they have the best interests for the Commonwealth. Worries that they lack the men and firepower to take on the Institute or any other large faction that could pose a threat. This Worry is dissuaded after The Nuclear Option and her affirmation towards them only increases. With time, resources, and good leadership, Alwine believes they could become a major player even outside of the Commonwealth.

BOS:

At first is amazed by their technological advancements and firepower especially compared to the rest of the Commonwealth. The comradery is nostalgic and comforting for Alwine as it reminds her of her days in the US Military as a Power Armor Mechanic. After some time she realizes that they're a bit lost for direction grasping at straws for purpose and that their idea of "freeing the Commonwealth" might be misinformed well intention fueled by fear and dogma. When she was new to the commonwealth and didn't understand much about anything really the fearmongering and racism towards ghouls and synths were more tolerable (but still uncomfortable) it eventually become almost intolerable the longer she stayed and the more informed she became about the natures of both.

Railroad:

At first is weary of them. Alwine is careful around people who keep secrets and after spending so much time in the Brotherhood interacting with the Railroad pushes her hackles up. She does like how they work to help the synths, especially after BB, despite being mostly associated with the BOS. She becomes more comfortable after becoming more educated about synths, between the Railroad themselves informing her and the data collected by the player at the Institute itself, and eventually embraces the Railroad as a necessity after BB.

Gunners:

Heavily dislikes them. To her they're essentially just militarized raiders.

Institute:

Has a hate towards them that just strengthens over time. Their ignorance and misuse of technology is both a tragedy and crime. For the most part she pities them but strongly believes that their destruction is absolutely necessary.

Nuka World:

They're raiders so Alwine is pretty hostile towards them. Despite this their organization and brutality makes Alwine careful about making them enemies. If possible she would work to keep them out of the Commonwealth as much as possible or at the very least work to create some kind of truce of sorts to prevent a major confrontation (which would likely be devastating to both sides).

Atom Cats:

They remind her a lot of her friends prewar with the way they talk and their fondness for power armor. She likes them.

Children of Atom:

Alwine believes in freedom of belief as long as said belief does not infringe on the beliefs and freedoms of others. As long as they are respectful of herself and others she will act the same. Alwine is also a bit curious about them she would likely ask a bunch of questions if they allowed it. Other than that she would keep her distance, mostly due to the rads.

General voice lines? (in reaction to companion wheel selections)

Talk:

(friendly/ bubbly) "What's crackalacin"

(friendly/ inquisitive) "You okay?"

(spacy/ broken out of thought) "Hmm?"

Trade:

(friendly/ bubbly) "What's mine is yours"

(joking/ teasing) "finally got tired of carrying that junk eh?"

(joking within a genuine question) "Hey maybe I can carry the big guns instead of the junk for once....no? maybe?"

Follow:

(plain/ firm statement) "Got it"

(bubbly) "Comin!"

(bubbly/ softly) "Oke Doke"

Wait:

(plainly) "alrighty"

(plainly/ softly) "I'll just sit tight"

(masking nervousness through humor) "Don't leave me here too long... might forget what I'm waitin' for and wander off"

Where would you find them in the world?

She would be located at the Cambridge Police Station. Then later at the Castle.

Which game would they be from?

Fallout 4

Miscellaneous facts?

If the player puts alcohol in her inventory and the player gets 'drunk' she will match the player for drinks and her basic dialogue will be slurred for a short time after

Alwine will loot the entirety of corpses, clothes and all, when asked to loot bodies.

Alwine will periodically build weapon and armor mods which can be taken out of her inventory by the player

Alwine refuses to go in water and a hit box specifically for her prevents her from entering. This results in a glitch that has Alwine swimming in the air several feet above the water while the player is swimming.

If the player uses console commands to force Alwine into the water she will sink to the bottom similar to if she were wearing power armor. Note: This does not affect her health she will just idle at the waterbed.