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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

JC adopts stray/rouge cultivators after the war au to cope with the destruction of lotus pier. also i love your writing so much!!

Gratuitously Acquired - ao3

At first, he took anyone who would join, needing numbers – needing people. There were plenty of cultivators that wanted to be associated with a great sect. Plenty, too, that were barely more than criminals, wanting to use the smoke and ash of war to obscure the past, to cover up old crimes and wash themselves clean.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t in any position to refuse them. Soldiers were soldiers.

After the war ended, though…

Some he cast out. Others, even more despicable, he slaughtered for what they’d done.

A few –

“Yan Qiao.”

The female cultivator in question, who had been sneaking out of the still mostly ruined Lotus Pier at night in flagrant violation of curfew, froze in her tracks.

“Uh,” she said. “Sect Leader Jiang. Fancy finding you…here…now…at this time…”

Jiang Cheng looked at the basket of buns in her hands. “You’re stealing leftovers from our kitchens to feed orphans among the common people,” he said. “Again.”

She blushed. “No one wants them now that there’s better available, Sect Leader! Really, they’ll only go stale, and then rot – and I never stole when it was the army eating them!”

“That’s not the point,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “Tell me, how in the name of heavens did you really get branded as a criminal? Distributed too many alms? Did too much charity?”

Yan Qiao coughed, turning red. “I told you before, Sect Leader. I killed a man.”

“He must have done something particularly heinous, then. You’re shitat killing.”

“Now I am. Sect Leader, if you don’t mind…”

“You’re one of the ones who wants my surname, right?” he interrupted. “Consider it granted.”

Yan Qiao – no, he supposed he’d better start thinking of her as Jiang Qiao – gaped at him. “But…Sect Leader!”

“I’ve barely granted it to anyone, so you’d better live up to it, you hear me?” Jiang Cheng said in his best threatening voice. He’d been assured by several people that it was really quite threatening, anyway. “I don’t want any excuses. Now go feed your damn orphans, and in the morning I want a report on how you think we can do it in a more structured manner. I can’t have you sneaking off every night anymore! Now that you’re a Jiang, you’re going to have work.”

When they were done with war and started firmly on rebuilding, the Jiang sect’s name was firmly reestablished as a Great Sect once more, it was the opportunists that came.

Smiling faces, sycophantic voices, cowards one and all – like beetles crawling out of the woodwork, not willing to risk their lives, but willing enough to beg for scraps and advantages later on when it seemed safe enough to do so.

Jiang Cheng wanted to chase them all away, but his sect was still weaker than he wanted to admit, still rebuilding, still more army than civilian operation. They had valiant soldiers by the dozen, but they needed more than that. They needed administrators, supervisors, artisans, smiths, merchants, laundry-women…

They needed workers. The ones they got – well, cowards they might be, but skills they had.

He still rejected most of the worst of them.

Most.

“Bo Zhou,” he said, inspecting the surprisingly flush list of taxes they’d collected that quarter, and the man in question turned to grin unrepentantly at him. “You’d tell me if you were a con artist in a previous life, right?”

“A previous life, Sect Leader?” Bo Zhou said. He was still grinning, but then, he was always grinning. He had a crooked leg and an even more crooked heart, and he’d probably steal candy from little children if he happened to have a hankering, but he was amazing at getting people to do what he wanted. Too amazing, really. “Why limit yourself? What about thislife?”

“…Bo Zhou. Tell me you aren’t a former con artist.”

“I may or may not have had a sideline selling snake oil and protective talismans before I became a cultivator,” Bo Zhou admitted cheerfully, and Jiang Cheng pinched the bridge of his nose – less out of actual irritation and more to keep from actually laughing. The only person he knew that was more shameless than Bo Zhou was Wei Wuxian; he couldn’t wait to introduce them once Wei Wuxian stopped skulking around in wine shops long enough to get back to doing his job as Jiang Cheng’s head disciple and right hand. “Who would’ve known that making all those fake talismans ended up making me pretty good at making actual talismans when I became a cultivator? Really, who could have called that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Who taught you how to cultivate, anyway? Can I – I don’t know – seek vengeance on behalf of the rest of the world or something?”

Bo Zhou rolled his eyes right back at him. Shameless! “Is this about the taxes? Just be happy I got them all!”

“I can’t just be happy! What if this money is stolen property?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sect Leader. They’re what we shouldbe getting, and from all the right people. You told me this was the right amount yourself!”

“Yes, but no one ever actually pays the full amount!” Jiang Cheng enjoyed the way Bo Zhou’s jaw dropped. “I just wanted to see if you could actually do it.”

“I’m hurt at your lack of trust.” Bo Zhou paused, considering. “Also a little impressed at you for keeping a straight enough face to trick me. Well done, Sect Leader.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “You too, Jiang Zhou.”

“It’s Bo…” He trailed off, comprehension arriving and speech departing, and this time he didn’t have a quick retort. He’d been nagging Jiang Cheng on and off for the Jiang surname for the last few weeks, more joking than anything else – he knew that Jiang Cheng hadn’t given his surname to the vast majority of the new people in his sect, only the very few he thought were worth it.

Jiang Cheng enjoyed the newly dubbed Jiang Zhou’s moment of speechlessness thoroughly, since he was moderately sure he wasn’t going to get another one anytime in the next – ever, possibly.

“You proved your worth and your trustworthiness,” he said, patting Jiang Zhou on the shoulder. It occurred to him that he should probably come up with a courtesy name for the man, although he wasn’t sure the man would want one. “Also, congratulations, you’re now the person in charge of tax collection. See if you can think up some new thoughts about supplementing our income, will you? We have so many costs, and I don’t want to rely on Lanling Jin more than I can help it, not like Gusu Lan…”

“Oh, really?” Jiang Zhou interrupted, abruptly excited. “I have so many ideas! How ethical do you want to be about this?”

Jiang Cheng paused. “…very?”

“Be reasonable, Sect Leader!”

“…moderately?” he tried, a little more desperately.

“I can work with moderately. I don’t suppose you’d accept ‘thin and barely plausible veneer’?”

“No.”

“Oh well. Moderately ethical it is!”

Most of the Jiang sect was slaughtered during the attack on the Lotus Pier. Disciples Jiang Cheng had grown up with his whole life, had expected to see by his side in the future, his friends, his family, even his petty childhood enemies – all gone.

Well, not all gone. There were some Jiang disciples that had been away from Lotus Pier at the time, whether on some errand or a night-hunt or other reasons; they rushed back to his side as soon as they could, of course, and formed the core of Jiang Cheng’s new Jiang sect. When he’d felt utterly alone, when even Wei Wuxian was missing, they had been there for him. They’d preserved their lives and then they’d promised them to him, and it wasn’t until they knelt before him that he really felt like a Sect Leader.

There was no way he could give any of them up now.

“Jiang Meimei, you can’t go,” he said, having completely abandoned all shame in favor of clutching at her robes as if he were a child. “I need you!”

“I’m not even a proper Jiang disciple!” she exclaimed, exasperated – or possibly just annoyed that her grand plan to sneak out in the middle of the night had been stymied by his ambush. “Just because my surname is still Jiang doesn’t mean I didn’t get kicked out, remember?”

“I thought you just left,” Jiang Cheng said, temporarily distracted. “No one ever really talked much about it, actually, but to the extent anyone did, they said that you’d decided that your inclinations were more suited to being a rogue cultivator. That you didn’t want to be weighed down by sect expectations –”

“Hah!” Jiang Meimei tossed her head. “As if it wouldn’t be better to be a roving sect cultivator than a rogue cultivator! I won’t deny that I had a fair bit of wanderlust in my youth –”

“You’re only ten years older than me, you’re not that old.”

“Shut up, brat.”

“You can’t tell me to shut up, I’m your sect leader.”

“You’re my baby cousin is what you are, and, again, I’m actually not part of the Jiang sect!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng argued. “You’ve been at my side during the entire Sunshot Campaign.”

“I wasn’t going to let my baby cousin get himself murdered, now was I?” Jiang Meimei sniffed. “But I’m still a rogue cultivator. They kicked me out when I wouldn’t accept a marriage, and I’m still firm on that.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to be married? Really?” he asked, concerned. “But what about poor Liu Lingling? You shouldn’t be sleeping with her if you don’t intend to be serious about it! I’m pretty sure she’s just waiting for the current project you’re working on to finish to find a matchmaker to exchange birth characters –”

“They wanted me to marry a man,” Jiang Meimei clarified, but her habitual frown had eased considerably; she looked almost on the verge of a smile. “A-Cheng, you’re being dense again. You’re the Sect Leader of a Great Sect now. You know that that means you need to have alliances, marriage contacts with other sects, and that means using your subsidiary branches.”

“Jiang Meimei, you’re the one being dense,” Jiang Cheng said. “You think I’d force you into a marriage? I don’t have subsidiary branches. I barely have a sect, even after all this time. I’m not Wen Ruohan, handing out my surname to anyone who wants it – I only give it to the ones that matter, the ones I want to keep, and those of you that actually share my blood are even rarer, even more precious. How could I give you away?”

Jiang Meimei pursed her lips.

“I really do need you,” Jiang Cheng said quietly. “You weren’t part of the Jiang sect at all, not really, but you still came to help me – you were there from the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign, and you’ve never strayed, never left. You’re my right hand. I can’t do without you.”

Jiang Meimei turned her head away. “It’s not that I want to leave you,” she said. “But becoming a rogue cultivator was hard enough the first time. I couldn’t rely on any of the things that I had always had, everything always changing. I was young and angry then, I could handle it, but things are different now. I’m less flexible, less compromising, older, more tired – I can’t just walk out on a whim and just rough it anymore. I have a girl who, yes, I want to eventually marry; I want to have children. I need certainty. Are you going to give it to me?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands. He’d known it was going to have to come to this, but he’d been dragging his feet, not wanting to succumb to a reality that already existed. Had existed for longer than he wanted to admit, as if simply denying it would mean that it wasn’t the truth.

Like a child.

“Yes,” he said, though it tore his heart out of his chest to do it. “I will. Jiang Meimei…will you take the position of Head Disciple?”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t coming back. Jiang Cheng had already cast him out of the sect, just like Jiang Meimei had been, except in Wei Wuxian’s case it had been something that Wei Wuxian himself had demanded. He was living in Yiling now, and by all reports was quite happy there with his little Wen sect family that he’d picked over Jiang Cheng and all his family.

He was never coming back.

It was time to move on.

“Yes,” she said, and shoved her pack into his chest. “Now go unpack that for me. Consider it payment for driving me to extreme measures!”

“I’m your sect leader, you know,” he grumbled. “Officially, now. You could show me some respect.”

“Would you rather pay for my wedding down the line?”

“I’m going, I’m going!” And then, as he scurried over away, he shouted over his shoulder: “As if I wouldn’t be paying for it anyway! You think my Head Disciple’s going to be married in anything other than top style? Better start planning…”

“Don’t rush me! Brat!”

Jin Ling wasn’t surnamed Jiang, but he was the most important person in all of the Lotus Pier – and Jiang Cheng wanted to make sure everyone knew it. It hadn’t been easy for him to get the chance to help care for Jin Ling, especially here, so far away from home; Jiang Cheng had expected to barely be allowed to visit, to have to cool his heels outside of Lanling City begging just for a glimpse of him. Being able to take him home to raise for half the year, even if it was due to the dangerous infighting amongst Lanling Jin, was more than he’d ever dreamed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t clear that Jin Ling himself agreed.

“He’s still crying,” Jiang Cheng muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Surely he’s got to stop sometime? I mean, just – physically?”

“They say a boy resembles his mother’s brother,” Jiang Meimei said, echoing the gesture. “If he’s got your lungs and stamina, Sect Leader, we’re doomed.”

“I’m rethinking the whole having children thing,” Liu Lingling said blearily, having fallen asleep on her soon-to-be wife’s shoulder several times, only to be woken up by the next round of crying. “I need sleep.”

“Go get some, both of you,” Jiang Cheng ordered. When his cousin scowled at him, he scowled back. “I’m serious. If he keeps this up, we’re going to need to go into shifts. I can last a bit longer.”

“That’s a filthy lie.”

“It is not. Your sect leader has given you an order – get to it!”

It was a filthy lie.

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes when the crink in his neck grew too irritating to ignore, at which point he realized he’d been asleep – and, more importantly, that Jin Ling was somehow not crying.

He sat up with a start, suddenly terrified: had something happened to him? Had he been silenced forever? Had Jiang Cheng failed this one last duty he had to his sister?

“Shhh, little one,” someone was whispering, not far away. “Let me tell you the one about the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd, yeah? You seem like someone who’d appreciate stars. It all started –”

Jiang Cheng went to go look.

A teenage girl was rocking Jin Ling in her arms and telling him a story in murmured tones, and Jin Ling was yawning and trying to gnaw on her shirt. She wasn’t even a cultivator, as far as Jiang Cheng could tell. Her clothing suggested some level of poverty, her accent the countryside – how’d she even end up here?

He wasn’t sure he cared.

Jiang Cheng didn’t want to disturb her, but he did anyway; a shift of his weight, a scuffling of his feet, and the floor creaked. The girl jumped, startled, but luckily Jin Ling was already most of the way asleep and just grumbled a little instead of starting to screech.

“How’d you do that?” Jiang Cheng asked, nodding at Jin Ling. “Make him stop crying.”

“My mother had seven kids after me,” the girl said, answering automatically. “And her sister had six. Someone had to learn to deal with all those babies, and it ended up being me. Think it’s just habit after this long.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t handle one baby. He couldn’t even imagine.

That’s when the girl seemed to remember herself, and bit her lip. “Uh, sorry,” she said, hanging her head. “I heard him crying and I couldn’t resist...I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be here. It was an accident.”

“How did you get here?” Jiang Cheng asked, because accidental or not, a security breach was still a security breach. “And who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s A-Hua. I’m here to work in the kitchens, just got hired this morning; the fourth cook is my uncle’s wife’s cousin, she got me a job, said it was a good place to start – I was trying to find my way out so I could go to the servant’s quarters to get some sleep, but then I got lost…”

More likely she’d decided it was better to try to stay somewhere indoors than go out in the pouring rain to try to find her way to the right set of quarters, Jiang Cheng thought to himself. “Give me your hand.”

“Uh. What?”

He ignored her stare, took her hand and felt her pulse. There was a little bit of natural talent there, though not much; she might, if she tried hard enough, become a cultivator, but she’d never be more than a servant.

Unless, of course, she did something unusual to impress someone.

“Forget the kitchens,” Jiang Cheng told her. “You’re hired on a provisional basis to keep an eye on Jin Ling.”

The girl nodded, eyes wide as saucers. “Can you – do that?”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can. What’s your surname? You can’t go around being called A-Hua, we have at least seven people that I know of that go by that name.”

The girl looked distressed.

She probably didn’t have a proper surname. Some people in the countryside didn’t.

But they really couldn’t go around shouting “A-Hua” every time Jin Ling was crying, which was basically all the time.

“Fine,” he said, giving in. “Do well, and I’ll consider letting you use mine. But only if you do well!”

Jiang Cheng was covered in mud thanks to a successful-but-at-what-cost night hunt and angry about it, stomping around the lotus pools on his way back to town, when he heard the familiar sounds of someone having a panic attack.

He slowed, involuntarily, and took a look: it was some teenager dressed in black, heaving miserably by a tree.

Jiang Meimei had once said that Jiang Cheng was a bit weak when it came to teenagers.

Jiang Cheng said that was nonsense.

Jiang Hua chimed in, quite loyally (if perhaps not with the best timing), and said he wasn’t.

Jiang Cheng yielded the argument at once to keep Jiang Meimei from laughing herself sick.

In view of that, he was better off ignoring the kid. After all, what was it to him that some kid was having a fit of anxiety right next the same old lotus pool that he used to have his own teenage fits of anxiety next to, under the shade of the same old tree that had sheltered him – one of the few places that remained untouched by the Wen sect’s aggression, one of the few places that was exactly the same?

Jiang Cheng groaned and walked over. “Okay, fine. What’s your problem?”

The kid looked up at him. He had dark circles under his eyes. “I think my heart’s about to explode.”

“That’s just the anxiety,” Jiang Cheng said, and sat down next to him. “What’s causing the anxiety? Don’t say that someone is better than you and your parents are disappointed in you.”

“What?” the kid blinked. “No, it’s not – it’s not that. I’m about to screw up the very first job I ever got.”

Jiang Cheng considered that. It was just different enough from his own issues that he didn’t suspect a plot, and yet close enough that he might actually be able to offer some expertise.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked reluctantly.

“Not to some mud-man,” the kid said, and – hey! It wasn’t that bad. He thought, anyway. Actually, it probably was that bad. “I just…I’m the only one left. I have to make something of myself!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched. “What do you mean, you’re the only one left?”

The kid stuttered through his story. It wasn’t as bad as Jiang Cheng had initially feared, but it was still pretty bad – his small village had had bad harvests, and there had been starvation, a bad winter; the kid had been sent out to get help, but it had taken too long and he’d arrived back to find them all already gone. He’d been lost, but some traveling cultivator had agreed to take him on as a disciple provided he proved himself, had taught him all sorts of skills, cultivation and talisman-writing and music –

“Music?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Not the sword?”

“There was only the one,” the kid explained. “Obviously he kept it for himself.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t think much of that – surely this cultivator, whoever he ws, could have shared, just long enough to teach? – but he didn’t comment. It seemed fairly clear that the kid didn’t actually think very highly of his teacher, although he was very earnestly trying to be appropriately filial.

It was a little cute.

“…and I was supposed to wait here for someone when they came by here, some fancy rich person, and then get them to follow me, but it’s been ages and no one’s come by at all!” the kid wailed. “I’m such a screw up!”

“You don’t even know who you’re waiting for?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the kid shook his head. “How were you supposed to get them to follow you, then?”

The kid scratched his nose. “My master said that if I showed off some of my cultivation, they’d follow me right away.”

Jiang Cheng suppressed a smirk. “It must be very impressive cultivation, then.”

“…not really. I only know one trick,” the kid admitted. “But it’s not that hard, and it looks impressive – here, see, wait; give me a second, I just need to whistle –”

Zidian crackled to life on Jiang Cheng’s finger before the kid finished the first stanza.

“Stop that!” he cried out, leaping to his feet, and – startled – the kid stopped, blinking owlishly at him. “Is that what your master taught you?!”

“Yes?” the kid said. “Did I do it wrong?”

Jiang Cheng gnashed his teeth. “That’s demonic cultivation. Never do that, okay? Ever.”

“But then how am I supposed to get the fancy rich person to follow me, assuming he ever showed?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. If he hadn’t tripped over that branch and fallen into the mud – if he hadn’t taken an extra half-shichen to struggle out of the mire – if he’d walked by in all his usual finery, rich person that he was, and seen some kid practicing demonic cultivation…

He’d have given chase in a heartbeat.

More to the point, everyone knew he would. His reputation had been pretty much set in stone by this point.

“Let’s go find that master of yours,” he said. “Right now.”

Of course, that ended up leading Jiang Cheng straight into the bastard’s trap, which would have been a problem except that he’d taken the time to send someone to tell Jiang Qiao, who’d been waiting for him back in town, that he’d be a bit late and not to worry, just wait where she was.

She’d ignored his instructions and arrived just in time to knife the demonic cultivator – a human trafficker whose operations Jiang Cheng had shut down with extreme viciousness only a few months before – right in the belly, gutting him like a fish in a swift easy motion.

“I think I’m getting the hang of it again,” she said, smiling at the knife, and Jiang Cheng made a mental note to ask exactly how manymen she’d killed to get that criminal brand of hers, except the poor kid was sinking down to his knees with a horrified look and, shit, that horrible bastard, evil as he might have been, was probably the last person the kid had in this whole rotten world, wasn’t he?

“Does Jiang Hua still have those beginner manuals we dug up for her?” Jiang Cheng asked, and Jiang Qiao nodded. “Good. Tell her that starting today, Jiang Jianwen here’s her little brother. She’s been pining over raising someone ever since Jin Ling got to be too old to snuggle.”

The kid looked up with wide eyes.

“No, you don’t get a choice on the name,” Jiang Cheng told him. “Whatever name this piece of crap gave you, just forget it, you hear me? You can do better than him. But no more demonic cultivation!”

“I wish I could visit the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian mumbled, looking wistfully downriver. They were very close by, but he still didn’t dare, even though Jiang Cheng had grumpily extended an invitation through Jin Ling. So much had happened – he just didn’t know where to even start.

He didn’t want to get into all that messy history with Jiang Cheng.

He just wanted to visit, that’s all.

He missed Jiang Cheng, but he missed the Lotus Pier, too. The food, the places, the air…

“I just need a secret way in that even the sect leader doesn’t know about,” he sighed. He’d once known them all – but there was a different sect leader now, and a different Lotus Pier. He couldn’t risk it: Jiang Cheng might find out that he’d snuck in and feel hurt, thinking that Wei Wuxian was avoiding him, when he was just avoiding the conversation; that would just make everything worse.

Lan Wangji would have distracted him, but Lan Wangji himself had been distracted – some man in Jiang sect colors with a heavy limp and an excited sort of air had rushed over, shouting something about wanting to talk about tax policy and possibly also games of chance, and Lan Wangji had all but fled. It had been so funny that Wei Wuxian had nearly laughed himself sick.

“I know one,” someone said, and Wei Wuxian glanced over: it was a young man in Jiang sect disciple robes, little more than a teenager – only a few years older than Jin Ling, if he had to guess. He was smiling, ducking his head a little; he looked proud of himself. “I mean, if you really want. But only if you don’t mean any harm!”

How adorable, Wei Wuxian thought, and grinned at him. “I just want something spicy without having to go through the whole process of greeting people, is that a crime?”

“Not at all!” the kid exclaimed, beaming, and Wei Wuxian almost felt bad for conning him. Almost.

“Do you really know a secret way in?” he asked, pretending to be doubtful. “Really?”

Sure enough, the kid – Jiang Jianwen, apparently, he must be the kid of one of the ones that survived the massacre – was easily lured into insisting that he did know, and then to agreeing to act as guide.

And, moreover, it turned out he really did know his way inside, which made this the easiest infiltration ever.

Or so Wei Wuxian thought right up until he felt a knife point touch his ribs.

“Well done, Jianwen!” a young woman – also in Jiang colors – said, reaching out and ruffling Jiang Jianwen’s hair.

“Aw, it was nothing,” he said, just as bashful as he was when he’d been talking to Wei Wuxian. “I couldn’t have done it without shixiong luring off Lan-er-gongzi.”

Wait, that’d been part of this, too?

That was worrisome.

“Hardly nothing,” the older woman standing behind Wei Wuxian said. She had a certain sort of rock-hard steadiness that was more worrying than the knife she was holding on him – she was a powerful cultivator, familiar with killing and scarred with a criminal’s brand, and yet she seemed entirely at ease in a way that suggested a strong sense of righteousness, with no guilt or weak points he might exploit to make an easy out. “You successfully conned the Yiling Patriarch into following you right into a trap.”

Wei Wuxian wondered if he could deny it.

“I don’t know, shijie, that doesn’t seem that hard,” the first woman said. “Isn’t he the kind of person to run head-first into danger at the first instance?”

“Head-first into danger, and like his tail’s on fire away from dogs,” the older woman agreed, and – damnit. There was clearly no denying it; they actually knew him. Though from where, he had no idea. “A-Hua, Jiangwen, let’s go – we don’t want to be late for our meeting.”

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to tell me who we’re going to go see?” Wei Wuxian tried, putting on his most charming smile. “Or, perhaps, who you are, and what you have against me…?”

“Jiang Jianwen you know,” the woman said, rather unexpectedly. “I’m Jiang Qiao, and this is Jiang Hua. Our shixiong is Jiang Zhou – he’s the one that makes Lan-er-gongzi lose his wallet every time he’s forced to visit Yunmeng.”

Wei Wuxian was almost distracted with the tantalizing prospects of stories about Lan Wangji. Almost.

“You’re all surnamed Jiang?” he asked, surprised: he might have believed it for Jiang Jianwen, maybe, he was young enough to be the son of someone in the last generation. But Jiang Hua and Jiang Qiao looked absolutely nothing alike either to each other or to Jiang Cheng, and at least Jiang Qiao was old enough that he should’ve recognized her if she’d been a Jiang. There’d been a lot of people in the old Jiang sect, even if you limited it to those surnamed Jiang, but he’d been Head Disciple back then – he’d known almost all of them.

“We’re adopted,” Jiang Jianwen said. He looked very proud. “Sect Leader Jiang took us into the family as part of the branch lines.”

Wei Wuxian had never once in his life wanted to have the surname Jiang, not even when he’d been mocked for not having it. He’d never even thought about it. Not ever.

He felt a stab of envy at the word family, though.

“He gave you his surname?” he asked, and tried not to feel jealous when they all nodded. “Oh.”

It made sense, he tried to tell himself as they walked through the back streets of the Lotus Pier. The Jiang sect had been demolished, and Jiang Cheng practically the only survivor but for whoever happened by coincidence to not be at home – the Jiang sect would need branch family members, and adoption made sense. There was no reason to resent the idea of Jiang Cheng giving the name he had always treated as being so precious to a branded former criminal, to a con man, to a commoner from the countryside, to a –

“You were a what?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

“A demonic cultivator,” Jiang Jianwen said bashfully. “Not a very a good one, though.”

Wei Wuxian wanted to say something to that. He didn’t know what, but something.

“Enough chatter,” Jiang Qiao said. “We’re here.”

Jiang Hua opened the door and Wei Wuxian stepped inside.

Then he tried to step back out, only to be crowded in by the others.

“No, no, no,” he said. “No, I was willing to play along until now, but this is a step too far. You don’t understand! She’s going to eviscerate me!”

Jiang Meimei – older than the teenager he remembered her being when she left the sect, but still unmistakable – grinned with her teeth bared.

“Oh good,” she said. “At least your brain is still working. Now come on and have a seat, and we’re going to talk about how you’ve been treating my baby cousin recently…”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #original characters #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #gratuitously acquired

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knifetoxgunfight · 3 years

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Holy Ground

Word Count: 958 Requested: No Genre: Fluff, Minor angst Pairing: Sambucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes) Warnings: Mentions of trauma

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I was reminiscing just the other day

While having coffee all alone and Lord, it took me away

Back to a first-glance feeling on New York time

Back when you fit in my poems like a perfect rhyme

Bucky sat on the balcony of their shared apartment with a cup of coffee in his hands. The coffee didn’t do anything for him, his supersoldier system burned through the caffeine too fast. He just mildly enjoyed the taste and the false sense of normality. Thoughts of him and Sam’s first meeting raced through his head. It was rather chaotic. It involved a mission of murder, and almost killing Sam in the process. Sam would’ve been collateral damage. He hadn’t known himself back then. Everyone else seemed to know him, but Bucky barely knew himself. The media took the news of the Winter Soldier and ran with it. He was everywhere.

Took off faster than a green light, go

Hey, skip the conversation and you already know

I left a note on the door with a joke we'd made

And that was the first day

Their relationship started as a friendship, and it started quickly. So quickly that Bucky barely remembers how it happened. Probably through Steve. As their relationship blossomed, so did their inside jokes. Jokes were a stretch, rather reasons they teased each other. Nicknames that would be seen as insulting coming from anyone else. In fact, if anyone else spoke to them as they spoke to each other there was a nightmare to be had. They shared memories of those times long ago, the ones Bucky wasn’t proud of. Yet somehow, through the mess, meeting Sam introduced memories of love, acceptance, and laughter. Since day one. And that was only the beginning.

And darling, it was good

Never looking down

And right there where we stood

Was holy ground

Sam made his way onto the balcony, Bucky standing to greet him. Years ago, Bucky might have glanced off to make sure no one was watching, to hide from prying eyes. He felt as if dating the Winter Soldier was something Sam should be ashamed of. He thought they needed to hide their relationship for the sake of Sam’s reputation. Afterall, Bucky was known as a mass murderer and trained assassin. That didn’t exactly scream boyfriend material. Not to mention the fact that they were gay, something that was beyond taboo in the 40s. He felt no need to hide anymore. When they were together, Bucky felt as if no one else existed. He didn’t need anyone else to exist, only Sam. It was perfect, something worth preserving and protecting.

Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress

We had this big wide city all to ourselves

We blocked the noise with the sound of 'I need you'

And for the first time I had something to lose

New York City was something of a wonder to Bucky. Sure, he had grown up there, but it was nothing like his childhood. Times had changed, it wasn’t the 40s anymore. He and Sam always found something new to explore, some new path to take. There was always something neither of them had seen before. There was an adventure every day; Some new sight to see or shop to explore. They still had their “superhero duties,” but somehow all of the noise was drowned out with their love. They could forget about it for a while when they were together. The trauma, the stress, the image they needed to uphold all melted away. It became background noise. Bucky finally had someone to call his own. Someone to hold on to, to love. He had a reason to take care of himself, to keep himself alive and safe.

And I guess we fell apart in the usual way

And the story's got dust on every page

But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now

And I see your face in every crowd

There were times when Bucky’s trauma took over. When he felt he needed to be alone. He’d shut Sam out, an attempt to punish himself for all the wrong he had done. But also as a way to protect Sam. He didn’t trust himself, he would never consciously hurt Sam and didn’t want to risk an accident. Even when he was alone, he couldn’t help but see Sam everywhere. He couldn’t help but wonder how he was, what he was doing. Did he even miss Bucky when he was gone? His story felt old, something of the past. 106 years was a long time to live, let alone continue living for many years. Every page felt like it was covered in a film of dust, much of it was foggy and hard to tell what was real, yet the memories he made with Sam were pristine. They were perfect.

Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through

But I don't wanna dance, if I'm not dancing with you

Tonight I'm gonna dance, like you were in this room

But I don't wanna dance, if I'm not dancing with you

Placing his phone on the small table on that balcony, a song began playing through the speaker. Their song. Sam took Bucky’s hands in his own, pulling him close, and they danced. Together. They swayed together, listening to the song that described the story of their romance. At that moment, all of the hardships, everything they had been through disappeared. It was just them, intertwined together, a soft song playing behind them. It was perfect. Both men had soft smiles covering their visages, the noise of the world below all fading away. All of Bucky’s wildest dreams had come true, even some he never thought could exist. He didn’t want to do anything anymore if it wasn’t with Sam.

I don’t wanna dance, if I’m not dancing with you.

#sambucky #sambucky fluff #sam x bucky #sam wilson x bucky barnes #sambucky angst #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #song fics #holy ground #knifetoxgunfight

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Text

Fool Me Thrice

Hey guys! My three day spoiler free band is up so now you guys get to see what I did immediately after that new video (FwSA) came out!

Summary: The aftermath of FwSA but Virgil was actually Janus in disguise the whole time. (featuring: Janus breaking down to tears and Roman being really confused.)

Word Count: 4734

Quick Taglist:@alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

“DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX!” Janus yells, but the incessant bubbling in his stomach causes the edges of his lips to quirk up anyway. It’s a ridiculous, intoxicating feeling, and it’s curling around his insides like a snake coiling around its prey. He wants to smile. He wants to jump. He wants to sing.

But Virgil doesn’t do any of those things unless under threat and pressure and Janus has to keep-- he’s still pretending-- Janus is impersonating Virgil.

He’s not doing a very good job of it, and he knows. Ever since that stranger at the food court, that stranger who might be gay, that stranger whose name is Nico Flores and happens to write songs-- Ever since Nico uttered those silly, little words, and Thomas’s Heart and Creativity had swamped the controls, the more….intellectual sides were finding it hard to….think.

Everything’s fuzzy and blurry and Janus keeps trying to hit back that buzzing between his ears that comes every time that Roman and Patton team up and get lost in their contagious excitement. Virgil, certainly, is probably docile by now, flooded with the warm feelings that make it hard to panic over anything for at least another hour because he’s too busy riding that high of the “honeymoon” phase of dating-- before he remembers that it's possible that Nico might be a Serial Killer who lures his victims into relationships before slicing their throats and hiding their bodies in the woods.

He doubts that Logan’s having fun either: he hadn’t even bothered to show up when they had first spotted Nico across the cafeteria, not even to throw out that suggestion of saying “I see from your stickers we have similar interests. Let us discuss the possibility of future copulation now.” Which, of course, spells all sorts of troubles that Janus is going to have to fix later.

Later which seems to be now, because Thomas is jittery from the excitement flowing off of Roman and Patton and he is going to text Joan all about it which requires none of Janus-Virgil’s help.

It’s a flawless escape. Janus smiles inwardly, at the gooey feeling of pride in his stomach. He did it! One whole video, completely undercover!

It figures that Virgil would be the key.

Of all of them...well, Janus has always known Virgil the best. Anxiety and Self Preservation have gone hand in hand since Thomas was in diapers still. Janus grew up watching the curve of Virgil’s tense shoulders, watching the flickering of his eyes watching the entry points of the room, watching Virgil’s smirk curl and his eyeshadow bloom and--

And Janus knows Virgil hates him right now, even underneath the gooey layer of good feelings Patton is pumping through all of the Thomasphere. Janus even thinks that if he pops in to check on the little ball of nerves, Virgil will come back to his senses and start a murderous rampage on his way to stop Janus from ever impersonating any of them ever again. Which is definitely what Thomas needs right now.

Whatever. He can celebrate his victory privately.

Thomas is happy. That’s all that matters right now. The rest can wait until the good emotions in Thomas calm down and Janus can think clearly again: he’ll get out his fermented grape juice and pour it in a glass so he can feel fancy and then he’ll figure out how to deal with Logan, listen to Patton’s emotional-gushing-that-ends-in-overwhelmed-tears, entertain the Duke’s R rated fantasies with a polite smile, congratulate the Prince for his victory, and then after all that he’ll send Virgil a card via messenger dove to thank him for his...bravery.

And then he’ll go to sleep for two hours, and hopefully when he wakes back up Thomas will not be on fire.

That’s… that’s a reasonable hope, right? He’s not asking too much of the other idiot sides, right?

The buzz between his eyes sharpens for a second, as Thomas shakes his hands some more, with a grin that Janus would absolutely die for. It's almost regrettable because if anyone took a moment to look at him, to look at the way he looks at Thomas, they would see immediately what his weakness is: Janus is Self Preservation, Self Importance, Self, self, self.

He’s weak for Thomas’s smile. The gut force that drives Virgil to do things is protection, so he tries to make Thomas recognize everything as a threat; for Roman its creation, so he tries to push Thomas to achieve all of his dreams. For Janus it's Thomas’s id wants, so he does whatever it takes to keep him happy.

A smile on Thomas’s face means that Janus is doing good, that he’s doing right by Thomas. Who cares if in the end he’s the villain of the story? Who cares about him when there’s Thomas?

Thomas thanks him again-- actually he thanks Virgil, but Janus' face flushes anyway. The feeling in his stomach washes over him, leaving his knees weak and his lips smiling. Is this what being giddy is? He suddenly understands, suddenly, why Patton subscribes to that whole “Thomas is morally and objectively the best” philosophy; It’s a nice feeling, even if it makes it hard for Janus to concentrate on keeping Virgil’s eyeshadow the right color.

Thomas rushes by him-- almost close enough to touch again and wow Janus’ hands were still tingling from that; He forgot that Virgil was always able to touch their host-- and runs up the stairs to go scream in a pillow and text Joan the brilliant news and Janus takes that as his cue.

Time to wrap it up and go. (to sleep. Oh god, he can hear his bed calling for him already.)

But when he turns back to the last side in the room, Roman is pressing his knuckles to his lips and staring at the blinds in Thomas’s living room like he can set them on fire with his mind.

“Princey?” Janus asks, his own smile slipping. “What’s up?”

Roman snaps over to look at him-- to look at Virgil, whom he trusts and likes and appreciates and who is definitely not Janus at all. Despite that, the way that Roman is looking at him with furrowed eyebrows that would sing of a scowl if Patton had been doing his job just slightly not as well as he is currently, forces Janus to check to make sure he’s still wearing Virgil’s appearance.

“I can’t figure it out,” Roman says, looking like he just caught his best friends in the middle of decorating for his surprise birthday party. “Why?”

Janus squeezes his eyes closed trying to focus on what Roman was talking about. He knows that he missed at least one thing that was said in the hullabaloo all day, but he didn’t think it was something that Roman of all sides would be upset about. Why, what? Roman got the guy. What was so complicated about that?

Actually asking why is more on brand for Virgil.

For a ridiculous second Janus wonders if that was Virgil wearing Roman’s outfit and pretending to be him the way that Janus was pretending to be Virgil. But Janus is decently sure that Virgil can’t resist insulting Janus for more than five seconds at a time, and they’ve been side by side for hours now.

(And hadn’t that been nice? If Janus had just closed his eyes, he could have imagined the grateful smile Roman had given Virgil had been meant for him.)

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Ro,” Janus shrugs. “But I’m gonna go. All these good emotions are like...disgusting.” He sticks out his tongue that way that he’s seen Virgil do every time that Thomas has to eat the carrots his mom put on his plate just to sell the act, but Roman’s jaw sets.

“Why did you do that?” Roman bursts out before Janus can get all the way out, “Why? Janus!”

Janus should have run then, should have pretended that Virgil hadn’t heard him at all and let the other sides argue with each other, but his name is so new and shiny and no one ever uses it. The words vibrate through the air like needles and the next thing he knows is that he’s pinned in place, frozen, and Roman is looking very not-happy anymore.

Ha, so he knew. Looks like Janus can’t get through a video without being outed.

“I know it's you, you slimy snake,” Roman says. “Will you stop wearing Virgil’s face already! I want an answer!”

Janus’s tongue flicks in his mouth, rolling over the back of his teeth as he tries to think of the best way to handle this when all of his thoughts have to process through the molasses that is the gooey happiness Thomas is feeling and his own exhaustion.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Janus says, as blase as he can make it.

Which is….maybe not his best idea. The buzzing in his head makes the rest of the room go blurry for a second, in and out of focus and it’s so very helpful.

Roman’s face goes red, stuck somewhere between being angry and being insulted. He reaches out and Janus’ legs do that thing where they don’t work so when he throws his weight back, away, out of reach, his body goes plummeting to the foot of the stairs as well.

Roman yelps, leaning forward for a moment maybe with the intent to help him back up but Janus throws up a hand to stop him before he knows for sure. His eyelids are heavy, he realizes, and he’s tired and he really doesn’t want to have a fight with Roman right now.

“I had fun, Roman. Thank you for the... entertainment this evening.” He says, dropping the last of his stellar Virgil impression. He wonders how long he had Roman fooled, if he had him fooled at all for any point. Does he dare wonder how many of those smiles were given knowing that it was Deceit in disguise?

(He doesn’t and he resents the implication that he cares what the others think of him.)

“Congrats on wooing the boy or whatever.” Janus climbs back up to his feet and brushes imaginary dust off his tunic. Or it could be real. He’s not sure considering that he’s so tired he can’t see anything in front of him.

“You fiend!” Roman snarls, “What did you do to our Stormcloud?”

“Why don’t you go find out?”Janus suggests, with a half-assed flourish, even by his own standards, “Or better yet, don’t. In the meantime, I’ll be in my room.”

But Roman snags his arm and holds him up and Janus is acutely aware that sinking out with another side is troublesome and takes so, so much focus and energy. (And Romans touch is scalding. It’s burning. It’s white hot and Janus wasn’t aware he had been freezing before.)

“I’m tired of this game, Snakes and Ladders!” Roman says. “Tired of not knowing what you’re up to! Tired of not knowing what Thomas wants! Tired of getting backseat to self care and morality and-- and I’m Tired, Janus! Why do you keep doing this to me?!”

And hooooooo, does that strike something in Janus! The soft feelings in his chest burn right up in an anger he hadn’t even known he had been feeling. But it must have been there for a while because it boils right through him, leaving his chest smoldering and his mouth tasting like ashes.

“You think you’re tired?” He snaps, burns, blazes. There’s something in this throat, and it makes every word catch fire when it comes out of his mouth. And even Roman has enough sense to know that fire is dangerous and that he’s going to be cremated if he doesn’t step back.

“You think you’re tired,” Janus repeats, taking a step forward so that they’re nearly toe-to-toe and he can see the way that Roman’s Adam's apple bobs. “What about me, Roman? Don’t you think I’m tired? That I’m exhausted? That I know I’m going to have to sink back down and figure out what is wrong with Logan and listen to Patton and keep Remus busy and make sure that none of you morons overpower the others and drive Thomas directly into the ground? That I haven’t slept a full night since the whole start of these videos and moral dilemmas and whatever else? Every time I turn around Thomas is making another lie: to his friends, to his family, to himself! Don’t you think that I… that I…”

Roman is staring at him.

Janus’s head pounds. The room around him sways and he thinks that maybe...maybe the reason he can’t think straight right now doesn’t actually have anything to do with Patton’s elation keeping Thomas busy.

“Oh,” Janus says because he blinked and now he’s on the floor.

He blinks again and Roman is right next to him, looking concerned-- how ridiculous. Roman being concerned for him. Ha.

“Janus…” Roman’s voice is low, which makes Janus aware suddenly that everything else had been so loud all this time. He grits his teeth when Roman waves a hand and magics up… what are those, tissues? Why would he--

Oh.

Janus is crying. He reaches a hand up tentatively rubbing away the tears, and has to swallow a laugh. Oh, he's crying. When was the last time he cried? When was the last time he cried in front of someone else?

He's so, so tired. And that's the reason-- the only reason, mind you-- that when Roman scooches closer, a centimeter, an inch, a foot, and then rests his hand on Janus' shoulder, Janus doesn't push him off and immediately sink out to his room. It takes too much energy to lock a room, even his, from the others and Roman would surely follow after him and demand answers.

Roman’s touch is a shaky, changing warmth. Janus noticed it earlier when Roman had said the word “Bravery” and Janus hadn’t been able to form an actual response because he was so busy wondering if this was how all touch was supposed to feel. But now he thinks he can count every single atom that is touching him and the awareness hums in his veins in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

He sucks in an equally shaky breath and tries not to look like he’s leaning into the feeling. His stomach rolls around, twisting and churning to the point where it hurts. He might be able to blame this on a stomach bug. The other sides probably wouldn’t look farther than that. They don’t like him enough to look farther than that.

“Janus,” Roman says again, calling him by name and Janus wants to tell him to stop. He sounds like he cares and Janus knows it’s a lie. He thinks it’s a lie. He’s pretty sure it’s a lie.

It’s hard to tell right now, especially when his own inner desire is yearning for it not to be. He can’t trust himself when he’s like this. He always ends up doing something stupid.

Like sitting at the foot of Thomas’s stairs crying in front of Roman.

“Fuck,” Janus says, and laughs, like this was part of his grand master plan that definitely exists. He ignores the tissues Roman places at their knees and uses the back of his palms to get rid of those pesky, unprofessional tears. “My most humble apologies, my dear prince. Too much fun today I suppose--”

“Janus,” Roman cuts him off, and Janus wishes his sharp inhale was a little less noticeable. “Are you… Did….”

Janus can feel how Roman’s thumb is rubbing his shoulder, slow circles like a loading screen while he tries to weave together a sentence that makes coherent sense.

“Why?” Roman decides. “Why are you...why did you help Thomas meet Nico? Why did you force him to do it naturally without any lies? I thought you liked when Thomas tells lies!”

Janus snorts, which is a bad decision because his nose is runny and, god, now there’s snot all over his face, which just makes the lump in the back of his throat grow larger. He snatches up the stupid tissues and tears open the pack.

“I don’t--” Janus wipes away the snot, and tosses the tissue into oblivion. “I don’t want Thomas to lie all the time. Do you think I’m crazy, Roman? I have to manage every lie Thomas tells himself! It’s… It’s… imagine if you had to make a new video script every single day.”

Janus can see Roman’s confused look. It's adorable really, like a puppy that just got told to “Stay.” He recognizes that Janus is saying something, that Janus is talking to him, but the full meaning of the words is lost on him.

“If it's so taxing, why do you do it, then?” He asks, like it's some sort of choice and not his job.

“Why do you make video scripts? Why do you help Thomas practice his lines? Why do you take him on daydreams when he’s bored?”

“Because he asks me to,” Roman answers without a single hesitation. “Wait….”

Janus leans forward pressing his chin to his knees. His eyes close for a moment, two, three while Roman struggles to understand what Janus isn’t blatantly saying.

“Imagine if Thomas asked you to make a new video script every single day. Do you think you could say no to that?”

Roman makes a wounded noise from deep in the bottom of his soul. It resonates in the air between them, like an elephant neither of them wants to admit is there. Janus breathes in deeply, and wards off the fresh round of lovely wonderful tears that come from his lovely wonderful headache.

“I’m sorry about the court case, Roman,” Janus says. The words feel dangerous, like throwing knives and Roman flinches back, leaving the spot on Janus’s shoulder painfully freezing. “I wanted-- I wanted Thomas to do what he loved. I wanted him to stop lying about wanting to go to the callback and I thought that if I just made it so that only you could make the decision it would be easier! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Janus breathes in, but somehow it seems that all the oxygen in the room had dissipated without their knowledge. He gasps a few times, trying to get a steady rhythm back but the white noise in his head and the itch behind his eyes keep throwing him off.

There’s laughter-- it takes him a moment to realize it's his own. Which is just great, just fantastic, just what he needed. He finally got the sordid apology out and now he’s laughing.

But Roman is looking at him not with a scowl, but with some other emotion Janus can’t quite name through his blurry vision. For a second he thinks it might be fear-- which is even more funny than the idea that Virgil had been pretending to be Roman this whole time. In the safety of Thomas’s apartment, when Thomas had just gotten the boy of his dreams, when Janus was on the ground out of secret agendas to hide, what is there for Roman to fear?

“I just--” Janus gasps one more time, ignoring the sharp pain in his chest. “Thomas deserves a win. You deserve a win. That's why I wanted to help with Nico.” He feels like his head is going to pop right off. Maybe if he asks nicely Roman will get out his sword and do it free of charge and relatively painlessly.

“So I...ha, so I spent all day playing dress up,” Janus hates the wobble in his voice. “And now I’m a day behind on managing all my work and now Patton’s going to want to talk about what happened today, and someone needs to listen to Remus and Logan is obviously not doing too well so I have to check on him-- and Virgil too even though Virgil will probably throw something at me but I have to….And then Thomas is going to need me and I have…. I have to…”

“You really… you really do all that?” Roman says in a small voice that doesn’t suit him at all. “All by yourself?”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone else to help, Roman.” Janus says before he can stop himself.

“I’ll help you!”

Janus freezes. Because, well.

He’s heard those words before, hasn’t he? Not all that too long ago. When the divide between dark and light was more defined and Thomas hadn’t started posting videos with them in it and Janus wasn’t afraid of the purple door in the middle of the hall.

He knows how this conversation goes all too well.

But Janus apparently can’t learn any new tricks because he still says, “No, I can do this myself.”

(“You’ll kill yourself from stress, Jan!” Virgil had yelled. “Then where will we be?”

“I have everything under control, Virgil! I don’t need any help! Just drop it, okay?”

“Thomas and the Light sides are running you ragged and you want me to pretend like it isn’t hurting you? Are you crazy? They need to stop lying so much!”

“No! I can handle this!”

“Janus!”

“Virgil!”

“I can’t let you keep doing this,” Virgil had said, “If you won’t do something I will.”

“Don’t you dare!”

But he had. And now he was a light side, an accepted side, everyone’s favorite side. And he was slowly convincing Thomas to stop lying by turning Janus into something to be feared and avoided. How quaint. How trademark.)

Roman is staring at him. Janus can feel the weight of his eyes on him, and somehow that's worse than his hand on Janus’ shoulder. It’s heavier. It’s harder to just shrug off. It means something more.

Because Roman isn’t talking. And Janus isn’t hiding.

And if the words weren’t so hard to say, he thinks that maybe Virgil was right, and he should apologize.

“Huh,” Roman says after the silence threatens to swallow them both. He clears his throat and mercifully looks away, staring at that painting over Thomas’s couch. “I didn’t think you were stupid.”

Janus hisses at him, at the idea of him. But Roman flicks his fingers.

“Oh come on, Ouroboros,” Roman says. “You handle all of Thomas’s lies, and then you’re out there looking after each of us sides as well? I think after 31 videos we can all agree that one side being entire in control of Thomas is a bad thing! So why are you still trying to do everything?”

Janus has a very good answer. The best answer.

But Roman’s elbow reaches out and nudges him and all his thoughts scatter into the air. Maybe that was intentional, but Janus can’t find the energy in himself to really be angry about it.

“I…” Janus says, “I just want Thomas to be happy.”

“So do the rest of us too, Snakecrates!-- Get it? Like Socrates?-- Not gonna lie, your way to make him happy is truly… the foulest of methods, but at the end of the day we’re all a part of him.” Roman says. “Maybe instead of trying to puppet master this you could...try working with us? Like showing up as yourself instead of using Virgil’s or Logan’s face again?”

Janus snorts again. The backs of his eyelids shoot bright red stars across his vision. “As if. None of you would listen if I did things that way.”

Roman nudges him again. “It's just a suggestion, Slitherous Snape.”

“How many of those do you have?”

“Nicknames?” Roman pauses, and Janus guesses that he’s counting on his hand. “Dunno. A lot. I never get to use them because you show up in someone else’s clothes and I don’t realize it’s you. All the more reason you should listen to me and just show up as your usual self!”

Janus must have made a noise, but his brain is too preoccupied with the fact that the carpet in Thomas’s apartment is actually really comfy and if he buries his head in his knees the room is actually dark. His headache is a dull repetitive thob, like a drum beat that if he doesn’t focus too much on becomes a noise he can fall asleep to.

“I thought you hated me.” He admits, in a quiet tone and only partially hopes that it was too low for Roman to hear.

“Fool me once,” Roman says in a soft tone, humming like it's a melody. “Shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice…”

He sighs deeply.

“And I think that means we need to actually think about talking out things like adults.” Roman nudges him again, and then places his arm around Janus’s shoulders. “But not right now, when you’re half dead from exhaustion. Let’s get you to your room, Jan.”

There’s a cold feeling around both of them, washing over Janus’s muscles like a flood, as they sink down. His eyes open briefly just in time to make out his own room surroundings before Roman drops him on his bed.

Oh, it’s really comfortable. Has his body always sunk into his mattress like this?

“Get some sleep, Deceit,” Roman says.

“Wait... Logan…” Janus definitely does not whine.

“I’ll handle the nerd.”

There are so many reasons why that’s a bad idea-- Janus knows there are a bunch of reasons because he wrote them down on flashcards to study in between grieving Virgil leaving the dark sides and managing the lies Thomas tells day to day and the ones he had going on forever and the ones that sides told each other and--.

But before he can say any of that, Roman sifts a gentle hand through his hair and Janus loses the ability to think again.

(Janus really doesn’t remember when Roman gained that power.)

He curls up almost unintentionally on his bed, and Roman makes a noise that could have been a laugh, if Janus cared enough to check.

“Sweet dreams,” Roman says softly.

“W…wait!” Janus gathers the last bit of his energy, the residue from the gooey feelings Thomas was harboring, and surges after Roman before he can leave all the way. “How did you... know it was me? And not…”

“Virgil?” Roman offered. “You kept messing with the eyeshadow, Janus. He has that angsty charcoal color on twenty-four-seven. You kept changing it to purple. I mean I liked it, but that’s not his style.”

Janus frowns. “No….he has the purple when he’s happy. I know he has the purple… He only started wearing the black...when he was trying to freak out Thomas.” He sighs and settles back into his pillow. “It glows...when he’s happy…”

Janus has plenty of memories about that, too. They were some of his favorites: Virgil on Christmas morning when the prospect of presents was more scary than the idea of all Thomas’s relatives coming over, Virgil on late nights watching cryptid history shows with Remus and talking about marrying Mothman when Thomas got older, Virgil right after he first appeared to Thomas, glowing in all senses of the word because their host knew who he was.

Janus remembers being a little upset when Virgil covered it up, because it was another lie then: Virgil was hiding part of who he was and the three of them had always agreed on no lies between them.

Besides Virgil had always looked younger with the purple, looked more happy, looked more approachable. He looked like he was excited to see Janus and not like he would rip out his throat if they ended up in a room alone together.

Virgil was purple long before he had been black, and Janus thinks he might have been in love with him even before that too.

Who had he been talking to, again?

Janus gets the distinct feeling something is wrong, but his pillows are comfy, and his mattress is soft and he’s been running on fumes for far too long. He’s fast asleep before he realizes that Roman is still in his room, frowning, and wondering if that meant Virgil had never actually been happy around the Light Sides at all.

#sanders sides #Au #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #virgil sanders #crying #sleep deprivation #Oh god Janus is so tired guys #touch starvation #TS Spoilers #fwsa spoilers #Roman has no clue what he's doing here #anxceit #angst/comfort #then angst again #I'm only kinda sorry about it #Hey have you guys heard my new hc #for why Virgil and Janus can't stand each other #Janus is a workaholic

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awyeahitssam · 4 years

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Bakery!AU, werewolf Stiles Stilinski, no Hale fire. Working Title: No Shoes, No Shirts, No Fucks Given

Stiles wakes up in the middle of the woods, the bark of a large tree stump digging into his bare back.

Looks down.

Notes that he’s butt naked, though the sensation of twigs and leaves in uncomfortable places could’ve clued him in well enough without the visual input.

Groans.

“Fucking seriously? I knew I should’ve stuck to city life.”

He’s been a werewolf for nine weeks, and it’s the first time he’s left Berkeley since he was bitten. His dad had heavily hinted that he wanted him home for winter break months ago, and back then Stiles had been eager to agree.

That was Before. After, he just felt a crawling anxiety.

It was his dad. There was no way Noah wouldn’t notice something different about Stiles. He was a cop, trained to be observant, and in the past Stiles might have been fine but Noah had really stepped up his parenting game in Stiles’ junior year. He was hardly an absent father these days, which seemed like a bad thing for the first (okay, fifth) time.

Point being that Stiles took his finals, packed his shit, and decided to drive the two and a half hours back to Beacon Hills on about zero hours of sleep. Because he was an adult and could do what he wanted, and he wanted to be home two days sooner than promised, before his dad could throw out whatever incriminating shit was in the fridge.

After nearly falling asleep twice in about eighty minutes, Stiles ceded, pulled into a rest stop, and decided on a nap before continuing on. He had been taught to drive by three separate police officers, and besides that wasn’t dumb enough to keep himself in a situation that would have him crashing into a pole.

Key word being keep himself in, because he sure as heck would put himself in it during some manic burst of energy.

So he wasn’t super sure about the moral of this story. Don’t pass out at a rest stop, you’ll be kidnapped, stripped, and dumped in a forest?

More like: being a werewolf sucked ass.

The only footprints that he could see were his own, and his feet were bare but undamaged, coated in several layers of dirt.

Stiles groaned, standing and relishing the pop of his spine. Then he picked a direction.

Started walking.

It takes Stiles about half an hour to find his way out of the woods, and by that time he’s recognized it as the Beacon Hills preserve. Maybe it was a Stiles thing, or more likely it was a werewolf thing (because Stiles liked a brand new excuse to blame everything on as much as the next guy), but this was no half-assed form of sleepwalking. He had gone at least sixty miles.

It took another twenty minutes of jogging to make his way into town. His dad’s house would be another forty or so, and increased body temperature or not, he’s freezing.

He sees a light on and goes for it, because whatever happens can’t be worse than being caught half-naked and covered in dirt by the old lady next door who babysat him when he was little.

It’s a bakery, less than six months old since Stiles hasn’t been home in that long and it wasn’t here last time. His dad had probably mentioned it in passing, but Stiles can’t remember for the life of him.

Most importantly, when he pushes the door (completely bypassing the ‘Closed’ sign) it budges open, bell chiming over the entryway. A sharp-eyed man looks up from the counter, mouth already open to snap something, and his words fall away in the face of Stiles pathetic state.

“Look man, I know the sign says ‘No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service.’ but I just had the weirdest night and your shop is the only building with lights on this early and I’m really, really hoping you have some spare clothes behind the counter.”

Stiles stares the dark-haired baker down hopelessly, giving his best doe eyes, and says, “Help?”

It’s not something he’s used to asking for, but put in this situation there’s not much else to do.

For the longest moment the man just stares into Stiles’ eyes, but then he takes a deep breath and the crease between his brows eases.

“Come with me,” he sighs, raising the counter so Stiles can follow him into the back of the shop. “Wouldn’t want the Sheriff’s son to be arrested for public indecency, would we?”

Stiles tries not to bristle, because there are several officers on duty (two of which he had dodged on his way) and the guy seems like he’s about to help him out. Besides, something about the man’s presence is settling, and his frazzled mind finally seems to be focusing for the first time in days.

Of course, it gets a little sketchy when that focus extends to him memorizing the scent of the guy’s shampoo and hearing his heartbeat like a loud, steady drum directly in his ear. Stiles is trying to wrangle in his super senses when a pair of sweatpants and a white tee are shoved into his arms. He turns to blink up at the man, who’s tugging his button up back on sans undershirt, and shifts awkwardly.

“Uh, thanks,” Stiles rasps, and swallows when he realizes how hoarse his voice sounds for the first time.

“Change in here,” the man says curtly, showing Stiles to the employee restroom. “We’ll talk when you’re done.”

Stiles nods, entering the bathroom with a heavy sense of trepidation. He’s going to have a hard time explaining this away, and he knows it. Still, he’s earned a reputation as ‘silvertongue’ at college, and not just because Loki was his favorite Marvel character and Stiles was good with his mouth.

He dresses slowly, bits of a plan coming together as he wipes the dirt from his feet with a damp paper towel and washes his hands. By the time he exits he looks somewhat presentable, mostly in that he’s no longer naked and doesn’t have dirt streaking his face, legs, and feet.

He hears movement towards the front of the shop, and spares a longing glance towards what he assumes in the back door, but before he can make a move the baker pops his head around the corner, eyes narrowed.

“I made tea,” he announces, and it sounds bizarrely threatening. “Come join me.”

Stiles flashes him a sheepish (and one-hundred-percent false) smile and follows him out to one of the tables. They sit.

“So, uh, thanks for the clothes—I’ll wash them and bring them back here tomorrow, if that’s cool?”

The man shrugs ambivalently, but his eyes are sharp and heavy as he regards Stiles. “That’s acceptable. Care to explain your nude jaunt through the night?”

“It’s morning,” Stiles quips back, mouth quicker than his brain, and winces preemptively, waving his hand through the air as though to dismiss his automatic snark. “No, ignore that, I’m rude and yeah, you kinda deserve an explanation here.”

Stiles sighs heavily, looking to the ceiling as if asking for some otherworldly assistance, before crossing his hands and looking back to Peter with faux seriousness. “No one in the history of ever should agree to a drunken carpool with frat boys.”

The guy’s eyebrows raise.

“Not, like, drunk driving carpool. This was more of a everyone-but-the-driver-is-wasted-after-finals-and-the-driver-can’t-turn-down-a-good-bet-to-save-his-life kind of situation. And, if you aren’t following, I was the driver.”

It's a simple enough part for Stiles to play. Stupid college student gets in over his head. Sheriff’s Kid - Bad Again? Cliches exist for a reason.

Stiles falls into his role flawlessly, blushing and wincing and laughing awkwardly at all the right points. He pulls experiences from his life to make the emotions more genuine, though some part of him still feels distant and amused by the whole situation. It’s probably the same part of Stiles that cackles at the misfortune of others and thinks morbid things at the least appropriate times.

So yes, Stiles is caught up in the lie, but he’s also monitoring the guy for a reaction. Nothing about his countenance seems to indicate disbelief so it’s a good bet this is working. Stiles was seven when he taught himself to be a good liar.

Becoming a werewolf just made him a great one. The ability to smell whether somebody was buying his shit or not was invaluable.

And really, who would admit to such a preposterous and embarrassing tale if it wasn’t true?

“—and now that you’ve got enough material to blackmail me for life, what even is your name?”

The guy, who had stared at him steadily through his rant, scent fluctuating between incredulity, amusement, and irritation, tapped neat nails on the table between them. “I’m ever-so hurt you don’t already know it, but very well. It’s Peter.”

Stiles cocked a brow.

“Hale.”

Stiles blinked, because Hale was not only a name he knew from childhood, but one that had popped up in his extensive research into his sudden lycanthropy.

And this guy couldn’t be serious.

“Oh? Any relation to Talia Hale?”

The man smirks. Stiles wonders if he can smell his building irritation at the thought that—

“Oh yes, Alpha Hale is my older sister.”

Good god.

“Did you seriously just sit there listening to my ode on the tribulations of being a dumb college kid for shits and giggles?”

Peter shrugs loosely. “I wanted to see if you could lie convincingly, and it seems you can.”

Stiles’ exhaustion and grumpiness began to peek through the need to protect his secret. He had to find his car, figure out what led to the sleepwalking and how to prevent it in the future, and determine whether or not he was going to be attacked for entering another pack's territory despite having grown up there.

He also had one million questions about the whole ‘how to werewolf’ issue, but he’d been doing fine on his own so far and Stiles hated asking for help. Especially from someone that practically reeked of smugness.

Stiles wrinkled his nose, huffed, and stood. “Thanks for the outfit, I’ll bring it back tomorrow morning.”

He turned to the door, and for a moment Peter let him live in the delusion that he could walk out without a word.

“You know, sweetheart, your life is going to be difficult if you can’t even tell a born were from your average human.”

Stiles stalled, glancing back. It was a good point. Stiles had been in the same high school as Cora Hale for four years and never even suspected. Clearly he wasn’t as observant as he liked to think.

“My life is already pretty difficult, darling. Are you just pointing out what’s evident, or offering a solution?”

Peter made a thoughtful humming sound, watching him expectantly, and Stiles scoffed. “Yeah, I thought not.”

Whatever this man wanted from him, Stiles wasn’t interested.

He was halfway out the door when Peter asked, “Would you like a ride?”

Stiles grit his teeth and tried to think logically. He couldn’t show up at his dads sans jeep, and he really didn’t fancy walking the sixty plus miles to find it.

Still, “Don’t you have a shop to open?”

#steter drabble #steter #peter/stiles #STILES/PETER #alpha stiles #naked vision quests #(No not actually)#Pre-Slash #first ‘chapter’ and Peter has already seen Stiles naked #wolf whistles

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

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Day 7: Crossover | Day 8: Magic

@pridewrite2021

Okay, so, this work consists of Dimension Travel, or “Crossing” into another world as I have taken from the prompt. I’m not sure if that counts, but I’ve already written it so... Here it is :D

(Lost You) Found You

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Derek Hale × Stiles Stilinski

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough.It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and for Derek.

This is the link for AO3. Or you can read here.

Warning(s): Grief/Mourning, MCD, Child(ren) Death [not graphic, mentioned], Kate Argent [also mentioned]

>> Starts from here.

The rain falling down on the earth is harsh and unforgiving, and Stiles Stilinski loves it. The pain of the droplets falling on his skin makes him feel alive, lets him feel everything he's trying to repress feeling for a long time.

He thinks he mostly started to bottle up his feelings after he killed Allison.

“Let's go.”

Stiles doesn't move. He stays seated on the broken, burnt porch of the Hale House, tasting the guilt on his tongue, it's so potent.

It's not just his own, after all. Survivor's guilt is a bitch enough on its own, but mixed with two dudes who hate their very existence, what their choices have caused their loved ones—dead loved ones—it's so much more.

“It will follow us, you know.” Stiles says, because he knows it will. The bad luck is like a suffocating cloak around him, around both of them, a sadist entity that has pulled out the last breath from everyone but them.

Derek Hale sits beside him, their hands coming to intertwine of its own accord.

Stiles doesn't exactly remember when he fell in love with him. When his heart beat not for Lydia, but Derek. But he remembers the day he realised it.

It was in Mexico, when Derek died—only to evolve. But Stiles hadn't known he was evolving, and he'd wanted to stay beside the ex-Alpha. But because Derek Hale is a fucking martyr, he'd insisted Stiles go and save his best friend—even if Scott hadn't been his best buddy in ages. Stiles wasn't even sure he had friends anymore.

So Stiles had left. And then he'd come out with Scott alive, only to find Derek as a wolf, evolved and majestic and every inch strong and beautiful that Derek's soul is.

And then Derek had left with Braeden.

That had been four years ago, now. Derek had come back with him to fight against Monroe three years ago—and stayed.

Even if it meant watching his third pack die. Even if it meant having people to care about, and vowing to let no harm come to them, and failing them.

But the past-them didn't know what was about to come.

Stiles wished they did, because then he could have done something.

Not let everyone die, for one.

When their relationship began—his and Derek's—it was like the best feeling in the world. The two of them were easy, when the dust settled. There was—and still is—a familiarity between them that Stiles' soul believes comes from a past life.

But nothing good lasts in Beacon Hills, and soon the war became a death warrant for everyone in their pack.

There were divides so deep that none of them could trust each other with their personal information—Even Scott didn't know Liam and Theo were together until they found their bodies, Theo's body over Liam's, as if protecting him—Stiles still doesn't know if anyone but Lydia and his dad even knew about him and Derek. But despite the personal mistrust, they were pack. And pack kept each other alive.

Because they had each other's backs. Always.

Stiles remembers those late-nights, when everyone would hope for a better future without a war, where they could start living again. And he smiles at their hope, their positive attitudes.

And then he cries. Because none of them are alive and everyone is dead and it's just them and dad's gone and Scott is gone and Melissa is gone and Lydia is gone—

“Breathe, Stiles, please. Breathe.”

Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough. It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and Derek.

At least one thing in his life isn't completely bad.

***

The Animal Clinic—the one Deaton left behind after his death in Scott's name, and now belongs to the County since Scott didn't think to name it to anyone else—stands deserted and dirty in the pale light of the half-full moon.

“What if it doesn't work?” Derek asks him. Stiles looks at him, and he looks just as he'd expected. Resigned.

It's either this will work, or they'll die trying.

Derek doesn't mind dying. Stiles knows because he's heard the man crying and shaking and admitting it—losing Cora after years of believing she was dead only to find she wasn't dead, and then being a major reason in her actual death would do that to anyone, not to mention the tremendous loss Derek's faced his whole life.

It's ironically sad, how the both of them have drifted closer, both of them hating themselves for the loss of everyone so much that the love they share for each other is barely more than an attempt to have something right.

But Stiles loves Derek, and he thanks the universe for loving Derek not just to hold on to something, but because he cares. As Derek does for him.

Derek helps him prepare the spell, the set-up. Stiles has never been more grateful in his life for his weird brand of magic—of the power his belief holds.

Stiles knows this is the only way he'll be able to live, and he knows it's the same for Derek. But he also knows that he would have made it, even if barely, as long as Derek would be by his side.

He kisses Derek, long and passionate and with everything he has. When they part, Derek rests their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Derek tells him. A tear flows from his electric, glowing blue eyes, and Stiles wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too. With everything in me.”

And then he believes.

***

The residents of Beacon Hills, the few those remain, feel goosebumps rise on their skin on one evening of 2017, days after the latest massacre of their little town.

They all hallucinate a voice saying, “Balance,” freezing everyone, and then they continue on, unaware that the things were about to change.

Things were about to change for the better, The Spark's and The Alpha's belief powered the Nemeton to make sure of that.

***

The cold air is what wakes him up. That, and the soft groaning from his right, which Stiles instantly recognises as Derek.

Stiles opens his eyes, and the air around him doesn't feel oppressive. It's easier to breathe, to think. There's a feeling in his chest that can't quite grasp, and he's so buy trying to analyse it that he completely misses the huge tree stump behind him.

It's only when Derek curses about fucking woods that he realises they aren't in the clinic at all, but out in the preserve and near the Nemeton.

Stiles looks over at Derek. The 'wolf looks back with wide eyes.

“I—Stiles,” he chokes out, voice a thin line between relief and a sob, “I can feel them. I can feel them, all of them,”

The hole in his heart, his soul seems smaller, somehow, like they're being stitched together, and Stiles only has a vague idea about it. But the way Derek is reacting, his suspicions are confirmed.

“It worked,” Stiles whispers, and hugs Derek tight, both of them crying in euphoria.

Lost in themselves, neither of them notices the small plant that blooms behind them on the Nemeton, a new life breathed into it by the sacrifice of the various souls the two travelers brought with them.

Across the town, a Druid snaps his eyes at the sky above, instantly alerted to the change in the air—the lightness, the power—and his eyes almost bug out of his skull when a voice whispers, “Balance.”

***

Stiles and Derek trek through the familiar woods of the preserve in soft whispers and an excitement that neither has felt in a long time.

“I wonder what's different here,” Stiles says, hands moving with Derek's, clasped tightly as it is. They might have made it to another dimension or universe or whatever this is, but they haven't left their paranoia or love or past behind him. They're who they are because of their experiences, and it's not going to change, even if they get an eternity to do so. But it doesn't mean they aren't at least a little bit excited.

Derek had said he smelled his family all over the preserve, which means Stiles has somehow made them cross into a universe where the fire never happened.

“We aren't here.”

Stiles stops in his tracks. He looks at Derek. Stares, really. “The hell?”

Derek looks at him with soft, but sad eyes, like he has since they first lost Stiles' dad and then slowly everyone else.

“Stiles,” he says, “I might not know much about magic, but I know that there can't be two of us in the same universe. Magic won't let it happen.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a long while. “You can't smell yourself, can you?” He asks softly.

Derek nods his head. He laughs hollowly. “Guess me dying would really have been the best thing,”

Stiles kisses him to shut him up. “No, dumbass. Neither of us can have two of us here. If you're gone it means I am too,” he says fiercely. “We don't know what's different here, Der. For all we know you died in a stupid car crash because you drive so fucking fast—”

Derek's laugh, a little more genuine now, makes him smile and kiss Derek on the cheek.

“The thing is, we don't know. Anything could have happened, okay? Your family's death has never been your fault.”

Derek nods, and then with his eyes boring into Stiles' like they can read everything on his mind, Derek says, “Your mother's death or Allison's and Aiden's deaths has never been your fault.”

They both ignore the tears that fall from Stiles' eyes, and then Derek is tugging at his hand to continue on their little trek to the Hale House—which is hopefully standing, unburnt and filled with every bit of joy and noise that it wasn't in their world.

***

The two of them emerge from the trees to a house that's filled with silence. There's no noise coming from inside, and the lights are off—Stiles thinks they're in mourning. But why?

Derek leads him further, their hands forever joined together, and Stiles can't even appreciate the beauty of the house—the images of the burnt out husk that it was in theirs plays over and over in his mind—because it feels... Wrong.

He would have thought they'd all be happy. Full of life and enjoying every moment spent together.

Before Stiles can ask Derek to relay what he can hear, the 'wolf's breath hitches and groans out a choked off, “Laura,”

The main door of the house slams open, and there stands a woman who Stiles has seen all but once in his life—body sliced in half—and instantly recognises.

Tears falls from his eyes, and he lets Derek stick his nose in his neck, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend, of his comfort, his anchor.

Stiles rubs his hands over Derek's back, comforting him as much as he's able while he himself grieves for the years Derek's sister—her Alpha—could have lived but didn't. “She's alive, Der. She's alive, your sister is alive.”

He looks up at Laura when he hears a whine. Laura looks like she's seen a ghost, and when she keeps looking at Derek—and him, like she's seeing his ghost too, but they didn't know each other in this world, or did they?—Stiles can only crumble in his self-hatred and guilt.

He's never claimed he's not a liar, after all.

“We're dead in this world, aren't we,” he whispers, and Derek steps back just enough to say, “I was right,”

Stiles punches him in the shoulders. It makes Derek smile, even if it's wobbly.

Stiles watches as Derek goes to hug his sister, and the way she falls into his arms, boneless. He feels himself wishing to hug his dad, his pack. And then like suddenly his luck has gotten turned around and it's all good from then on, he sees two people he never would have thought to in the Hale House.

“Mom, dad,” he whispers, and then he's being hugged, too.

***

Stiles and Derek sit on the loveseat in the living room, both of their hands intertwined, anchoring them in the sea of people they'd never thought they'd see again. Not after they buried them all.

Stiles feels angry and envious at them all at only ever losing two people when he and Derek have lost everyone, but he pushes that feeling down underneath all the happiness he gets at having to have back all of them. Derek seems to be on the same boat as him, because they always seem to be.

Talia Hale and Nathaniel Hale—Alpha and Alpha Mate of the Hale Pack—sit in the middle of the room, in direct eyesight of him and Derek, as good Alphas are wont to do when unknown people wearing their dead kid's faces show up unexpectedly.

Peter Hale, Laura Hale and Cora Hale all sit on the floor before the two of them, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd sitting in their touching distance.

And then there's Noah John Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski, both of them sitting on the other loveseat, completing the circle.

Derek and him have put their emotions in the backburner for now, because both of them know when it comes to the safety of their pack, they'd rather be objective than emotional. They've lost too much to not learn that.

“So,” Talia Hale starts, eyes boring into Derek's for a moment before she has to avert her eyes, “you claim to be Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek shares a look with him, and Stiles puts his hand on Derek's knees. They might have decided to put their emotions in check, but doing it is harder in practice.

“Yes,” he says, and squeezes Derek's thigh in comfort. Everyone is drawn to that movement, but none of them say anything. Stiles throws Laura a glance though, because she seems to be biting back a smirk.

“Why should we believe you?” Talia continues.

“Ask us anything that only we would know.” There can't be that much of a difference in their lives, right? The fire obviously didn't happen, and his mom is alive, but Erica, Boyd and Isaac still ended up being werewolves. There has to be some sort of overlap.

Cora flashes her yellow beta eyes at them. “My brother died at 16. Stiles—the real Stiles—died when he was 10. There's not much we can ask.” She gives them a feral smile, full of teeth—Derek and Stiles share a look; she's definitely been spending a lot of time with Peter—and adds, “But you already know that, don't you?”

Derek takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Stiles, and Stiles knows without words that he is missing their Cora right now—the one they buried beside Laura.

Cora's smile falters at Derek's display, and she looks at everyone before focusing back on them.

Stiles gives her a hard look. “No, Cora. We didn't know that.” He says, voice hard from the tears he's holding back. “How did they die? And when?”

Nobody answers him. Well, if it's going to be like that.

Stiles has always been good at research. It's not hard to figure things out. And given that it's January here—like it was there—and the fact that he knows they were all mouring together... Something must have brought the two families together. Something other than their kids' death.

“Der, when did the fire happen?” He asks softly. Derek looks up at him with furrowed brows.

“You know when,” Derek says.

“I do,” he agrees. “Tell them.”

Understanding dawns on his face. Bunching up Stiles' hoodie, Derek leans in and kisses him, hard and desperate, like he's afraid Stiles will vanish any second.

“Idiot.” Derek calls him fondly.

“Says the ex-Alpha with the martyr complex,”

Someone clears their throat, and Stiles pulls back sheepishly. It's strangely good to be scolded on his PDA with his boyfriend. Actually it's good to not be just the two of them anymore.

“Want to share with the class?” Stiles' dad asks, and he turns to look at Derek.

Derek takes a deep breath in, and looks straight at Talia. “25 January, 2005. Kate Argent and her goons line the house with mountain ash and trap eleven members of the Hale Pack inside, burning them alive.” His jaw works painfully as he continues, words filled the pain that never really went away, only to be filled with more pain than a person should endure. “But I am guessing that didn't happen here. Somehow Stiles—” he looks defiantly at the Stilinski's, “—Mieczyslaw managed to find his way to me and fought her. Didn't they? And she killed them.”

“And I killed her,” Peter tells them. Stiles isn't really surprised.

“And it all happened today, on January 25, twelve years ago,” Stiles states. It's not a question. And with the way everyone in the room stiffens, it's true.

“Are you sure she's dead?” Derek asks then, and Stiles kisses his knuckles when the 'wolf's hands trembles in Stiles' hold.

Peter's eyes flash. They're golden. “I burned her with the same match she was going to kill my pack with.”

“Good.” Stiles tells him.

He and Derek are never going to be okay again. They might have found a world where none of their loved ones—their pack—die, but that doesn't erase their past. The scars are there, etched on every atom of their being, and they won't ever leave. They will fade, maybe, one day. And there might be bonds in his heart connecting him to everyone—Derek, his parents, the Hale Pack. Even Scott, Malia. Melissa, Lydia, Jackson, Ethan, Jordan, Allison, Kira, Liam, Mason and Theo—even if he has no idea where any of them are.

Stiles just knows he has his bonds, however fragile, connecting him to everyone, and Derek has his. It's clear in the way Derek's posture is just a little more relaxed—a little more tall, like he's purging the negative feelings from himself—like Stiles supposes he is too.

Crossing over to another world simply with the will of his magic might not be what Stiles had imagined he'd find that night when he urged Scott to find the dead body with him—Laura's body—but Stiles can't do anything to change that.

And something tells him this was always supposed to be how it all played out.

Him and Derek, losing everyone that ever meant something to them, only to jump to another world where every person they loved lost them.

Proving themselves they're who they say—and then being smushed in a hug that's as stifling as it's freeing.

Stiles won't say he'd rather have changed what happened, even if he wants to. Magic is its own entity, another form of nature that's manifested itself over eons, and if magic has brought them here—and it has—then Stiles, or Derek, or anyone, none of them have any say in what will happen.

They can only hope this was their last trial.

#pridewrite2021 #pw alt7 #pw alt8 #f: teen wolf #m: fanfic #r: Mature #c: stiles stilinski #I: Bisexual #c: derek hale #I: Demisexual #spark stiles stilinski #beta derek hale #MCD #alternate universe - canon divergence #everyone dies #dimension travel #everyone lives #my fic #whenwordsmakesense

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lazywitchling · 4 years

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Dabbler’s Week - research proposal edition

I say “Research proposal” because this isn’t so much going to be what I’d ACTUALLY use as a guide, it’s just the STRUCTURE I’d use to write the guide, and why I chose what I did. For a little background on what the hell is going on, see @asksecularwitch‘s post here.

Monday - Spellwork

What: A simple candle-and-petition-paper spell. Dabbler chooses what they want, but with the instruction that it is straightforward, specific, and tangible. The Drake-Meme format would be: “I want to increase my wealth” ✋ - “I want ten bucks in the coming week” 👈 The spell is written out exactly as performed, really hand-holdy, Do This, Then This, Next This, Finally This.

Why: Look, if I were brand new and gonna pick a “dabble in witchcraft for a week” thing, I’d want to start out doing some effin’ witchcraft. So we’ll start with casting a spell. It’s written super hand-holdy because at the beginning, you really just want some step-by-step instructions on what to do. Also a week is a good time frame to give a spell, and casting it at the beginning gives it a chance to manifest by the end of the week. And FURTHERMORE, it’s a surprise tool that will help us later...

Tuesday - Cleansing a Space

What: Dabbler picks out a space to cleanse, told that the space they choose will be made into a sacred space tomorrow. They will play music of their choosing (with a few suggestions to get them started, just so nobody’s floundering, aka “relaxing yoga music, or something loud and peppy, your favorite childhood song, a meme song that makes you laugh, etc.”) while they also mundanely clean the space.

Why: Cleansing is one of those Cornerstone Witchy Things that everyone talks about offhandedly, like “cleanse your space after this spell”, and giving the Dabbler a simple way of doing that is a good first tool to have in their bag. Music is freely available, and it’s customizable, and playing music while doing a mundane cleaning associates the Magical Cleaning with the Mundane Cleaning in their mind, so they get a sense of “clean vibes” as related to “clean space”. Sidenote: the space can be a shelf, a box, a corner of the room, whatever. Might have some notes in there about other things they can add to their cleansing, like the usual magical washes or sprays, lighting a candle, or whatever. Nothing too complicated at this point, though, we’re still taking baby steps.

Wednesday - Creating a Sacred Space

What: The Dabbler picks out items they already have on hand to create a sacred space in the area that was cleansed the day before (the shelf, box, corner, whatever). Sacred here meaning “Set apart; special”, not necessarily “holy; religious”. Dabbler is encouraged to decorate and arrange things until they feel it has the proper vibe.

Why: This is to encourage the Dabbler to think about the mundane things around their own home, and how those things can be magical just by Deciding That They Are. The idea is not necessarily to create an Altar, though it can also work as practice for that should the Dabbler later choose to have one. In my own practice, I don’t have a permanent Sacred Space, because it doesn’t really fit what I do or how I live. But I tried making some when I first started, and I think it was an important learning point. Now, when I feel that I DO need a sacred space, I’m able to whip one up with whatever is around, and I think that’s a great skill to have. It’s helpful to know and feel what “Sacred” or “Special” feels like to the individual, what it takes for you to really vibe with a space or setting. My spaces are more about reining in my hyperactive brain and creating a boundary for it to focus on, not about creating a holy circle of ground, but I know what that distinction feels like BECAUSE of the times I dabbled in creating sacred spaces. This is when your brain gets to learn what It’s Witchin’ Time feels like.

Thursday - Herbal Correspondences

What: The Dabbler goes to their own kitchen or garden and picks out three spices, herbs, and/or flowers (that they 100% know what they are). At this point, it isn’t necessary to actually gather them, just to write down what is easily accessible at that moment. They then check out the Wikipedia article on their chosen herbs, and build their own correspondence list from that article.

Why: “Whoa whoa whoa, Jes, why are you suggesting Wikipedia??” Oh easy. Because it’s accessible, it’s free, and it’s not witchy. Wikipedia gets a bad rap as a resource for a variety of reasons, but for what it does, it does well. It’s an encyclopedia, so it is by nature a surfacey resource. That’s okay. That’s all we need right now. Instead of googling magical correspondences of cinnamon and finding 1000+ lists that all copied from a copy of a copy of a copy of Crowley and then not knowing WHY that thing has that correspondence, the Dabbler is going to learn to make their own by starting a (very basic) relationship with that herb. Example: I was trying to research magical correspondences of base oils, but everything I found was one-word answers, most of which was “fertility”. Which was... entirely not helpful. So I set out to make my own. Specific example: I looked into castor oil (according to “magickal” sources, it’s correspondence is simply “protection”), but my mundane research taught me that it’s been used for hydraulic and brake fluids, used in food preservation, sold as a laxative, and historically has been used as torture and humiliation (with the laxative effect, I’m sure you can figure out exactly how). Well NOW we’re getting somewhere, because now I associate it with “getting things moving”, whether in a negative or positive way. Having the Dabbler learn to do mundane research like this helps strengthen their relationship with what they use, teaches them that they can research their own materials without needing another Witch (or an Amazon Lisa) to do it for them, and teaches them that they can use what they have on hand rather than consulting a magical list of things they don’t have and wondering where the hell they’re supposed to buy white willow bark.

Friday - Divination

What: The Dabbler will gather small trinkets that they already have and collect them in a box or bag. They then ask questions (possibly with the aid of a list of suggested questions?) and draw a trinket (or cast a couple, if they’re feeling adventurous!) and interpret.

Why: I love Tarot as much as the next witch, but it’s not always practical for the starting witch. And in my experience, I can be dragged just as hard by my trinkets as I can by my traditional tarot decks. Gathering trinkets is (again, as you’re starting to see a theme, I hope) a way to use what is already on hand. And after the Wikipedia exercise from the previous day, the Dabbler should have a little bit of practice in thinking about associations. The action figure their nephew left at their house can mean “lost” but it can also mean “found”, or it’s Spiderman and means “responsibility” or Wonder Woman means “truth”, etc.

Saturday - Crafting a Charm

What: The Dabbler will create a simple charm (most likely a protective one, but I’m not married to the idea). They’ll use their own skills to hand make something tangible, however simple it may be. Could be crafting a keychain using their beading skills, or embroidering a small design onto their jeans pocket, or as simple as wrapping a colored thread around a ring they wear. Whatever it is, it will be a thing that they make with their hands.

Why: We’re falling away from the railroad guidelines at this point in the week, and encouraging the Dabbler to start thinking on their own about what they can do. There’s still suggestions so they don’t get totally lost, but it’s far less hand-holdy than the first spell of the week. With two whole exercises about thinking through associations of things, hopefully they can start to come to conclusions on their own (”You know, I think I’ll hang a safety pin from the keychain, because that just Feels Right to me” or “This string should be blue, because that’s the color of my protective gloves at work”). And the second purpose of the charm is... it’s a tangible thing. It’s a souvenir. If at the end of the week the Dabbler decides that they had fun but witchcraft isn’t for them, cool. But maybe three years down the line, they find that keychain they made during Witch Camp Week, and they think “Oh hey, I remember doing that...” and perhaps it comes to them at exactly the time they need it and they decide to pick it up again. (Or they find it and go “lol that wasn’t for me” and chuck it in the trash. Failure is always an option!)

Sunday - Spellwork Redux

What: Get in losers, we’re casting the same spell again. Well, not the SAME spell, but the same sort. That candle spell from the beginning of the week? The Dabbler will now repeat it with similar purpose. BUT, this time they are to modify the spell somehow. Even less guidelines here now. Maybe they want to perform the spell in their sacred space. Maybe they want to cleanse before performing it. Maybe they want to sprinkle some herbs on the candle, or steep some herbs in hot water and use a brush to write on the paper. Whatever they do is theirs to decide.

Why: EXPERIMENTATION. Really, how often do any of us see a cool spell and then perform it EXACTLY AS WRITTEN? I don’t know about you, but I always always always have to modify it somehow, whether it’s to fit what I have, fit my paradigm, or just because personalization is important in my craft. Redoing the spell with a little bit of tweaking means the Dabbler gets to close off the week with a little more of that Witches Casting Spells stuff that they probably expected, but with a chance to see how they can change it now, how they can make it more suited to them, or how they think it might work better. Maybe it will work better. Maybe it will be worse. Either way is a result.

Conclusion - or the TL;DR

Guidelines at the beginning of the week, transitioning to more creative freedom by the end of the week. Heavy encouragement of using what’s freely on hand and easily accessible, rather than buying specialty materials that may or may not be helpful or ever used again (not to mention could be hella expensive). Some spells, because let’s be honest, some people just really really want the spellz. And mundane research, because it’s too often neglected even among the veteran witches.

#long post #dabbler's week #asksecularwitch

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illlidans · 3 years

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Buy used car tips

Action 1: Establish Your Spending plan You can purchase a used vehicle with cash money or by getting a vehicle loan. Presume which way is the smartest. We just advise spending for an automobile with cash money. No vehicle repayments right here! Yes, that suggests you'll have a severe damage in your cost savings, yet you'll miss the stress of investing thousands of dollars on car loan repayments monthly. Isn't that outstanding? For instance, if you borrow $10,000 for an automobile with a 5% rates of interest as well as a term of five years, you'll end up investing an added $1,322.74 in passion. Not so inexpensive anymore! However prior to you lose hope, remember this: You can find reputable pre-owned vehicles in any type of cost variety. If you're battling monetarily, you can locate an automobile to obtain you from point A to factor B for as low as $1,000 to $2,000. It might not be rather, yet you'll get by. If you aren't satisfied with the vehicles you can manage, bear in mind that you can take all that money you reduce vehicle settlements every month as well as stash it away for an upgrade. Just make it a top priority in your budget! P.S. If you need a budgeting tool, provide ours a test-drive in a Ramsey+ complimentary trial. It'll help you get going on ending up being debt-free and also functioning your method to the cars and truck you really want. Step 2: Find Your Perfect Vehicle When you have actually established your budget plan, you can locate your excellent auto. Not your dream auto. Your ideal car. It's the one that ideal fits your way of living and your reasons for buying it. Prior to you state your commitment to your favored vehicle brand, go back as well as have a look at the kinds of vehicles and what each was created to do. Trucks, as an example, were designed to lug goods and also hefty materials. So unless you're hauling heavy cargo regularly (you know-- crushed rock, lumber, blocks), do not buy a truck. For a great traveler lorry, stick with choices that are portable as well as energy reliable, like cars, hatchbacks or hybrids. Narrow down your choices with this fast list. Read through these declarations and also pick three that relate to your situation the most. Use your solution to assist choose which sort of cars and truck is perfect for you. ____ I want a vehicle with a lot of freight space. ____ I desire an automobile that can fit even more people. ____ I want a lorry with far better gas economy. ____ I desire an automobile that's very easy to enter and out of. ____ I want a lorry that's risk-free. ____ I want a lorry that's much better for the environment. ____ I want my lorry to lug heavy cargo. ____ I want to go off-road or on harsh terrain. ____ I desire my lorry to be compact as well as light for city car park. ____ I desire my car to have lugging abilities. As you choose your perfect vehicle, you'll have to make some sacrifices as well. You won't discover an automobile that does whatever. So prepare your heart for that. Be honest with yourself regarding your wants as well as your requirements, and believe long term regarding exactly how you'll be utilizing your automobile. Want to Save a Little Money? Obviously you do. So think about features you do not need your vehicle to have. Not simply technology like in-dash GPS, Bluetooth connectivity and also backup video cameras-- yet the basics as well. What kind of standard points? Well, take cylinders, for instance. Today, a 2011 Kia Sorento with 6 cyndrical tubes prices around $8,350 to $10,750.4 The exact same Kia with a four-cylinder engine? $7,750 to $10,150 (as well as these numbers change almost day-to-day).5 Though it might not feel like a great deal, you can take that added (virtually) $600 as well as put it towards your car insurance policy. Tip: Unless you're hauling hefty freight, simply stick with 4 cylinders. What concerning the transmission? Stick shifts are typically cheaper than automatics, some versions also improve gas mileage, as well as last but not least-- they're simply ordinary enjoyable to drive. As well as do you actually require four-wheel drive (AWD), or can you get by with front- or rear-wheel drive (2WD)? Unless you reside in the hills or handle great deals of rain, snow as well as ice on your commute, stick to front- or rear-wheel drive if you're simply driving in the city. Bonus Tip: When you're comparing different automobiles, do not neglect to think of insurance costs also. Deal with an independent insurance coverage representative who can help you save without shedding on protection on your cars and truck. Action 3: Buy a Used Automobile Now that you understand how much you can spend and also what kind of cars and truck cares for your requirements, you can begin buying. But initially, let's talk about two areas you ought to stay away from. New automobile dealers. Although a lot of new car dealers market utilized cars, they're always a lot more costly. Buy-here, pay-here great deals. These great deals refer to car dealerships that not just offer autos (get here) yet additionally use vehicle loan (pay here). You have actually seen these places. They generally have multicolor pennant streamers strung between light posts as well as a 20-foot blow-up gorilla trembling a "sale" indicator. Yep, you understand the kind. Stay clear of these lots as well. Their cars have a lots of surprise charges, and they likewise typically have less than a 48-hour return policy. With a little bit much more looking, you can locate better utilized cars somewhere else. Here are 6 places to begin your search. CarMax has a significant online stock and a very detailed cars and truck inspection. Carvana, like CarMax, has a huge supply and also does careful vehicle inspections. The difference is that Carvana is entirely an on the internet vehicle buying experience. And also Carvana delivers the cars and truck to you! Craigslist doesn't bill you a purchase fee (like ebay.com does). eBay Motors markets cars and trucks with online auctions and buy-it-now straight acquisitions. Display room grass can be dangerous, yet sometimes, the very best deals come from purchasing from an exclusive proprietor. Independent utilized vehicle dealers are likewise a clever area to look. Certain, you need to discuss with aggressive sales people, however you can certainly locate an offer at a strong car dealership. Step 4: Identify the Utilized Car's Worth Currently it's time to identify if the used automobile you have actually picked deserves the price. Collect all the info you can on the cars and truck so you can talk the vendor down to a much better deal. 1. Start with Kelley Directory (KBB). KBB uses data collected from real sales purchases and also auction prices to give you an exact price variety for the made use of cars and truck. 2. Buy a car history report (VHR). A good VHR prices regarding $50 as well as consists of mishap history, possession background, and also a lots of various other records. A VHR eliminates a great deal of uncertainty regarding the used car because it will certainly reveal you if the automobile has actually been in any kind of mishaps or has actually already invested a great deal of time in the shop. Vehicle Background supplies a totally free fundamental record, however if you will drop a couple grand on a used vehicle, purchase a detailed record from CARFAX. You'll require the VIN number (usually discovered beneath the windshield on the driver's side). Pro suggestion: If the VIN number has been damaged off or eliminated, don't buy the auto. That's a big warning. Possibilities are, the secondhand vehicle has actually been taken or the seller is concealing something. 3. Determine the possession price. That's what you'll spend to preserve the vehicle (oil modifications, new tires, liquid purges) as well as what long-term fixings you must anticipate for the make and design you're taking a look at. You'll likewise require to understand the costs and availability of substitute parts since parts for some automobiles are extra costly than others. You can make use of Edmunds Real Price to Own device to get a great price quote. 4. Discover on-line discussion forums concentrated on the used cars and truck. Virtually every design has an online forum with strings extending back a great while. Seek common concerns that owners have had with the type of automobile you wish to get. 5. Check the automobile's recall history. Don't think the vendor has actually dealt with a used automobile's security recalls. Actually, over 70 million vehicles get on the roadway with open recalls on them.6 And yeah, you guessed it-- people still try to market those automobiles without getting the recall fixed. So what can you do? Examine the National Highway Web Traffic Administration for your automobile's recall background (if it has one). 6. Request an insurance quote. Used cars and trucks are normally less costly to guarantee than brand-new ones. Actually, a 5-year-old auto is about 14% less costly to insure than its brand-new equivalent.7 If you already have insurance, ask how much your premium will certainly alter if you buy a certain make and also model. Work with an independent insurance policy agent who will do the buying you. Tip 5: Inspect the Made Use Of Auto Yourself Even if you're not a mechanic, you can use this listing of advice from the Department of Motor Automobiles to check for signs of damage and misuse. While none of these things alone should quit you from acquiring the automobile (except for major damage, like a blown head gasket), a bunch of these can stop you from buying somebody else's cars and truck trouble. Under the Hood Examine the oil level as well as color. Oil dipsticks lie near the engine (generally a yellow stick). Oil must be light brown. If there's no oil in the engine, that's a good sign this is a bad deal. Check the shade of the oil under the oil cap (located on the engine). If it's milky-- what some mechanics call "mayonnaise"-- do not buy the used cars and truck. If the oil is milk like, it's combining with coolant, a common indication of a blown head gasket (in some cases a $3,500 fixing). Check the belts. Belts lie around the engine, occasionally on the engine's side, so you may need a flashlight for this action. Belts ought to be smooth with no fractures. Broken belts aren't a bargain breaker, but you'll require to replace them quickly. Examine the transmission liquid dipstick (generally a red stick). Transmission liquid ought to be pink or red. If it's black and also smells burned, that's a poor indication. Transmission replacements are costly, so if you locate that the vendor hasn't replaced the fluid in a while, reevaluate buying the used cars and truck. Check the degree of the coolant. It needs to be between minimum as well as optimum. The coolant tank is someplace near the radiator. If you can't find the reservoir, ask the seller where it's located. Caution: Don't open the coolant cap while the engine is hot or if the automobile is running. Check the brake fluid. Make sure it's at the highest level. Outdoors Check out the cars and truck's paint work. Look for damages and also scratches. Check the tires. They ought to all coincide (not mismatched), as well as they should have also put on across the width. Look for scuffs, splits and cuts along the sidewall. Check the spare tire too. Examine the tail pipeline. If it's black, that indicates the vehicle is shedding oil-- an additional poor indicator. Open and shut the doors, as well as the trunk, fuel door and gas cap. Ensure they all job. Inspect the lights. Ask the vendor to run the directional signal, fronts lights and brake lights as you make sure (outside the car) that they function. Inside Take a deep breath. If the cars and truck smells mildewy or if you see mold under the seats, there's a likelihood the car has water damage that could bring about expensive electric problems. If there's an air freshener or if the cars and truck scents suspiciously scented, open the windows and also leave them open as you examine drive the car. When you're done with the test drive, you'll have the ability to smell the car's natural scent. Check the endure the steering wheel, seats and also pedals. Minor wear can be anticipated-- particularly if it's an older cars and truck. Lock and also unlock all doors. Make sure they function. Check A/C as well as heating. Everybody takes these things for provided ... till they don't function. Idle the cars and truck and watch the temperature scale. You do not want to acquire a pre-owned vehicle that overheats. See to it the radiator followers kick on when the temperature starts increasing. Step 6: Opt For a Test Drive When you're taking the vehicle for your initial test-drive, turn off the stereo and ask your guests (perfectly) to stay peaceful so you can pay attention for any problems. Before you test-drive, choose a route with hills, bumps and, yep, even potholes. Even if you intend to make use of the automobile on highways and level roadways, examination the auto on harsh roads to get a feeling of just how it handles the roadway.

Utilize your test-drive to respond to these inquiries:

Feel Exactly how does it feel on level roads? Smooth or bumpy? Just how does it feel when it hits a bump or pothole? Does it rock aggressively? Does the auto battle to pick up speed? Do the equipments transform smoothly? Is the brake squishy or also delicate? How does your body really feel after the test drive? Was the seat uncomfortable?

Sound Does the engine sound smooth when you increase? Does the engine rattle, knock or grind when you still? Are there resonances or weird noises under the hood when you speed up over 60 MPH? Do the brakes squeak?

View Can you see out of the cars and truck easily? Do you need to stress your neck to check your blind spots? Does black smoke come out of the exhaust when you begin the car or increase? Is the RPM gauge constant when you idle? Does it rise and fall way too much?

Smell Transform the cooling to a modest setting. Do you scent burning oil? Action 7: Take the Made Use Of Vehicle to a Reliable Mechanic If the car has actually passed your individual examination, great. Currently allow's see if it passes the technician's examination. If the vendor does not want an auto mechanic to evaluate the vehicle, that's a negative sign. Constantly have a mechanic check a secondhand car, regardless of the condition. A great auto mechanic will inform if you will purchase a trustworthy previously owned cars and truck or if it has any type of issues.

When it pertains to assessments, you have two options:

Take the cars and truck to a trustworthy garage. Most cars and truck garages charge a flat charge for checking made use of automobiles. They'll place the automobile on the lift, check for corrosion and also corrosion, as well as tell you if the utilized auto has extreme fluid leakages. If you're working with a private seller who does not desire you to take the vehicle off his/her residential property, established a mobile assessment. A technician will pertain to the vehicle, execute the examination, and print out the results. If a technician tells you the car has problems that surpass its worth, kindly tell the vendor you're no longer interested, or utilize that knowledge to reduce the asking price. Tip 8: Usage Arrangement Skills If you have excellent factors to believe the vendor must decrease the asking cost, you can utilize everything you've just learned about utilized automobiles as ammo to work out a far better bargain. Arrangements can be tough for people who don't like to be confrontational. Bargain like a professional with these 3 ideas. 1. Bring your research to the table. Allow's say the vendor wants $3,000 for his previously owned Volkswagen Jetta. Kelley Directory claims the ordinary rate range for that Jetta is $2,800 to $3,000. But you observed that the tires are bald as well as a front lights does not function. And also you review online that this version has troubles with radiator followers. Your VHR reveals no owner has actually ever before replaced the radiator followers. Ah-ha! Now you have actually got something. Bring all this details to the seller-- factor in the cost of tires, a front lights and a radiator follower-- and supply less. 2. Pay in cash money. Inform the seller you'll be paying for your used car in cash money-- just don't expose how much money you have. When vendors sniff eco-friendly, they're most likely to agree on your terms. 3. Hold your horses. If the vendor does not budge, you can leave. You have all the acquiring power. Most of the moment, they need your money more than you require their vehicle.

This article is written by https://allamericanexporter.com/

#cars #usedcars #toyota #bmv

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years

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Intoxication (part 2)

(NSFW. Sexual content. 🔥🔥 Intense Hayffie experimenting with emotional drugs as an alternative to forced sobriety in District 13. Hayffie trying to have a sexual relationship without falling in love, and basically failing at the latter. The tattoo I created for Effie is revealed.)

“‘I’LL be her escort,’ he said. ‘I’LL look out for her,’ he said. ‘But I can’t promise she won’t get a scratch or two,’ ...Ha! The audacity to wink at me with those eyes and all the places they’ve been. How patronizing! Why did I expect HIM to keep ANY of those promises!” Effie ranted to herself as she paced her living quarters. She paused long enough to glance at her reflection in the small circular mirror. I’M the fool for trusting him.

It’s not like Effie would have escorted Katniss to District 2 or anywhere outside the relative safety of 13, but she should have INSISTED on... something. Though her heart knew that nothing was safe anymore.

“Thank god for Cinna. Still protecting our victor from beyond the grave. ...I hope somehow he’s in a better place than this.”

When the broadcast had shown Katniss shot down, Effie feared the worst, even knowing the design of the Mockingjay suit.

“What if one of those bullets had hit her neck? Her head? What if the loyalists had gunned down everyone in that tunnel?... Everyone except for Haymitch, of course. He’s preserved by a quarter century of alcohol. The only thing not bulletproof is his liver.” Her rant continued, but dark circles beneath her eyes told a more complex tale of worry. Effie hadn’t been able to sleep until they were back in 13.

She’d seen Katniss in the hospital. “Bruised ribs. A bruised lung! That child has already been bruised more than anyone should have to be in a lifetime. She deserves better. She will ALWAYS deserve better.”

Usually when Effie spoke to her ‘mirror on the wall’ about deserving things, she was thinking of herself, but not now. She realized — she believed — that she didn’t have the capacity to make the kinds of sacrifices required to be truly deserving.

She thought again of Cinna, wondering how his eyes had opened within the Capitol. She thought about her victors.

She had passed Haymitch in the hospital earlier without saying a word. She was angry with him for making promises that couldn’t be kept and angry with him for not keeping those impossible promises. She was more angry with herself for worrying about him and not being able to stop that feeling. And she was angry with herself for looking at him with her terror coated in the relief of seeing him unharmed.

She knew he’d recognized the look because he hadn’t pressed her for conversation. He’d let her walk away and fume by herself. Now she was angry too that he hadn’t followed her and angry with herself for thinking that he might have.

Even still, the knock on her door after an hour of pacing didn’t surprise her. She took her time opening it, glancing first in the mirror again. What am I doing? What am I even doing here?

She opened the door regardless. She didn’t stop herself. “What!?”

“Well, hello to you too, sweetheart.”

She didn’t ask him in, but she stepped to the side and left the door open. Familiar with Effie’s brand of agitation and nonsense, he saw the invitation for what it was. He ventured inside, sliding the door closed behind him.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

She pretended to busy herself with clothing and accessories on the table. “No.”

“Do you want to just be angry with me.”

“Yes.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

He stood beside her without touching. “What’s happening here?”

“Preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding...”

He captured her wrist and asked again, holding her pulse with his thumb. “No. What’s happening HERE?”

She tried to pull free, and he wouldn’t let go. “Haymitch!”

He stepped closer and loosened his grip. She didn’t withdraw her hand; she let him touch her, feeling exactly what her heart was doing. “Damn you.” She looked in his eyes this time and saw the reflection of her own intensity.

The wildness came out all at once and they were kissing. It wasn’t calm or familiar like the night before the Quarter Quell. This was not about comfort.

She bit his lip. Inadvertently? It didn’t matter. His mouth was rough with her too.

The bite stung. He tasted the metallic flavor on her tongue. His blood or hers? That didn’t matter either.

“Where?” he asked, “These bunks are so damn small.”

She knew what he was asking. “Anywhere... everywhere.”

He shoved her against a wall, “Haymitch! These walls are thin. The neighbors will hear.”

“The floor then,” he said, unbuttoning her shirt.

“The floor!? We’re not animals!”

“Yeah, we are,” he muttered into her mouth. She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t contradict him.

“The table,” he suggested.

“Civilized people EAT there.”

“Fine!” He let go of her, frustrated and in the frustration he just wanted her more. “This was a bad idea anyway.”

His irritation was erotic, and there’s no way she was letting this feeling go to waste. She positioned herself between him and the door. “If this is a bad idea, then why does it feel so good? ...Stay.”

The boiling reduced to a simmer. He reached behind her to make sure the door had latched. Then he pinned her against it, and methodically began taking off her clothes, starting with the turban. He interrupted her objection, “Shhh. No talking.”

Her hair fell to her shoulders, and he leaned in to smell it. “This is my favorite part of you.”

“Well, don’t get used to it.”

“We’ll see.”

“There are other parts of me you’re going to like more.”

Unbuttoning more of her shirt, he glimpsed a tattoo below her left breast. — a red tree branch scattered with colorful leaves shaped like feathers. The colors were natural: a bluebird rather than Caesar’s former hair, morning sky before rain rather than cotton candy. The branch curved with her breast and continued somewhere within her shirt. He traced the curve. “What do we have here?” Wanting more of her breasts could wait a moment.

“Something one of a kind.”

Like you. He didn’t say. Instead he pushed her shirt to the floor, wanting to see the rest. The branch transitioned into red ribbons, flowing and crisscrossing down her side and disappearing into the waistband of her pants. He tugged those to her hips, far enough to trace the ribbons which crossed the small of her back, hugging more of her curves. The ribbons separated at her spine, ending in a tiny pair of dancing shoes in the hollow of her sacrum.

“Jesus, Effie...” Capitol people are known for tattoos, but this one was unexpected. He wanted everything with her at once. “... I want to fuck you.”

“Shhh,” she mimicked his earlier statement, “No talking. ...It’s my turn.”

To hell with buttons. She pulled up his shirt, and he lifted his arms to encourage. The shirt caught on his chin, so she yanked it until it was free. It fell to the floor with hers.

“Are you trying to take my head off?”

“That depends on which head.” She toyed with the button of his pants.

He pulled her to him, unhooking her bra, stripping it away, and learning the shape of her breasts in his palms. Kissing her again would have meant taking his eyes off her body, and he didn’t want to do that yet. Without an alcohol-induced haze, everything was sharp along the edges, including his desire for her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d experienced this quality of feeling. How much of this could he say without saying too much. Then again, maybe they were better off not talking.

The fine hair on his chest and stomach tickled her, gold and silver. Her smile wouldn’t stop.

“You’re beautiful,” he caressed her cheeks.

She knew.

“I’m a sure thing tonight, sweetheart,” she teased him with his sarcastic endearment.

He knew.

Still, he wanted this to stay as good as it felt right now. It had been longer for him than he cared to admit since the last time he’d had sex, and maybe the only time in 25 years that he wasn’t doing this drunk. Plus this was the first time with Effie. They’d been dancing around it for quite a while, and he wanted it good.

“Come here.” He lead her to one of the bunks. This time she didn’t object to the location. He could have fucked her against the door, as ready as she was.

They stripped down pants. His body was gorgeous. She stroked him in lieu of telling him so. “I don’t usually do this naked,” she said.

“And I don’t usually do this sober,” he admitted. His sexual experiences with women were usually just for him. The other wasn’t particularly relevant. But Effie was relevant, even when she was ignoring him. As her strokes turned to tugs. She definitely was not ignoring him.

He grabbed her waist and lifted her up onto the bunk. She wrapped her legs around his back, keeping him in front of her.

He kissed along the length of her tattoo from her breast to her hip, then slid his hand along the curves of the rest, stroking where he knew those dancing shoes lived in the hollow of her sacrum.

Why the shoes? He wondered without asking. He’d ask her later if she didn’t tell him first.

He rested his forehead against her chest and slid his palms up her thighs to the apex. He brushed against her with his thumbs circling.

She hadn’t expected this gentleness. Like this, he terrified her. She was too full of feeling.

“How do you want this, sweetheart?”

Keep going, exactly like this, she thought, but she denied the impulse. “Rough and impersonal,” she said, “...I don’t want to fall for you.”

He met her gaze, surprised again. She was pleading, but he kept touching her the same, even more tenderly. “Rough I can do, but not falling for me is up to you. I can’t make any promises.”

“That’s exactly why this can’t be too personal.” She said it with her hands behind his neck, stroking his hairline with her fingertips. Her touch tingled down his arms and legs and to his groin. He wondered if he could come like this, with just her hands in his hair.

This was personal. She was right. This wasn’t the time to fall for anybody, especially a Capitol girl who he knew all too well to be irritating as hell and now incredibly attractive in nakedness.

Effie moaned softly. “Are you going to fuck me or make me come in your hands because I’m close, honey.”

They needed to switch this up. Like now.

“Get on your knees,” he told her.

She hesitated, not used to men making demands of her.

“...If you want this rough, then get on your knees.”

She lifted her legs onto the bunk, and complied. He was quickly behind her grazing the length of her tattoo with his palm, and teasing her before slipping inside, all the way to her cervix.

The fit was perfect, curving to just the right spot. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying so, but her body betrayed her, with pleasure building so fast.

He clutched her hips, digging in and moving with a force that she certainly couldn’t call gentle. The ribbons of her tattoo danced in his hand. It was such a turn on, and curiosity got the better of him, “Why the red shoes.”

“To remind me that I make my own life... Oh, god... Haymitch...”

“‘God,’ works just fine, sweetheart,” he taunted as she clenched around him.

“Oh, you arrogant fuck... Oh, god...” she couldn’t help but say it again.

He reached around her body and flicked the sweet spot, without tenderness.

In the mix of pleasure and pain, she exploded with an intensity that wouldn’t be a secret from her neighbors after all.

“Honey, I like the way you make your own life,” he groaned, caressing the image of those tiny red shoes in the hollow at the base of her spine. It was erotic — the bit of gentleness that he couldn’t resist offering, the feeling of her skin, his sober awareness of her orgasm, the way her hair brushed against her neck as he moved inside her.

This was personal. This was just as personal as looking into her eyes. It wasn’t the how of it. It was her.

He tried to make it last because maybe this was a one time thing and this was all he’d have of her. And maybe they would be better off that way.

He didn’t think to ask, is this okay? This felt so much better than okay. He didn’t think to ask, where should I come? All at once it was just happening, and inside her was the only place he wanted to be. The release was almost better than liquor on his tongue, down his throat, into his veins. For a moment she was the best thing he’d felt.

As he came down from the high and his body eased, he could feel her crying.

Shit. He pulled out and lay beside her.

“Hey.” His voice was tender now. Screw what she’d said about the need for roughness. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head ‘no’ and laid it beside his.

He wiped his thumb across her cheeks catching her tears.

“I thought you might be dead,” she said, “Both of you. When Katniss was shot and the transmission stopped. I couldn’t know what was happening, and I thought maybe...”

“I’m here.” He kissed her cheeks, tasting salt and faint flowers, like a remnant of the froofy Capitol cocktail she used to be, and like what he imagined of the seashore. He wondered if she’d ever been there.

“We’re a team. ...I don’t want to lose you.”

He slid his hand up her spine and held her with their foreheads touching. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

Shit. This was so goddamn personal. They gave into the desire to let it be so. Who kissed who first was irrelevant. There was no clashing of teeth or tasting blood — just silk, like feathery leaves and ribbons, and dangerous words they thought but didn’t say.

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kuresinger27 · 3 months

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The Essential Guide to Hiring the Right Plumber for Your Home

The Essential Guideline to Hiring the proper Plumber for Your Home Discovering the right plumber for your home can be a daunting task. After all, you need someone who is usually not only skilled and dependable but also reliable and inexpensive. With so many options obtainable, how do you know which plumber is definitely the right in shape for you Dread not! In this important guideline, we will walk you through the steps to employing the right plumber for your home, making sure that your plumbing needs are met with expertise and performance. 1. Begin with Recommendations: When it comes to selecting a plumber, word-of-mouth suggestions can be a valuable source. Request your friends, family members, and neighbors if they possess had positive encounters with any neighborhood plumbers. Take notice of their recommendations and produce a list of potential candidates to further investigate. 2. Analysis and Qualifications: Once you have a list of potential plumbers, it's period to perform some research. Look up their websites, check online reviews, and see what credentials and certifications they have. A reputable plumber should have the necessary licenses, insurance, and certifications to perform plumbing function in your region. 3. Check for Encounter: Experience is usually another crucial factor to consider when employing a plumber. While brand-new plumbers might end up being qualified, an experienced professional will possess came across a wider range of domestic plumbing issues and will likely have a more extensive knowledge foundation to pull from. Look for plumbers who have been in business for several years and have a proven track record of effectively completing projects comparable to your needs. 4. Obtain Multiple Rates: Before making a final decision, it's essential to obtain multiple quotations from different plumbers. Broken pipe This will give you a sense of the average price for your project and help you determine any unusually high or low quotes. But remember, it's not constantly about locating the cheapest option. Consider the status, experience, and dependability of each plumber alongside their prices. 5. Request for References: To obtain a better understanding of a plumber's work ethic and professionalism and reliability, don't hesitate to inquire for recommendations. A reputable plumber will be even more than ready to provide you with the get in touch with information of history clients who can vouch for their quality of work. Reach out to these references and talk to about their general knowledge, timeliness, and satisfaction with the plumber's provider. 6. Conversation is Crucial: Effective communication is usually crucial when hiring a plumber. You wish someone who listens to your problems, answers your queries promptly, and continues you up to date throughout the project. Pay attention to the level of responsiveness and clarity in their conversation, as this may be indicative of their reliability and professionalism. 7. Trust Your Gut: Finally, trust your intuition. If something seems off or you possess reservations about a particular plumber, it's greatest to move on and continue your search. Hiring someone to work in your home requires a level of trust, thus it's essential to feel comfy and self-confident in your choice. Right now that you possess a solid foundation on how to hire the right plumber for your home, let's delve into some additional topics to help you produce an informed decision. From common plumbing problems to tips for preserving your plumbing system, we've got you protected. 1. Common Plumbing Problems: Plumbing issues are an unavoidable component of homeownership. From leaky faucets and clogged drains to burst pipes and water heating unit malfunctions, there are a range of common plumbing problems that you may encounter. Knowing these problems early on may save you period, money, and head aches down the line. By understanding the symptoms and possible causes of these problems, you may better communicate with your plumber and guarantee that they address the main of the issue successfully. 2. The Importance of Regular Maintenance: Just like any other program in your home, your plumbing program requires regular maintenance to maintain it running easily. Neglecting maintenance may lead to expensive repairs and potential damage to your house. Simple jobs such as examining for leaks, washing drains, and insulating pipes during colder weeks can go a long method in preventing major plumbing related disasters. Regular maintenance also allows you to capture minor issues before they escalate into bigger complications. 3. Eco-Friendly Plumbing related Solutions: With the increasing concentrate on sustainability, it's zero wonder that eco-friendly domestic plumbing solutions are getting recognition. From setting up low-flow accessories and water-saving toilets to opting for energy-efficient drinking water heaters, there are numerous ways to reduce your water usage and minimize your environmental impact. Not just will eco-friendly domestic plumbing solutions help you conserve on your drinking water expenses, but they will also contribute to a greener and even more sustainable future. 4. Crisis Plumbing Providers: Plumbing emergencies can strike at any period, often causing anxiety and stress. Knowing what to perform in these circumstances and having a reliable crisis plumber on hands is crucial. Whether it's a burst pipe, a sewer back-up, or a malfunctioning water heater, having a professional who may quickly respond and deal with the issue can produce all the difference in minimizing damage and obtaining your home back to regular. 5. DIY vs. Professional Plumbing: While there are certain plumbing tasks that you may tackle on your own, it's essential to understand when to contact in a professional. Minor fixes such as repairing a leaky faucet or clearing a blocked drain can often be DIY projects, provided you possess the necessary tools and knowledge. However, more complex problems such as dealing with mainline blockages, extensive pipe repairs, or sewer range replacements are best left to the specialists. Attempting these fixes without the proper skillset can business lead to further damage and costly fixes in the long operate. In summary, hiring the right plumber for your home is necessary to ensure that your plumbing needs are fulfilled efficiently and successfully. By pursuing the steps layed out in this guideline, you can confidently navigate the employing process and find a plumber who can be reliable, trustworthy, and competent. Remember, analysis and inquire for recommendations, check for qualifications and experience, obtain multiple quotations, communicate effectively, and trust your gut. Equipped with this knowledge and understanding of common domestic plumbing problems, maintenance suggestions, eco-friendly solutions, emergency solutions, and the range between DIY and professional domestic plumbing, you'll be well-equipped to deal with any plumbing circumstance that comes your way. So, go forth and find the great plumber for your house, knowing that you're producing a wise and up to date decision.

#plumber #plumbers near me #emergency plumber near me #plumbers in my area

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sortinghatchats · 4 years

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On Gryffindor Primaries

Gryffindors are marked by their steadfast intuitive morality. While Gryffindors are just as capable of looking at things logically and weighing the consequences of different courses of action, they will feel the most at peace with themselves when acting in accordance with their gut morality. Like all individual belief systems, Gryffindors’ vary widely in content and intensity, giving us a wide variety of systems (strong political stances, devotion to a particular religion, extreme commitment to a particular branch of rights) so different Gryffindors can look very different.

One of the Gryffindor Primary’s greatest strengths is their ability to make a decision, and then go out and do their damndest to make a difference. They are willing to sacrifice their safety, social harmony, and a certain amount of logic to do what they feel is right. They can create great change in the world because they are willing to make difficult decisions and then commit fully to that decision, even at the expense of things most other people would not be willing to sacrifice.

Gryffindor Primaries are the type to leave everything and travel halfway across the world if that’s what they feel is necessary. They are the type to work long days and into the night, even while conscious of the hit their relationships with family members and friends might take, because their work is important. It matters in a way that smaller things, even when those things seem important in the moment, don’t. They are one of the Houses most comfortable, as a whole, with being lone wolves, with finding meaning in martyrdom, and with defying even the people they love most, if something is important enough.

However, though a Gryffindor can and will work alone, there is a special strength brought out when they’re part of a team. They can be charismatic and passionate, dedicated and on task, excellent at reminding people what it is they are working towards and how important it is. Their drive can help breathe life into a group on the verge of burnout. Their enthusiasm and genuine belief in the goodness of their goals can unify a group of diverse people. There’s a reason that so many movies about rebellions feature Gryffindor protagonists. They are willing, passionately, to sacrifice and their certainty pulls others along behind them.

Gryffindors do not know the definitions of good and evil any more accurately than any other House– more importantly, most Gryffindors know they don’t know any more than anyone else. But inherent fallibility doesn’t mean you should sit on your heels and not try the best you can (if the idea of inherent fallibility does drive you to existential despair and hopelessness, please take a look at Stripped Gryffindor, below). Gryffindor is not about knowing– it’s about knowing that the best way to know is to trust yourself and your gut. It’s the bravery to try and it’s knowing that trying matters. It’s about trusting yourself even if the whole world is against you. At the end of the day, the most important thing is staying true to this thing inside you and standing tall.

Even within a single belief system the intuitive nature of the Gryffindor morality means that it can often contradict itself–two important, felt beliefs can go to war even in the most certain Gryffindor, and each has to find their own way out of that conflict. Eventually, one of the core beliefs (ex. “sentient life has inherent value” v. “self defense is a right”; or “lying is wrong” v. “hurting people is bad, and the truth will hurt this person”) will win out. Alternatively, the conflict, sustained, might force a Gryffindor to “strip” (see below).

Relationship with the Secondary

Another facet of Gryffindor is that while they often have a gut response to what is right, what to do about it is a little harder. This of course ties into the Secondary– a Gryffindor/Gryffindor might feel obligated to act on their morality, if not immediately than at least fiercely. Sometimes hesitation is wise, but to the Gryffindor Secondary it still feels like it could be hiding cowardice, and they watch themselves carefully to make sure they aren’t shirking.

A Ravenclaw Secondary might feel they have a moral imperative to gather information and figure out risks before launching into something that might get someone hurt– the Gryffindor Secondary’s charge would feel irresponsible to the Ravenclaw Secondary.

A Puff Secondary might do their good through patience, service, or support; a Slytherin Secondary could reach out clever fingers and change the very world into something better, or throw themselves at problems to see what sticks.

In all of these, however, there is going to be doubt. Doing right and doing well is imperative to the Gryffindor Primary–but that certainty and that need to act doesn’t necessarily come with a how-to guide attached.

Many Gryffindors compulsively self-analyze and re-check what they are doing and believing, to make sure it still rings true– when this self-questioning turns to despairing self-doubt instead, this is called “stripping” (see below section). But even an unstripped Gryffindor has to check new circumstances, questions, and paths against what they feel. They can be as logical and meditative about it as some Ravenclaw Primary tackling a new facet of their morality; but at the end of the day a Gryffindor will trust their gut, once they manage to understand what it is saying. A Ravenclaw, on principle, won’t, and won’t feel comfortable until they strip open that base intuition.

It’s one of the places where Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, often good Idealist allies, come into conflict. When a Ravenclaw feels a need to point every belief with a pointed stick, a Gryffindor can see this as challenge, meanness, betrayal, amorality, or dangerous doubt.

What’s Inside is What Counts

Gryffindor Primaries are willing to stand up for what they believe in even if it means that they stand alone; but this is not to imply that Gryffindor Primaries don’t care about their friends and family– they are first and foremost loyal to their morals, but that can absolutely include people. If part of their system involves serving or protecting, or involves maintaining closeness and caring for their friends (or involves personal loyalty as a general concept), they will do it with great conviction. And this isn’t uncommon, as Gryffindors can often value people and fairness very highly, and can for this reason sometimes look like Hufflepuffs.

Just like the Gryffindor Primary’s intuitive morality can include people, looking like a Hufflepuff’s, it can also include things like Slytherin’s sense of self-preservation and value. On a negative extreme, this can give you Gryffindor Primaries like Jayne Cobb, the self-serving, guiltless mercenary of Firefly. But this same situation (a Gryffindor who intuits some of Slytherin’s “me first” morality) can also give you examples of heroes who remember to value their own mental and physical health, even when the world needs saving. Selflessness is not a requirement in the Gryffindor Primary; the core of Gryffindor is more accurately trusting yourself and your beliefs and doing your best to live by them. It about holding onto that faith in yourself and striving for the bravery to pursue those beliefs to hell and back, however mundane or ambitious those beliefs might be.

What defines a Gryffindor is not the contents of their system, but they way they form and interact with their system. Because of that, it’s possible to get systems that look nearly identical to the other Primary houses– just like a Ravenclaw Primary might build each of the other Primaries to live in, a Gryffindor might intuit, feel, or believe in those other moralities. Carlos, the scientist from Welcome to Night Vale, is a Gryffindor Primary believes unflinchingly in the power and righteousness of Science (capitalization intentional). Even presented with a world of absurdist horror-comedy where empirical logic and experimentation seem to be failing him, Carlos doesn’t tailspin into a fall or at least express frustration or edit his system the way a Ravenclaw Primary would be likely to. He believes in the power of Science despite being thrust into a reality where science, quite honestly, does not function as it should. And beautiful Carlos does it because Science is just right.

You could get similar effects with both Hufflepuff and Slytherin systems, like we discussed above. Modeling the Slytherin system could also give Gryffindors the intense sense of personal loyalty that drives the loyalist Slytherin Primary, as well as its particular brand of selfishness. People are a likely part of the content of moral systems because we live in a social world, but they are not intrinsic to the system of a Gryffindor like they are for Hufflepuff and Slytherin Primaries, our Loyalist houses. One way to tell a Hufflepuff or Slytherin apart from a Gryffindor who believes in Puff or Slytherin is to look at whether or not people could theoretically be removed from the system without “burning” or “petrifying.”

If you could convince a loyalist-seeming Gryffindor that doing the right thing for the people in their lives or in the world is not actually the greatest good, then would they be able to change that part of their system and still be happy with it? If something else is more right, would they feel justified in overriding the part of their system that values their people? The answer is probably ‘yes’ for a Gryffindor, but it would be ‘no’ for a Hufflepuff or a Slytherin. While even the Loyalists have their extreme situations where the world would take priority over their people, they would still feel, on some level, like they were doing the wrong thing for not putting their people first. Gryffindors would feel, on some level, wrong if they put their people over what was right.

No Room for Compromise?

For Gryffindors, especially the less jaded ones, in the things that they hold true there is very little (if any) gray area. There is right and there is wrong. Things are black and white. Shades of gray are places where people go to play games, twist the truth, and to be cowards. It’s difficult to change the mind of a Gryffindor when it comes to something they care about, because they often cannot see the in-between. To the Gryffindor, changing their mind would feel like a 180 degree shift, an about-face. It would mean deciding that their previously held views were absolutely and completely wrong, and now they have to go in the opposite direction.

And when a Gryffindor does change their mind on an issue they care about, while it may seem very sudden to an outside observer, it’s very likely that there was a steady build up of doubts or contradictions that eventually tipped the scales. In many cases, a change in belief can be somewhat traumatic for the Gryffindor (see: Stripped Gryffindor, below).

Gryffindors have great conviction, and the prominence of what they are passionate about in the world means they spend more time confronting it and learning to deal with it. Slytherins, for all their reputation as cold and ruthless, can find their judgement just as clouded as the most enraged Gryffindor when their people are threatened. It’s just a fairly rare thing in most people’s lives for their important people to be placed directly in harm’s way– so it doesn’t have as large an impact on how they present. But for a Gryffindor, threats of that severity, threats to the things most important to them, are commonplace.

This gives Gryffindor a reputation for volatility, much like the Slytherin reputation for ambition. All the Houses believe things strongly (just like all Houses have their ambitions), but with its broad, internal morality Gryffindor is most likely to have things they are passionate about thrown in their faces (just as Slytherin’s ambitions look least selfless and are therefore more generally maligned). Ravenclaw Primaries are more likely to chew over things first and to take outside input into their system, Hufflepuffs more likely to worry about hurting other people’s feelings, and Slytherins more likely not to care. You can have rampaging Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, or Slytherins easily, but Gryffindors are often most obvious when they stand fast and are indiscriminate about whose toes they step on if something is important enough.

Of course, the Gryffindor Primary system is just that– a system. The way we’re talking about it, Gryffindor is a way you care and a way your system works, and is not based on the contents of your system. Justice and bravery and courage are things that make up the moral backbone of a system that can contain just about anything. Gryffindors will disagree about what is just. Gryffindors will be on different sides of big moral issues and philosophical quandaries and political debates. What unites them is how they decide what’s right: they feel it in their gut, they value living in that rightness above all other things, and they trust themselves to lead them true (or at least lead them to do their very best).

So what happens when a Gryffindor loses faith in their ability to figure out what’s right?

Burned Gryffindors

Gryffindors do not do moderation when it comes to the truth. This, sometimes, can be what leads a Gryffindor Primary to become “burned.” Jostled from their steady footing, a Gryffindor can lose faith not in right and wrong, but in their ability to know what is right and wrong. Their internal compass, the basis for their understanding, sense of purpose, and even sense of worth, will feel broken and untrustworthy. But that uncertainty doesn’t make knowing and acting on what’s right and what’s wrong any less important.

From the outside, Burned Gryffindors often look more grounded, stable, and calm than your classic Gryffindor Primary. They’re more likely to let things they cannot fix just pass them by. If they charge, it is not often. (In fact, when you see a Burned Gryffindor encountering something so important that they are willing to charge for it–um, run. Run fast.)

But for the Gryffindor, Burning is not a steadying act, no matter how it seems to outward observers. Gryffindor is a house of certainty. Gryffindor is a house of right and wrong, and of those truths requiring action. When a Gryffindor is Burned, their sense of right and wrong is yanked out of their gut. They lose the certainty of their moral compass.

What makes Burning so horrifying to the Gryffindor is not that they lose their sense of the importance of right and wrong– it’s that they don’t lose that sense. A Burned Gryffindor is still certain that following their internal compass is important. They just can’t see it anymore; they don’t know if they’re heading north, but even now few things are more important than where north might be.

One response to stripping is for a Gryffindor to pick up another, external system. If they are bereft of their own internal morality, they can re-apply their fervency to an outward one. In this, Burned Gryffindors often look like Ravenclaw Primaries– but where it would take new evidence and careful debate to move a Ravenclaw Primary from a system they’ve chosen, a Gryffindor is more likely to move due to a sudden insight or gut intuition– an uncontrived emotional response; a return to trusting their own heart.

Whedon’s Firefly contains two Burned Gryffindor Primaries who latch onto outward systems–and (as is common with Burned Gryffs) both characters indeed seem to be some of the most settled, content characters on the show: Zoe Washburn and Sheppard Book. Zoe Burned sometime during the war; and Book sometime during his checkered past. Both have latched onto outward moralities: Book onto his religion, and Zoe onto her captain. She lets Mal make the calls because at this point she trusts his weary Hufflepuff more than her own self.

A Burned Gryffindor might try to construct themselves a functioning system (rather than picking up a pre-made one wholesale) from the actions and instincts that drove them before their traumas. They might also latch onto a community, or family, and then work under a loyalist-style morality of people-first. They might also curl up and close in on themselves. They might go out and keep fighting the good fight, keep going through the braveries and charges they used to intuit heart and soul, but now with a weary doubt that any of it will actually be right or worthwhile.

Kieren, the protagonist of In the Flesh, is a Burned Gryffindor– his compass cracked before being a zombie and then shattered completely during zombieism. Now, with his mind returned to him, he looks at his ruins and repeats what the rehab people tell him. He is adrift. Friends help to push him back together, but an unmoored uncertainty remains at the core of Kieren’s character.

Jaime, the supporting protagonist of Outlander, is a Gryffindor who Burned after various traumas. He does his best to act with kindness, and goes after bravery in a way that hinges on the smilingly self-destructive. However, interaction with fierce Ravenclaw Primary/Gryffindor Secondary protagonist Claire manages to inspire him enough that he begins pulling himself hand-by-hand out of being Burned in order to charge alongside her.

All of these ways of Burned can be functional. Being Burned is something you can survive, live with, and even thrive within. Burning can feel practical or necessary or it can feel forced; but at the core of being Burned is a sense of loss. Even if the Gryffindor is sure that the world is an inherently unjust place, unsaveable and destined to never be understood, they are still a Gryffindor. Some part of them is going to always prefer and miss a world where they knew what they were supposed to be doing.

tl;dr Gryffindor Primaries

Gryffindor is an Intuitive House, an Idealist House, and an Internal House.

As an Intuitive House, Gryffindors decide what is right based on their intuition, their gut, and their own moral compass. While they can be as intelligent and logical as any Ravenclaw (think Hermione Granger, a fierce Gryffindor Primary), they don’t play with words and concepts, trying to find loopholes, build things, or refute their instincts. Some things are just wrong, and you can’t talk your way out of it.

As an Idealist House, Gryffindors value what is right over personal loyalty. While they can love hard, Gryffindors would feel guilty if they stuck by their friends and family at the expense of doing what they believe in. Driven and dedicated, Gryffindors are some of the best at getting things done and pushing causes forward, even at great personal sacrifice.

As an Internal House, Gryffindors get their morality from inside of themselves-- from their moral compass and intuition. Caving to an outside pressure will always feel like an immoral choice, if it goes against what they feel is true.

#sorting hat chats #sortinghatchats #gryffindor

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qm-vox · 5 years

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Let The World Never Falter - Playing Paladins in D&D

(Pictured: Anastasia Luxan, Knight of the Tainted Cup, one of only two people in her friend group that are not evil-aligned. Her wife Aisling is not the other good-aligned person. Characters are from my novel Mourners: Scum of Shatterdown; art credit goes to J.D)

Paladins are one of Dungeons and Dragons’ most striking, and most controversial, character classes. Few character classes and character concepts capture the imagination as quickly or start arguments of such ferocity. I’ve been in this game awhile - I remember when D&D 3e was released - and paladins have been one of my most loved and most hated parts of D&D and its legacy systems that entire time. So here I am again, about to write a long-ass article offerin’ my perspective on paladins through the ages (hopefully highlighting the strongest parts of each vision of them), talk about their pitfalls and problematic elements, and offer some advice on bringing your own paladin to life.

While this article draws on my long experience with D&D and will be citing specific sources, it would not be possible without the help of some other people in my life. I mention Afroakuma a lot in the context of D&D, and our friendship has once again been invaluable here. @a-world-unmasked , also one of my oldest friends, has long been a source of ethical discussion and debate, especially about thorny questions of justice & mercy, amends, redemption, and punishment, and provided information on D&D 4e’s paladins and paladin-like classes. SSG Jacob Karpel, United States Army, brought a Jewish perspective on paladins and their themes into my life and has borne questions of faith, dogma, and tradition with remarkable enthusiasm and patience. @swiftactionrecovery provided further perspective on D&D 4e, and her current paladin (”paladin”; it’s complicated), Aurora, is a great example of a non-traditional take that is at the same time very on-brand. Emerald has long provided the service of beating my ass when I start getting stupid about my own values and beliefs, and @ahr42p‘s fascination with fantasy ethics has informed a lot of my own thoughts on the same. None of this would be possible without you folks.

This article’s title is drawn from Maverick Hunter Quest, written by Cain Labs & Hunter Command. It appears as the motto of the 10th Urban Unit; dedicated soldiers whose specialty was preserving lives, preventing collateral damage, and steering disasters away from the innocent.

None of my articles are quite complete without Content Warnings; the following will contain mentions and descriptions of violence (including state-sanctioned violence such as executions), mentions of high crimes such as slavery and forced conversion, discussion of religion in both fictional and non-fictional contexts, and discussion of fascism and fascist ideology. It is also the end result of more than 20 years of both passionate love for paladins and equally passionate hatred of the same. If you’re wondering what some of that has to do with paladins...well, you’re in for a ride.

So, without further ado, let’s get into...

The Order Of The Kitchen Table - Paladins Through D&D’s History

I hope you like walls of text because I am about to fuck you up with some.

D&D and Pathfinder have a long history with paladins, and they’ve changed a lot through the ages. The following is an overview of the different editions of paladins, what each introduced, and their strengths & weaknesses as a vision of paladinhood. Though the advice in this article is weighted towards 3.PF and 5e, it should in theory be applicable to any of these editions; I should also note that while Pathfinder 2e has its own version of paladins, I am not familiar enough with its vision of paladins to be able to speak on it in good faith. Let’s start with the oldest first, shall we?

AD&D 1e & 2e: Rise A Knight - 1e and 2e were fucking wild. The original incarnation of the paladin showed up as a sub-class of the cavalier, a warrior-group class which had an aura of courage, rode a horse, and had other ‘knightly’ abilities. Paladins had to be a cut above and beyond cavaliers, but unless they also violated the code of the cavaliers in addition to the paladin code, they would become cavaliers when they Fell rather than fighters, which was a bit of a better spot to be in. These paladins were very specifically part of the military arm of a feudal state, with all that entails, and had restrictions on what they could wear and what weapons they could use that were rooted in their social status. In point of fact, in 1e? Paladins couldn’t use missile weapons at all; bows, crossbows, and their kin were for “peasants”. These paladins had to tithe 10% of all income to a ‘worthy’ institution (usually a Lawful Good church of some kind, but other examples include hospitals, charitable initiatives, orphanages, and monasteries), had sharp limits on how many magical items they could own & of what kind, and were beholden to a strict code of conduct rooted in medieval feudalism & romantic ideals of chivalry. While the very original paladin had many of the iconic powers associated with them today (laying on hands, curing disease, an affinity for holy swords), it was not until AD&D 1e proper that paladins developed the ability to cast spells for themselves.

AD&D 2e’s vision of paladins was similar in many ways; they had the same powers, similar ability score requirements, and were similarly rare and elite. They had wealth limits, had to tithe from their income, could only own certain numbers and kinds of magical items, and had to be of Lawful Good alignment. Where things get interestingly different here is who becomes a paladin, and why. In both editions, only humans could be paladins, but where 1e required paladins to be drawn from or else become nobility (because they were derived from cavalier, which was all about status), 2e opened up many origins for paladins. The majority of these can be found in The Complete Paladin’s Handbook, just under 130 pages of nothing but paladins. Reading that book is a fucking trip; it was published in 1994, and while I am not gonna pretend that it’s woke or unproblematic, it has some stunningly modern takes. Do you expect to open up an old D&D supplement about paladins and find it defending poly relationships as valid? NEITHER DID I.

It’s important to note that in both of these editions, paladins lacked magical avenues of attack entirely; Smite Evil was a later invention, and paladin spells, in addition to coming online late in their career (9th level), were sharply restricted to a specific list that included no offensive magic whatsoever. Therefore, any paladin origin had to explain from whence one’s martial skills came, since you are in many ways a warrior more than anything else. There’s some expected ones; religious patronage, which ignores social status but requires an organized church that’s permitted to raise men under arms. Government sponsorship, generally conducted in urban areas where you can actually retain recruiters. Inherited title, if you wanna run a paladin that really hates Mom for forcing them into this. Mentors, for running paladins that are just straight-up shonen protagonists, and my personal favorite, DIVINE INTERVENTION, where one day your god starts talking to you but instead of filling your soul with martial skill she makes you sew training weights into your clothes and miraculously makes a bear live in your house so you can learn courage. It’s fucking amazing.

From those origins, anyone who manages to swear their oath and become invested with the power is essentially part of the nobility from then on; paladinhood marks them as an exemplar of noble ideals, which even in a non-romanticized culture sorta grabs the bluebloods by the short hairs. It’s a bit hard to argue divine right if you try to throw the embodiment of your supposed ideals out of your house. Since these paladins were often, though not necessarily, members of militant organizations they were generally expected to have superiors to whom they answer, a chain of command of which they are part, and to eventually construct a stronghold of some kind and put its services at the disposal of that organization in addition to utilizing it to serve the needy and defend the weak. 2e was a lawless and strange time in D&D, in which building such a stronghold and hiring followers was a class feature of warrior-group classes, and one of the paladin’s key benefits was the opportunity, but not the promise, to acquire some manner of holy sword, which which she gained powerful protections against evil that let her stand toe-to-toe with powerful spellcasters.

Tying all of this together was an in-depth exploration of the most complex and probably the most nuanced code published for paladins in any edition. Though the default was a rigid and inflexible code which defined acceptable behavior, associations, and even employees for the paladin, The Complete Paladin’s Handbook introduced an alternate method of handling code violations that ranked infractions by their severity & intent, and assigned penalties accordingly. Was it perfect? No. Not even a little. The Code was, is, and probably forever will be the most trash part of paladin. But it was a damn sight better than basically any incarnation before it, and most of them after. This code was broken down into (in order of importance), Strictures, Edicts, and Virtues. Strictures are the things a paladin must do and have simply to be a paladin; they must be Lawful Good, they must tithe to a worthy institution, they must abide by their wealth limits, and they must not associate (here meaning ‘serve, be friends with, or knowingly hire’) with evil people. Edicts are the commands of those to whom the paladin is sworn to obey; often this will be a church, a government, or both, but a paladin might instead or also swear to obey edicts given by their family, their mentor, their secular philosophy, or even their wider culture. Military commands and orders are edicts, but so are daily practices such as keeping a kosher diet, maintaining a family burial ground, or obeying a system of formal etiquette. A paladin freely chooses the source of her edicts, but once she’s sworn to obey she cannot selectively turn down a given edict unless it would conflict with one of her Strictures (for instance, if her king orders her to beat a helpless prisoner) or with a ‘higher’ source of Edicts (in general, a paladins religion or philosophy takes precedence over her liege or mentor, who in turn takes precedence over family or culture).

Virtues are where we get real interesting. Lemme quote The Complete Paladin’s Handbook, page 32:

Virtues are traits exemplifying the highest standards of morality, decency, and duty. They comprise the paladin’s personal code. Although not specifically detailed in the PH definition of a paladin, a paladin’s virtues are implied by his strictures as well as his outlook, role, and personality. Just as a paladin must obey his strictures, he must also remain true to his virtues.

Though most paladins adhere to all of the virtues described below, exceptions are possible. For instance, a paladin from a primitive society may be so unfamiliar with civilized etiquette that including courtesy as part of his ethos would be unreasonable. All adjustments must be cleared by the DM at the outset of a paladin’s career.

No system was attached to virtue ‘violations’, because they weren’t oaths to keep as such. Rather, virtues represented commitments to a paladin’s ideals and worldviews; they were the behaviors and values which someone serious about being a paladin would live by because that’s the kind of person they are. They were very Christian and very European in nature, tied up in Catholic ideas of knighthood from which paladins as a class were originally drawn, but there’s definitely a point to be made here. If you don’t walk your talk, can you call yourself a paragon? We’re gonna get into this specific topic more later in the article, when I start discussing other the virtues extolled by other kinds of warriors, but the ones listed and expanded on in this book are as follows:

Fealty - A paladin swears loyalty and service to, at minimum, a faith or philosophy that is lawful good in nature. This forms the foundation of her convictions and informs the kind of good she tries to do in the world. A paladin remains conscious of the fact that she is seen as an embodiment of those ideals, takes joy in her service, and pays respect to those to whom she has sworn her troth. Notably, this is not classic feudal fealty; a paladin swears service to institutions, not people, with some exceptions (generally in the form of paladins who swear fealty to their mentors).

Courtesy - Paladins strive to show respect by following social customs, being polite and well-mannered, and treating even enemies with dignity. A paladin responds to insults with grace, considers the feelings of others, and does not stoop to insults or slander. Remember the Kingsmen gentleman rules? That. This is just that.

Honesty - A paladin speaks the truth as she knows it. She is free to withhold information (especially from enemies), and may state that she would prefer not to answer when asked questions - or that she is ordered, enjoined, or otherwise required not to answer, if that is the truth - but does not intentionally mislead or deceive others. If you ask your paladin friend a question and they say they would rather not answer, think real hard about how bad you want their opinion.

Valor - Paladins display courage in battle. Given a choice between many enemies, a paladin chooses the most dangerous. If someone has to take a risk to defend the innocent, cover a retreat, or ensure the success of the mission, the paladin volunteers for that risk. A paladin only retreats from battle to fulfill a higher part of her ethos.

Honor - A paladin conducts herself with integrity even when no one is watching or when it is of no benefit to herself. She shows mercy, refuses to inflict undue suffering even on such wretched beings as demons, does not cheat or cut corners, and does not compromise her principles. The description of the virtue of honor contains the rawest line in the entire book: “It is an admirable act to comfort a dying friend, but an act of honor to comfort a dying enemy.”

The above are the ‘universal’ virtues a paladin is meant to embody. The book briefly touches on the idea that a paladin might also choose to uphold other virtues and work them into her Code of Ennoblement, the ceremony by which she is invested with the power of a paladin...or isn’t. The sample ‘bonus’ virtues provided are humility, chastity, celibacy, and my absolute favorite, industry, in which you swear to have no chill at all, ever, until the day you finally die, and instead spend all of your waking moments in some effort of self-improvement or work such as reading, building houses for the needy, repairing tools & equipment, and otherwise being completely incompetent in the art of self-care. It’s great, I absolutely love it.

Together, this code and the paladin’s abilities present a vision of classical knighthood, something like, oh...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35GUTY_Gr14

That. A defender and paragon of medieval virtues, who lives to help others.

“Alright Vox, surely you’re reaching the end of AD&D 2e now?” you ask. “We’ve been through the mechanics, we’ve been through the vision of paladins as members of feudal states who are figuratively and legally ennobled by righteousness, we’ve even gone into more detail about the code than was strictly necessary. 3e time right?” AFRAID NOT, MY WILD RIDE DOES NOT END. AD&D 2e didn’t have feats, didn’t really have spell selection in this context, and while it had a sort of skill system (the Proficiency system, greatly utilized and suggested by The Complete Paladin’s Handbook) that was hardly a way to make one paladin feel mechanically distinct from others. So how did players do that? Ability score rolls and loot drops?

Nope! We had Kits.

Kits modify a class or multiclass combo (not relevant to this article, but as a f’rinstance, the original Bladesinger was an elf-only Fighter/Mage kit found in The Complete Book of Elves); they give it additional features and additional restrictions. They could, but did not always, have ability score requirements above and beyond the typical ones for their class, and they might also have backstory or roleplaying requirements. A kit might who your character is in the society of the game world, the abilities they brought to the adventuring party, or both. Like Pathfinder’s Archetypes, some kits would strip abilities from the standard class, but not all of them did so.

So what did paladin kits do? In short, they changed the kind of knight you were. An Errant, for instance, is kept on a long leash by their liege and does not often have to fulfill edicts - but in exchange, she’s on her own and cannot expect funding from the state. Ghosthunters, who specialize in the destruction of the undead, gain the power to dispel evil, immunity to paralysis, turn undead just as well as a cleric does, and get access to a holy sword a minimum of 2 levels earlier - but they can’t lay hands, cure disease, cast priest spells, or enjoy immunity to disease. Inquisitors (I know) are paladins who see magic as a good and benevolent force, which is corrupted - profaned, even - by the practice of evil magic; they’re similar to ghosthunters in a lot of ways, but also represent an organized philosophy. The Complete Paladin’s Handbook has 22 pages of kits for standard paladin alone, which you can mix and match to create your own unique take on the concept, plus information on “demi-paladins” - non-human fighter/clerics who slowly gain paladin powers in addition to their own. This was back in the day when certain races just could not be good at certain classes due to level restrictions or being unable to take those classes in the first place, but here was the first glimmer of D&D confronting some of its own bullshit; before this book, the implication was that no non-human race was moral enough to be a paladin.

There’s so much more in this book but I’m not gonna get into all of it or this article’s just gonna be a review of one supplement; if you can get your hands on a PDF or even a hard copy, I highly suggest it as a read. It’s not that I endorse its vision for paladins as being the best or as being objectively correct, because I don’t; the potential of paladins is much broader than this narrow vision of Christian feudalism. It’s that no other book, before or after, has paid such loving attention to who paladins are in the game world, including thought given to details like their mortality rate (paladins that manage to survive to 40 are forcibly retired in the hopes that they can teach the youngbloods to do the same), the economics of knighthood, meta-commentary about how the class’s aesthetic and presentation is built to enhance themes about the game and the setting, and even a chapter on weaving faith into your game world and thinking about your paladin’s relationship to her own. The great strength of AD&D 2e’s paladins is that they, more than any others, have this loving care devoted to them that makes them feel like a real part of the worlds in which they live, and their great weakness is a vision that is more narrow than it wanted to be. You can see the author grasping for something broader, something more inclusive, only for it to slip between his fingers.

D&D 3.5: Up From The Gutter - Ah, D&D 3.5, the demon that will not die. This game spawned a million spin-offs and heartbreakers, love for it contributed to the rise of Pathfinder, and it remains incredibly popular and played. It’s also garbage, but c’est la vie, c’est la morte. Its vision of paladin is not as detailed as AD&D 2e’s was, and its main innovations were mechanical in nature. However, 3.5 did offer some in-depth explorations on what it means to be Good-aligned that previous editions did not, and given the context that’s about to be important to talk about.

3.5′s vision of paladin mechanics was remarkably similar to 2e’s, with the most notable change being race selection (anyone can now be a paladin as long as they’re Lawful Good) and the addition of Smite Evil, which can be used a certain number of times per day to gain more accuracy and damage when attacking evil-aligned creatures. Paladins are still warriors, they still cure disease, lay on hands, detect evil, and own a horse; in other words, they barely changed. Unfortunately, the game changed, and this left paladins high and dry. I’m not gonna mince words: for most of 3.5′s run, paladins lagged so far behind in terms of combat prowess, skill selection, and general utility that they were essentially unplayable, including and in some ways especially against classic foes such as demons and dragons.

I’m not gonna get into why, because that is a separate and much angrier article that will spark a lot of controversy due to people who run their ignorant mouths like they know what the fuck they’re talking about, not that I’m bitter. The relevant part of this is that over 3.5′s run, paladin did in fact slowly improve. The Serenity feat, published in Dragon 306, (and much more easily available to you in Dragon Compendium) helped clean up the dizzying amount of attributes upon which they were dependent. Battle Blessing (Champions of Valor) made it easier to incorporate their native spellcasting into their play (though nothing ever quite solved their sharply limited spell slots), and Sword of the Arcane Order (Champions of Valor again) both opened up an alternate vision of paladins as a different kind of magical knight & offered broader utility in paladin’s spell list. The Prestige Paladin in Unearthed Arcana converted paladin from a base class to a prestige class, which let you build it off of more mechanically viable classes - further enhancing your ability to customize your paladin, especially since as a PrC you could stop taking Prestige Paladin at any time you felt you were sufficiently knightly. Access to these and other options eventually made paladin, if not good, at least viable, able to be played in most campaigns and pre-made adventures without undue worry or getting chumped out of basic encounters.

In all of their forms, these paladins still had a code. Observe:

Code of Conduct

A paladin must be of lawful good alignment and loses all class abilities if she ever willingly commits an evil act.

Additionally, a paladin’s code requires that she respect legitimate authority, act with honor (not lying, not cheating, not using poison, and so forth), help those in need (provided they do not use the help for evil or chaotic ends), and punish those who harm or threaten innocents.

Associates

While she may adventure with characters of any good or neutral alignment, a paladin will never knowingly associate with evil characters, nor will she continue an association with someone who consistently offends her moral code. A paladin may accept only henchmen, followers, or cohorts who are lawful good.

Ex-Paladins

A paladin who ceases to be lawful good, who willfully commits an evil act, or who grossly violates the code of conduct loses all paladin spells and abilities (including the service of the paladin’s mount, but not weapon, armor, and shield proficiencies). She may not progress any farther in levels as a paladin. She regains her abilities and advancement potential if she atones for her violations (see the atonement spell description), as appropriate.

Like a member of any other class, a paladin may be a multiclass character, but multiclass paladins face a special restriction. A paladin who gains a level in any class other than paladin may never again raise her paladin level, though she retains all her paladin abilities.

You know all the horror stories you’ve read of DMs maliciously making paladins Fall, or miscommunications in groups leading to alignment arguments? The ones about youth-pastor paladin characters sucking all the fun out of a party? Meet the culprit. 3.5 did not have The Complete Paladin’s Handbook’s discussion on same-paging with your group to prevent these problems, and this vague code wording paired with immediate and extreme consequences didn’t do it any favors. That’s not to say that this code is unworkable, exactly, but trying to sit down and agree with 4-6 other adults on what ‘gross violations’ actually means is essentially the world’s shittiest round of Apples to Apples and your reward for it is resenting the character you just built.

And that’s the paladin part, which means we have to get into the “being good-aligned” part. Lemme tell you about Book of Exalted Deeds, a historically significant garbage fire of a book that is somehow both the best supplement released about Good and the worst supplement released about Good at the same time.

For those of you with the fortune to have never played 3.5, its books are like that a lot.

So, bad parts first: all the mechanics. Just all of them. The prestige classes? Bad. The feats? Generally bad. The redemption rules revolving around Diplomacy? Sloppy. Magic items? Bad. Spells? Look up an online discussion about sanctify the wicked and then get back to me on that one; they’re bad too. Ravages and afflictions (good-aligned poisons and diseases) were a bad idea that were also a case of stunning hypocrisy from a book whose stance was that dealing ability score damage is ‘needless cruelty’. Even the write-ups for the planar NPCs kinda make them into these basic bitch pushovers, which, you guessed it, is bad. There’s a lot to say against this book and you can find someone saying it in most open web forums if you want to take a journey into the godawful design of the liminal space between 3.0 and 3.5.

But the good stuff was real good. D&D had/has long been stalked by ‘ethical dilemmas’ such as the so-called Goblin Baby Problem, where players would ask if it’s good to let goblin children live since they would only grow up to become goblin adults. Book of Exalted Deeds was the first D&D publication to make a hard stance against racial genocide (hell of a sentence, I know), and it doubled down on The Complete Paladin Handbook’s implied stance that all forms of romance and sexuality are valid as long as they’re between consenting adults that respect one another. BoED strove to define Good not just as the avoidance of evil (”The utter avoidance of evil is, at best, neutral.”) but as actively striving to respect life, practice altruism, and make the world a better and more just place. While its take on ideas like forgiveness, redemption, and justice were not necessarily perfect, it went out of its way to try to offer nuanced takes on those ideas and to note emphatically that practices such as slavery and racism do not become good just because certain historical cultures thought they were at the time.

The other notable thing that Book of Exalted Deeds did for the idea of a Good alignment was firmly state on the record that NG and CG are just as valid and Good as LG is. The existence of paladins and their alignment-locked nature had long implied that Lawful Good was the “best” Good, or the “most” Good, but Book of Exalted Deeds didn’t just introduce material for characters that were paragons of other Good alignments, it provided examples of such characters in action. D&D is still somewhat stalked by that “Law is Good and Good is Lawful” problem, but BoED and other books in its niche (notably including Heroes of Horror - I know, it doesn’t sound like it but trust me - and Champions of Valor) helped push back against that problem and open the floor to other heroes.

I wouldn’t be wholly done talking about 3.5 paladins without mentioning Unearthed Arcana, which introduced the paladin of freedom (CG), paladin of tyranny (LE), and paladin of slaughter (CE). Their hearts were in the right place here, but all three of them were...better ideas than executions, as it were, without much to talk about for them. Still, they make good examples of 3.5′s great strength in paladins: breadth of concept. Ideas that were previously impossible as paladins became commonplace, including paladin-like characters who were not members of the class and which I would absolutely consider paladins myself. It didn’t stick the landing on the mechanics, but that’s just 3.5 for you; if you weren’t a dedicated spellcaster, chances are you were gonna have some manner of bad time. This idea of paladins from all walks of life, from all levels of society and all peoples, has become a cherished part of the popular conception of paladins and it absolutely should be brought forward to other editions.

Which, honestly? It was.

Pathfinder 1e: Two Steps Forward, One Step Back - Pathfinder 1e’s baseline paladin release was essentially 3.5′s in many ways. The key mechanical differences were a revamped Smite Evil (which finally made it effective against its intended targets), the aura line of abilities that begin adding additional effects beyond Aura of Courage at 8th level and up, and Mercies - riders for the paladin’s Lay on Hands ability that cause it to also cure status effects, which in turn greatly enhances the paladin’s utility as a support class. Pathfinder also cleaned up some of 3.5′s attribute problems by orienting all of paladin’s magical abilities to Charisma instead of splitting between Wisdom and Charisma. Another small but significant note is the alteration from ‘gross’ violations of the code to any violation of the code. “Gee Vox, that doesn’t sound like it would really help code problems,” you say, to which I reply: it absolutely fucking did not.

Once we leave core, we get quite a few quality-of-life improvements. Though Pathfinder 1e lacks Battle Blessing, it replicates some of its effects by having many swift-action spells in-house for paladin, notably including the Litany line. Pathfinder’s archetype system for class customization offers options for the paladin that further customize its concept, though on the balance it’s harder to mix and match archs than it was to do so with kits. Archetypes always trade something, so in taking an arch you will lose some part of the base paladin kit and gain something which replaces it.

Narratively, things get more specific outside of core as well. Paizo’s one-and-only setting, Golarion, is one in which paladins must swear fealty to a specific god they serve above all others, and their power is derived directly from that god, who can grant or withhold it as they see fit. These gods (generally LN, LG, or NG in alignment, though certain specific CG deities sponsor paladins who must still be LG themselves) offer their own codes of conduct, which their paladins must follow. A paladin may be obligated to oppose ‘heresy’ as vigorously as chaos or evil, which is an awkward fucking feel, and paladins in Golarion’s setting can be found working for organizations such as the Hellknights, or in the armed forces of nations that practice slavery and forced conversion. That’s not to imply that they’re not also depicted in unambiguously good contexts, but when it comes to establishing paladins (or, well...anyone...) as good-aligned people Paizo has a bad habit of dropping the ball.

Like 3.5, the great strength of the Pathfinder 1e paladin is customization, and in this case a more solid mechanical base in comparison to the rest of the game. Pathfinder similarly flounders in that its vision of paladins is narrow and not fully realized in the game world.

Discussion of Pathfinder 1e’s paladin wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the Anti-Paladin, the only “alternate class” to see mechanical support beyond its initial publication. Baseline anti-paladins must be chaotic evil and have abilities that are the inverse of the baseline paladin; similarly, anti-paladin has archetypes available that change it to different kinds and methods of evil. It has its fans, and in terms of playability it’s as good, if not a little better, than paladin, but on the whole I tend to break on the side of thinking that Good and Evil are not mirror images of one another, and thus an anti-paladin is inappropriate as an idea. At least, one done in this way, as an explicit reaction to a supposed paragon of virtue, as things are about to get real interesting in...

D&D 4e: The Knight Unshackled - D&D 4e built off of the foundations laid down by the Book of Exalted Deeds and Unearthed Arcana by completely removing all alignment restrictions from both paladin and its counterpart class, blackguard. This section will also need to talk about cousin classes to paladin; specifically, the Avenger and the Invoker. Let’s start from the top, shall we?

Paladins in 4e are predicament dommes defenders; they use their abilities to place Marks on enemies, who then suffer damage if they choose to engage someone other than the paladin (all defenders in 4e force choices of a similar nature, though the penalty for failing to make the ‘right’ choice is not necessarily damage). In 4e, paladins are not granted their power by gods, nor are they empowered by their faith in righteousness alone; in point of fact, 4e paladins have no restrictions on their alignment whatsoever and are the first paladins to be open in this way. Instead, a paladin in D&D 4e is invested with power in rites kept secret by individual churches. Once invested, that’s it, no take-backs; the paladin remains a paladin even if they forsake that church entirely. The other classes I’m gonna talk about - avenger, blackguard, and invoker - are similarly invested, with invoker being the exception in how they get invested, but not in their no-takebacks status.

So, what powers a paladin after that investiture? Virtue; specifically, caring about others in some way. An LG paladin empowered by their belief in justice might be a classic knight in shining armor, defending her allies in righteousness’s name, but an LE paladin empowered by the same virtue might easily turn totalitarian, determined to establish justice no matter who has to suffer and die. In this model, evil-aligned paladins are those who care too much about something, to the point where they trample and harm others to see it fulfilled.

Paladin’s inverse, blackguard, is a striker class focused on direct damage. They gain their power through vice, inward-facing desires such as greed, selfishness, lust, or five pounds of nachos in one meal (don’t @ me). Blackguards are also not restricted by alignment. A classically selfish blackguard, out for their own power and safety, might be an amoral mercenary who kills because they can’t be bothered not to, but a good-aligned blackguard who’s selfish is, well, Tiffany Aching: protecting the world because it’s her world and how dare you fucking touch it.

Avengers have more in common with barbarians than paladins, but are notable here for their commonalities with paladin as a divine warrior concept, and also for having bones in with the later Oath of Vengeance concept in D&D 5e. Avengers are invested to smite the enemies of their church; they tap into their power by swearing an oath against specific enemies, and then dissociate until those enemies in particular are dead at their feet. Are you really into Alexander Anderson from Hellsing? Do you want to explore the terrible consequences of power, consequences that might not have been clear when you signed up to become an avenger? This could be for you.

Lastly we have invokers, the odd duck out. They are ranged controllers who fight with pure divine power. Invokers are created directly by gods, but unlike the previous three have no associations with churches; instead, their job is to look out for threats to all of existence and make sure that they don’t happen. Even evil-aligned gods create and tend to respect invokers, because you can’t conquer the world and rule it as its Dread Master if there’s no world left to rule. Because invokers are invested by gods directly, they tend to have a lot in common with the divine intervention paladin origin mentioned waaaaay up there in the 2e section; you’re minding your own business when one day God goes “TIME TO LEARN HOW TO SAVE THE WORLD” and that’s just your life now.

D&D 4e’s paladins and paladin-like classes fully realize the breadth of concepts and characters that paladins could fulfill; they offer intriguing possibilities for roleplaying, engaging character and plot hooks, and mechanically distinct interpretations of divine power. In unshackling paladins from alignment, 4e opens them up to questions of heroism, conviction, and belief that were in many ways previously closed, especially because paladins in other editions were often made to Fall for asking those questions. Their big weakness is, well, being in 4e. It’s not that D&D 4e is a bad game - in many ways it’s the most honest edition of D&D, and certainly the most tightly-designed - but rather that 4e’s context is highly specific. It can be hard to find players or DMs familiar with it, might be frustrating to gain access to its books, and once you do adapting its material requires significant narrative changes if you remove it from the context of the Points of Light setting.

D&D 5e: This I Vow - D&D 5e’s paladin is, in many ways, a combination of and refinement upon previous elements. Like 4e’s, it is not restricted by alignment (though the three Oaths in core do suggest particular alignments). Like 3.5′s paladin, it combines magical power with martial skill, though 5e’s paladin is both more overtly magical and gains access to better spells, faster, than its predecessor. Though the paladin gains some warrior-type abilities (notably including their choice of Fighting Style and the Extra Attack feature), the majority of their abilities are supernatural in nature, including Lay On Hands (in the form of a pool of hit points that can also be expended to remove poisons and diseases), immunity to disease, an array of defensive and utility spells (as well as the Smite line for bursts of damage), a Divine Smite that trades spells for damage directly, and native auras that protect the paladin’s allies as well as herself. Their defining feature, however, is the Oath they select at third level, which defines what sort of paladin they are.

Your selection of Sacred Oath nets your paladin 2 utility abilities at 3rd level, an additional aura at 7th, a strong upgrade of some kind at 15th, and a capstone at 20th that neither you nor any other living being will ever see because 5e campaigns barely get to 14th, God forbid 20th. Each Oath also provides a set of tenets that you are meant to live up to, but unlike previous incarnations of a Code of Conduct 5e’s relationship to these tenets is more...human. The following passage is from the Player’s Handbook, page 83 (”Creating A Paladin”):

As guardians against the forces of wickedness, paladins are rarely of any evil alignment. Most of them walk the paths of charity and justice. Consider how your alignment colors the way you pursue your holy quest and the manner in which you conduct yourself before gods and mortals. Your oath and alignment might be in harmony, or your oath might represent standards of behavior you have not yet attained.

Emphasis mine.

The baseline assumption for 5e’s paladins are believers in righteousness, whose faith in virtue empowers them to protect the weak, but more than any other edition, 5e recognizes that paladins are still people, who have flaws, strengths, and ambitions. Its Background system helps flesh out your character both mechanically and narratively, and material presented both in the Player’s Handbook and Xanathar’s Guide to Everything encourage you to think about the things that drive and oppose your paladin. Importantly, though the books say that evil paladins are rare, no actual alignment restriction on paladins exist, which opens up some interesting possibilities in terms of character creation. We’ll get more into that down the article a bit, when I talk about same-paging and refluffing.

Because Oaths come with both mechanics and an ethos, there is a strong incentive to create new Oaths for 5e if you want to embody a new ethos, but this may not always be strictly necessary. Additionally, the Player’s Handbook implies that paladins who flagrantly fail or abandon their oaths might become Oathbreakers (Dungeon Master’s Guide, page 97, under “Villain Options”), but this too may not be the correct move, especially in cases where a paladin abandons one set of high ideals for a different, but no lower, form of belief. We’ll get into that later too.

5e’s paladins are in the best mechanical position they’ve ever been in; they’re one of the strongest classes in the game line, easy to build and play, and difficult to fuck up. They have strong thematics with their abilities and especially their Oaths, and the way 5e encourages you to make your characters helps you realize them as people in the game world. The great weakness of this vision of paladins is customization; 5e lacks player options in many senses, and quite a few of those options are gated behind rules that may not be in use (such as Feats). It can be difficult, in many cases, to make two paladins of the same Oath feel different when the dice hit the table.

And at long last, we have finished the establishing-context section of this article, and can move on to the actual fucking article. I did warn you, way up top, that you were in for a ride.

Raise Thy Sword - Paladins At Your Table

The following section is meant to help you in making and fleshing out a paladin concept to play or even to use as an NPC. Most of the advice will be edition-agnostic; advice that isn’t will be marked as such. Also covered herein will be the related topics of same-paging, refluffing, and the common pitfalls that paladins have fallen into over the years (and how to avoid them).

Same-Paging - In Which We Communicate Like Adults

Same-paging is the practice of talking to your group in a way that helps set mutual expectations, and it’s something every RPG group should strive to do regardless of the system they’re playing in. You’ve probably done this to an extent before, as part of being pitched a game (”We’re going to do a dungeon crawl through the deadly halls of Undermountain”), during character creation, and the like. In the specific case of paladins, you want to talk to your group and DM about topics like alignment & alignment restrictions, your code of conduct or oath, and whether or not the group wants to handle things like ethical dilemmas and moral quandaries. Though paladins are famous for those last two, they’re certainly not a requirement; you can just as easily play a paladin in a campaign like Expedition to Undermountain or Princes of the Apocalypse where there is a very clear bad guy who needs to be stopped with enormous applications of violence and guile. However your group wants to play it is fine, but you want to be sure everyone’s on board for it and that you’re ready to rock. If your group signs on for a kick-in-the-door dungeon crawl and then the DM decides to make you pass a series of ethics tests, that DM is an asshole; likewise, if you agree that you want to explore the morals at the heart of your paladin’s ethos and then you just don’t do that, you’re causing the problem.

Who Is Your Deity, And What Does She Do? - Making Your Paladin

Once you and your group have communicated your expectations to each other (and, again, same-paging is something all groups should be doing regularly, not just ones in which you want to play a paladin), it’s finally time to start sketching out your concept! There’s many ways to start this, and while I personally tend to start at the roleplaying end (with ideas about who they are as a person and the themes I want to explore with them), starting with mechanical ideas, with questions, or even with specific dramatic scenes in mind, are also viable. That is to say, “I’m interested in how Aura of the Guardian (Xanathar’s Guide to Everything, page 39) can help me play a damage mitigation tank,” is just as valid as, “Kass, my character, was lifted from a life of crime by a paladin who reformed her neighborhood and campaigned against a corrupt system, and she’s striving to become a paladin in his image.” That said, if there’s one thing D&D and its related communities are good at it’s mechanical guides, so I’m not gonna try and write one here. We’d be here all day; instead, the following questions are things to consider for fleshing out your paladin’s backstory, personality, and goals.

Why did you become a paladin? The origins of your paladin will probably color how they think of their virtues, as well as how they think of evil. A beaten-down girl from the slums understands that kicking the shit out of muggers doesn’t give the downtrodden food, medicine, or roofs that don’t leak, while the third son of a noble family is in a position to understand the damage done by corrupt leaders and faithless lords. In addition to your background and home life, think about what motivated your character to become a paladin specifically. Were they mentored by an older paladin who saw potential in them? Recruited by the militant arm of a church? Did they grow up with stories of paladins and yearn to become the sort of person those stories were written about, or were they, perhaps, seemingly called to paladinhood without much conscious understanding of what it was?

Where did you learn to fight? Paladins are warriors, and even a paladin that Falls (for those campaigns that use Falling as a concept) remains a warrior. 5e paladins, the most overtly magical of all the available options, still spend a lot of time randomizing the atoms of evil with sharpened metal, and that’s a skill you only get through training and dedication. Who taught your paladin to fight? What’s their relationship with that teacher or organization, and how did it shape their ideas about violence? We all catch things off of our teachers, and your paladin’s instructor in combat will, for better or worse, be as big an influence on their life and ideals as their faith and family are. Don’t be afraid to get wild here; AD&D 2e had full-blown godly training montages where the voice of a god ran you through drills, and paladins join warlocks and sorcerers for being fertile ground for some of the weirdest shit. Did you fight daily duels against a stained glass knight only you could see? Did you find a scimitar in the gutter and pick it up to defend your friends from gangs? Were you bankrolled by an old man who later turned out to be a lich, whose motives you still don’t understand? Live your best Big Ham life if that’s the life you wanna live, this is the class for it.

How do you imagine good and evil? What does your paladin’s vision of a Good world look like? What is the face of wickedness that comes to mind when they’re asked to think of Evil? A knight from a kingdom plagued by portals to the Abyss is going to think of both of these things very differently from a gutter rat whose ascension came with a prosthetic hand to replace the one she lost to gangrene, to say nothing of differences in ideals when one factors in Law and Chaos. Your paladin doesn’t have to be perfect, or even, honestly, correct. Your classic ‘noble, but kind of a dick’ paladin (such as Corran d’Arcy in the novelization of Pool of Radiance: Ruins of Myth Drannor, who we’re gonna talk about more later because he’s a weirdly great example of an adventuring paladin) thinks of evil as evildoers, who must be Brought To Justice, which while not entirely wrong is lacking in important nuance. He may conflate manners with virtue, or allow his prejudices to color who he does and doesn’t think of as ‘good’, but that doesn’t change his fundamental desire to Do Good - a desire that could be the catalyst for personal growth. A flawed understanding of virtue and wickedness could be a great character arc for your paladin, especially if it dovetails with the themes of the campaign.

What do you enjoy? Paladins are still people (shocking, I know) and people tend to have hobbies, preferences, and goals. Xanathar’s Guide to Everything has some nice material to quickly flesh out some of those aspects of your paladin (a personal goal, a vice that tempts them, a nemesis that dogs their footsteps), and I highly encourage you to think about such things as well. Does your paladin crave glory, wealth, or revenge? What sort of things do they turn to when they want comfort, or to have a good time? Do they still practice a trade from their youth, such as painting or blacksmithing? The archetype of a knight looking for their true love (or at least a series of whirlwind romances that always seem to end in someone’s bedroom) is a staple, of course. These things don’t necessarily need to be sinister temptations that lead you away from justice; they can just be nice things you like, or comforts that sustain you in your long fight against evil.

How do you relate to your faith? Many settings (notably including Forgotten Realms & Points of Light in D&D, and Golarion in Pathfinder) explicitly link paladins to churches and patron deities, and even in ones where this explicit link does not exist you see paladins who fight in the name of their faiths, serve in the militant arm of their churches, and otherwise seek to live their lives in accordance with their religion. D&D’s history is also full of paladins whose relationship to their faith is more distant, more questioning, or even outright rebellious. In Eberron, for instance, a paladin might dedicate herself to the Kraken - an evil god embodying sea monsters and catastrophes - with her understanding of that faith being preventing monster attacks and protecting the innocent from hurricanes and tidal waves. A paladin might be retained by the Church of St. Cuthbert as a barometer for their own morality, trusted to leash his peers when their retribution grows out of hand & play the devil’s advocate against them, or a knight might simply try to live their lives in accordance with the ideals of beauty, joy, and wonder espoused by Sune Firehair, without being for or against the actual church. What or whom does your paladin believe in, and why? Remember as well that not all, or even most, faiths are particularly similar to Christianity, and as a result your paladin’s relationship to that faith might just be business as usual. A Jewish paladin arguing with God is Judaism working as intended; similarly, a paladin dedicated to the Aesir doesn’t get to act surprised when they come home one day and Freya is chilling in their bathtub with a glass of wine and a ‘small request’.

You Wouldn’t Download A Class Feature - Refluffing & You(r Paladin)

So: you’ve come up with your concept, you’ve asked yourself all the relevant questions, but damn, some things just seem to not be fitting. What do you do? It may be the case that refluffing - changing the flavor of a mechanical option to better fit your campaign or setting - may be the right move for you. Refluffing gets a lot of pushback from a certain school of tabletop gaming that believes the flavor of an option is part of its mechanical balance. These people are wrong and I encourage you not to associate with them, in particular because the first party publishers often refluff material for similar reasons. For instance, the setting of Eberron has ‘anything published in D&D has a home here’ as one of its meta-tenets, and in the process of giving many of those things a home it changed their identity. Those hordes of angry ancestor-worshiping elves? That’s refluffing elves. In 3.5 you can see explicit discussion of refluffing in Oriental Adventures, which...well...it’s a book that exists, let’s leave it at that. Oerth having an entire alternate Material Plane where all the mirror of opposition copies come from? Refluffing.

So, when do you refluff? An obvious example is when your group is comfortable with an option being on the table, but is not playing in the setting that option comes from (for instance, the Sword of the Arcane Order feat from Champions of Valor when you are not playing in the Forgotten Realms). Refluffing is also great for when the narrative you’re building for a character implies or requires certain mechanics, but the flavor of those mechanics does not fit that narrative. In the ancient past I briefly GMed a game where one of the PCs was a ‘barbarian’ - a mean-streets kid looking to make a better life for himself, whose Rage was just the fight-or-flight kicking in from living in the garbage parts of Waterdeep. The important things to keep in mind when you choose to refluff an option is to stay on the same page as the rest of your group, and also to not replace the original fluff with nothing; mechanics do help define flavor (they’re the tools with which you interact with the game world), but you still need some reason that your paladin casts wizard spells, or has the abilities of the Oath of Vengeance when the original version of that Oath doesn’t exist in this setting. A very common school of refluffing is changing the origins of one’s power; rather than pure faith, for instance, a paladin’s powers might come from her innate spiritual energy, or from the favor of kami rather than gods.

Refluffing is also great for playing paladins that don’t have levels in the class named paladin. This option is especially relevant in the context of 3.5 and Pathfinder, when it may be more suitable to the needs of the campaign for you to be playing a more powerful or versatile class. In this context, clerics especially make very competent ‘paladins’, as do wizards (you wouldn’t think so, but I’ve seen that campaign played), inquisitors, crusaders, and even druids depending on how your concept is. You don’t need Fall mechanics to follow a code, after all.

For What The World Could Be - Defining Your Paladin’s Ethos

More than almost any other aspect of the class, possessing and following an ethos has defined paladins through the ages. For many years, this was a very specific ethos based on European ideas of chivalry and Christian virtue, and there’s something to be said for it when done well (certainly the Arab warriors from whom Europeans acquired the code of chivalry were lauded for their honor and virtuous conduct, so at a bare minimum one set of folks following these ideals in the real world absolutely nailed it). This is not, however, the only set of high ideals to which a paladin might cleave or aspire, and many fine homebrewers, players, and dungeon masters out there have chosen to craft their own, or to represent their own beliefs in the game world. Many cultures throughout history and all over the world have retained elite warriors held to high standards of conduct, and those traditions are rife for representation as paladins.

I fully intend to provide some specific examples of ethea (evidently this is the plural of ‘ethos’, no I didn’t know that before I started writing this, yes it looks wrong to me too) beyond the ongoing D&D default, but before I do you may want to consider how your paladin relates to those high ideals. After all, these are virtues that your character holds dear, but not everyone does so in the same way. Does she believe that everyone would be better off if they tried to live up to her standards, or does she believe that only certain people should (or must) do so? Does she consider her virtues an impossible ideal, something to strive for rather than fulfill, or does she not harbor such doubts? Is your paladin an idealist, who believes in the power of Good in itself, or is she more cynical?

The answers to these questions don’t necessarily make your paladin less Good as a person. A warrior who believes that there’s always a selfish bastard reason to do the right thing, who sees Evil as suboptimal, could still be a paladin if they work to bring Good into the world. An idealist who still needs to learn about the real consequences of barging into complex problems in a morally complicated world is equally valid, to say nothing of just...playing a genuine in-the-bones Hero, here to Do The Right Thing. Each speaks to a different kind of virtue, and a different life that has led them to these choices, and each deserves their day in the sun. You might have a lot of fun playing someone whose view of what Good is, and why, is different from yours!

Some specific examples of ethea (god that looks so wrong) follow. For the sake of convenience I’m gonna skip anything that’s actually showed up in a paladin entry before, or I’m gonna be here until I die. I am also very much not a member of just about any of the cultures and/or religions I’m about to talk about, and while I have sought the advice and review of those who are, I’m not about to claim that I’m an expert. Any errors in what’s presented are mine, and not those of my friends & readers; I welcome correction and discussion.

Irish Celtic: Blood & Troth - The ancient Celts were not a people shy about death, and excellence - skill, improvement, and genuine growth - in all of your crafts was one of their high virtues. In addition to excellence, a Celtic warrior was expected to be honest (to never tell a direct lie, and to keep all promises given), hospitable (to be a gracious host & and honorable guests, and defend the sanctity of the home), to be charitable with their skills and their worldly possessions (to give to the needy, defend the weak, and fight for the helpless), to display loyalty to their family, clan, and gods, and to be courageous. That last virtue is an interesting one, because it dovetails with excellence; it’s less about acting in spite of fear, and more about enjoying fearful situations and the call of battle. A paragon of Celtic warfare should love her job, perhaps even revel in it; she relishes combat and the mayhem of the killing fields. Paladins following these virtues are likely to be Chaotic in nature, skewing towards Chaotic Neutral as D&D thinks of these things, and prone to contemplation on concepts of obligation, truth, and the nature of political violence. The crows know that there is always a final answer to injustice.

Irish Celtic paladins are likely to look towards Fionn Mac Cumhaill as a role model; as warriors with magical powers of protection, defense, and healing, they would be valued as keepers of lore, wisdom, and art, more warrior-poet than berserker. If your paladin is part of a wider culture from which she derived this ethos, she was probably expected to both learn knowledge and pass it on to others, and to restrain more eager warriors in favor of cunning plans and clever tactics. Imagine the look on your party members’ faces when they meet your family and realize you’re the sane one; that’s the exact emotion you wanna look to create if you really want to bring this out in the classic vein.

Jewish: We Shall Serve The Lord - Judaism places a lot of emphasis on the sanctity of life, restorative justice, and doing the good you can do here, and now, with what’s in front of you. Though there is no tradition of elite Jewish warriors in the vein of knights or samurai, Jewish citizens tend to serve under arms slightly more often (about 5% more often) than their countrymen, and defending the innocent & helpless is certainly one way to do good now. A Jewish paladin would be expected to uphold the sanctity of life (preservation of life is the highest calling; a Jew may do anything except deny God in order to preserve life), to practice the principle of Tikkun Olam (’repairing the world’, working actively to make the world around them a more just, peaceful, and pleasant one), to show compassion and generosity to others, to uphold and defend hospitality, to know the Torah and the Law, and, where necessary, to practice intelligent and purposed dissent and skepticism. In the context of D&D, such a character is not likely to be particularly scholarly (paladins haven’t needed a decent Intelligence score at any point in the class’s evolution), but they’re probably conversant in the techniques of reading and research, critical thinking, argument, and debate, if only through exposure. Jewish paladins are most likely to be Good, leaning Lawful, as D&D thinks of these things.

The Jewish ethos describes a set of minimum standards for a righteous person, the Noahide Laws, and greatly encourages you not to associate with any person or culture that can’t meet that standard. They’re honestly not hard to meet either; you basically have to not be a dick about God (don’t try to stop folks from worshiping, don’t spend your time mocking and blaspheming their faith), know that lying and murdering are wrong, don’t be a sexual predator, don’t eat animals that are still alive, and bother to establish a system of laws for self-rule. Though Judaism lacks an elite warrior tradition, you might look to people like Joshua, Judah Maccabee, or Solomon as inspirations for a Jewish paladin character; warriors known for their wisdom, determination, and and in many cases, self-sacrifice. Solomon is also notable as an example of someone who swore the Nazarite Oath, a promise to God to fulfill a mission or task, and to not rest until one has done so. Nazarites are held to higher standards than their peers, notably including the expectation that the object of their oath becomes their only goal until they get it done or die.

As stated before, I am not Jewish and while this information was provided to me by Jewish friends, it is far from complete. @oath-of-lovingkindness might be by to expand on it, if they’re comfortable doing so.

Kemetic Pagan: The Power Of Truth - It’s difficult to talk about how the ancient Kemetic faiths were practiced; there was a lot of strife between the various cults of the gods, sometimes backed by pharaohs who were willing to revise history to get their way about thing, and then the English got a hold of the records. The English getting a hold of your culture’s history rarely ends well for just about anyone. The modern practice of Kemetic worship places great emphasis on service and identity as a member of the community, the promotion and preservation of knowledge, learning, and education, opposing is/fet (’chaos’, here also very much including the breakdown of social bonds and the systems which sustain life), and truth. A Kemetic paladin would be expected to oppose chaos by sustaining or creating such systems (funding schools, founding a neighborhood watch, finding or creating jobs for the poor), defend the defenseless, further her own education and knowledge & teach the ignorant, to be honest and forthright in word and deed, and value strength and justice. They are likely to be Lawful, skewing towards Good, as D&D thinks of these things. For a society to be just, it must first be a society; preservation of the order (both natural and artificial) which sustains human lives comes first.

Kemetic paladins are unlikely to be priests or even to be formally part of a religious heirarchy, again because they have traditionally had issues being scholarly people; instead, they uphold ma’at (what is true, what is just, what is necessary; ma’at is the principle that establishes a community, that relates one person to all other people and defines obligations between them, and opposes chaos) by fulfilling roles that assist their community. Such a paladin might look to one of their patron gods as an example of both the behavior they wish to emulate and their role in the community. A defender and guardian who supports the rural folk might look to Sobek, whose great strength guards the Nile; a would-be hero who craves power and the glory that power might buy her could instead look to Set, who guards the sun-barge and tests the established order so that it can grow strong. This is an ancient faith with quite a few gods, and I haven’t even gone deep enough to say I’ve scratched the surface; if they’re comfortable doing so, @merytu-mrytw may be by to expand on this topic for those interested in learning more.

Samurai: Reaching For Heaven - You knew we were gonna go here eventually. As famous as knights, and perhaps even more known for their strict code of honor, the samurai were the elite warriors of feudal Japan and members of its ruling class. A samurai was expected to be a warrior, to cultivate an appreciation for high arts such as calligraphy, poetry, and sculpture, to be a scholar or patron of scholars, and to otherwise serve their lord and establish justice in that lord’s name. Today the samurai ethos is often called Bushido (”the way of the warrior”), but that name and conception of their code of conduct is actually a relatively recent invention, dating back only as far as the 20th century. It has its bones in with a 12th century dramatization of a war between two proud clans, and the ideals embodied by the warriors of those clans. Notably, these ideals were considered unattainable; something to strive for, and in striving grow as a person, but not a realistic expectation for a living human in a physical body. I’m gonna go ahead and quote the breakdown of this code that was given to me, because I feel the long form is going to be helpful here. These were the things to strive for, if one wished to call oneself a samurai:

Your duty calls on you to die if necessary. Your honor is more than your life; to live in shame is worse than death. You are expected to be righteous - to have integrity, sincerity, and honesty. To display heroic courage - to be intelligently aware of risks, but to face them boldly, not rashly or foolishly. To be benevolent and compassionate - for you have strength of arms that others cannot fathom. To show respect, even to your enemy. Cruelty, mockery, showboating, boasting, these are against the samurai code. Your strength and stature come through how you stand in adversity, unyielding. To understand that there is no such thing as a promise, or "giving your word" - you do not speak unless you mean what you say. Meaningless words are for shameful people. To safeguard your own honor, for you are its judge - and you will know what will cause you to live in shame, which as noted above, is worse than death. To show loyalty and be dutiful - if you give your service to another, it is theirs to command, and if you set someone's life above yours, you cannot keep honor if you live and they die. To demonstrate self-control - excesses and wants are openings to great shame. Moral character lies in the desire being sublimated toward the better self and higher standing among men.

As the politics and culture of Japan evolved through the years, so too did attitudes towards, and understanding of, this code of conduct, but most dramatic and romantic depictions of the samurai ethos root back to something a lot like this. A paladin dedicated to this ethos is likely to be Lawful Neutral, bending towards Good, as D&D thinks of these things; it emphasizes the virtues of loyalty, duty, and the obligations of both lord and vassal to one another. It is particularly appropriate for characters who see high ideals of virtue as being an unattainable goal to strive for anyway, or for character-driven campaigns looking for high drama that comes from tensions between personal desires and societal expectations (you can see it used for this to wonderful effect in the Legend of Five Rings RPG, most recently published by Fantasy Flight Games).

There are of course many other potential sources for a paladin’s ethos; check out D&D 5e’s homebrew materials and the DM’s guild for just a few. If I didn’t include something here, I promise you that it’s because I’m either ignorant or not confident of my ability to speak on it even in this limited context, not because I was trying to deliberately leave anything out. As I said above, any errors here are mine, and I welcome corrections. I’m also eager to hear about other ethea and how they might be adapted for paladins, so if you’ve got some thoughts there, please, slap ‘em on! I’m quite literally begging to read your paladin takes!

That said, remember that these are real beliefs, that real people follow. If you’re looking to explore an ethos from a culture that is not your own, you should do so with respect and especially with consideration for others that might be affected. It’s one thing to realize 12 sessions into a campaign at your own house that you’ve been accidentally blaspheming someone’s religion; it’s quite another thing to realize that if you’ve been playing in a public place such as a library or a gaming store. Ask folks from the culture or faith in question about it if you can at all do so, and just...if you wouldn’t want someone to be depicting you in a particular way? Don’t depict them that way.

The Trolley Problem And Other Forms Of Psychological Torture - Paladins, Falling, & Alignment

All editions of paladins except 4e have some kind of rule for Falling; losing one’s paladin status and powers, generally because of violations of your code of conduct or a failure to maintain your alignment. 5e sorta-kinda has those rules in a “well if the DM says so” way, which is, in some ways, a worse situation to be in since it leaves the matter unclear. In particular, many editions of paladins require that you have and maintain a Lawful Good alignment, and completely strip you of all powers if you ever change alignment for any reason. If the above sections of this article didn’t make it clear already, I tend to break towards 4e’s school of thought and support unshackling paladins from both alignment and Falling mechanics for general play; they certainly haven’t been powerful enough in the meta to mechanically justify additional restrictions.

This isn’t to say that you can’t use Falling or the threat of Falling for interesting stories and excellent character moments, just that I personally feel that it’s not as necessary as some schools of thought seem to think it is. If you want to incorporate this idea into your campaign, make sure you bring that up when you’re same-paging with your group; it’s definitely one of those topics everyone wants to have a clear understanding about. From there, it’s on the DM to not be a dick about things. Using paladins to explore ethical dilemmas can be very rewarding, but putting one in an ‘impossible’ scenario is rarely any fun. For some great examples of using ethical dilemmas as a form of character growth and to explore the concept of morality, check out The Good Place if you haven’t already. Remember: it’s a game. The goal is to have fun, yeah?

Genocide Is Not An Ethical Dilemma - Common Paladin Pitfalls

This is the part of the article where I get very angry about things.

As I alluded to before, there have been some common pitfalls when it comes to paladins both in the history of their formal writing and in the way the fanbase has chosen to play and relate to them. This section is going to discuss those and what you can do about them, so without further ado:

Fascism - Paladins have some unfortunate bones in with fascist ideology, particularly the Third Reich’s obsession with ‘will’, as well as the fascist preoccupation with the Crusades, the Crusades themselves, and with being members of social classes which are often oppressive in nature. You really do not have to go far to find some jackoff posting DEUS VULT memes about their paladin, and that’s a problem, first because fascists are bad, and second because that definitely misses the fucking point by a country mile. All editions of D&D and its legacy systems have struggled with this, but a shout-out goes to D&D 5e for publishing the Oath of Conquest, because we definitely needed to respond to this problem by creating an option that gives you heavier, more ornate jackboots to put on people’s necks.

So, what do you do about this? Well, for one thing if you find a fascist at your gaming table you throw them the fuck out into the street, and beyond that mainly you just...try not to play a fuckin’ fascist character. This isn’t really a problem you can solve at the table level, since it’s buried into the writing; all you can do is be aware of it, and not play into it. It shouldn’t be terribly difficult to not make a paladin who’s into kicking poor people and undermining the rights of sapient beings, yeah? Paladins tend to fall into these sorts of problems when they’re depicted as supporting strongmen, or as being the Special And Exalted People to whom the rules do not apply - basically the same situations that give superheroes as a genre their ongoing fascism problem. Keep a weather eye out.

Genocide - The two-for-one combo! Paladins have had a genocide problem as far back as AD&D 2e, where several had racial or religious genocide in their backstories. Sometimes those paladins Fell as a result, sure, but a disturbing amount of them didn’t. We also have such gems as, “A local paladin has started a crusade against half-breeds” (a plot hook published in Draconomicon for 3.5), that greentext story about the paladin and dwarf ‘bros’ who spend their free time murdering orc children, and everything that’s ever been written about how drow are characterized and treated by others. Now, in fairness to paladins, Dungeons & Dragons itself has problems with the themes of race and with its depiction of the morality of genocide, and paladins could be merely caught up in that. On a basic level, solving this issue is easy; don’t endorse genocide, don’t make edgy racist concepts to see if you can ‘still be good’. Even if that wasn’t already tired and worn, someone else already took that concept and went pro with it.

For more information about fantasy’s troubles with race and racial coding, I highly suggest this article & its sequel, as well as Lindsay Ellis’s Bright video.

Youth Pastor Syndrome - This one’s not as dire a problem as the other two; there’s a tendency to play paladins in a way that sucks the fun out of the rest of the group, either because you’re being a judgemental asshole in-character (and possibly out of it), or because they’re constantly having to tiptoe around you to get things done or do what they want in the campaign. In theory, same-paging should help solve this problem before it starts, and it honestly mainly stems from the various ‘association’ clauses in paladin codes through their history. An uptight paladin isn’t necessarily a bad concept, but make sure it’s the right concept for your group before you just go there. Your desire to run a particular character is not an excuse to shit on everyone else’s fun.

Sir Dumbass the Just - So this topic isn’t so much a ‘pitfall’ as something that doesn’t get talked about a lot. There has not been a single incarnation of paladin that is rewarded for investing in Intelligence; instead, they tend to crave Strength or Dexterity, Constitution, and Wisdom and/or Charisma (depending on edition and build). Once your main three are solved, Wisdom is the next-most important ability score for an adventuring paladin, because it directly relates to detecting threats, seeing through illusions, and resisting mind control, which leaves Intelligence in the dust next to whichever one of Strength or Dexterity you didn’t pick. This means, more often than not, that paladins are going to struggle in scholarly pursuits, be bad at Knowledge-type skills, and otherwise be uneducated in many ways, which most assuredly influences both their internal culture and the sorts of people who become successful paladins. Give the matter some consideration when you’re making your own.

Lady Natasha Pointe-Claire of the Dust March - Paladins as NPCS

Related to what was discussed just above, not all paladins are necessarily adventurers. Though the image of the paladin as a knight-errant, wandering the world in order to defeat foul plots and punch demons in the asshole, is both valid and probably very relevant to paladin player characters, there are other roles that a paladin might fulfill in your campaign setting. Such paladins are still members of a warrior class, and will thus have things in common with player character paladins, but their different roles will encourage investment in other kinds of abilities and skills which might not lead to a successful adventuring paladin, but will lead to a pretty good life in the other job. The following examples are by no means exhaustive, but they should provide a good place for a DM to start if they wanna incorporate paladin NPCs into their games in roles other than fellow (or rival) adventurers. Mentor - Probably the most straightforward; this paladin was a successful adventuring paladin who ended up retiring due to age, injuries, or just to enjoy time with their loved ones/family/children rather than getting mauled to death by undead birds. Take a normal paladin build, ratchet them up into Middle Age or Old Age, call it a day. Such paladins are likely to be a lot calmer and more pragmatic than the younger set, with a combination of painful experience and perspective guiding the advice they give on how to fight evil and how to dodge the fireballs that evil be throwing.

Knight-Hospitaller - Hospitallers are healers, caretakers, and guardians of the sick, injured, and infirm. Such a paladin might help maintain a home for those who have been traumatized (abuse victims, soldiers, people laboring beneath magical curses), be employed at or run a hospital, or maintain a temple dedicated to a god of healing and medicine. Hospitallers tend to choose options that enhance their Lay on Hands ability, memorize more healing spells than attack or defense ones, and value Wisdom and Intelligence more highly than their peers, often at the expense of their Strength or Dexterity (or even their Constitution; paladins, being immune to disease, can afford to be surprisingly frail of body in this role).

Fortress Knight - These paladins have a lot in common with adventuring paladins, but are for one reason or another posted in one spot from which they do not leave. They might be the guardians of a frontier village, soldiers watching over a sinister portal, the personal bodyguards to a powerful noble, or any other role in which they take on a defensive, reactionary stance rather than actively seeking out new and exciting forms of evil. Fortress knights need a higher Wisdom and to invest in Perception-type skills, and will tend to focus on utility-type spells with a strong subtheme of attack; they need to be able to rouse the alarm, dispel magic on their allies, and keep an enemy pinned down.

Example Paladin - Corran D’Arcy

I promise you, your long journey through my article is almost over. I wanna talk about a specific paladin to kinda tie things together, as an example of some of these principles and ideas in motion and because Corran d’Arcy is just weirdly legit when he has absolutely no fucking reason to be. Corran appears in the novelization for Pool of Radiance: Ruins of Myth Drannor, written by Carrie Bebris. The book is based on the videogame of the same name, which in turn was made to celebrate the release of D&D 3.0. “Should I play this game?” you ask, to which I reply: absolutely fucking not, the game was a rough ride when it came out and it has not aged remotely well. 3.0 was rapidly updated to 3.5 because of deep and wide mechanical flaws that made the play experience almost physically painful, and converting it to a CRPG did not help that experience at all.

The book though? Excellent. Legitimately one of the best D&D novels. Spoilers for it follow, but I’d still suggest reading it if you get the chance.

The novel is told from the perspective of Kestrel, a petty thief trying to raise enough money to quit her life of crime and, ideally, die in bed of old age rather than of blood loss in some gutter. A series of poor and alcohol-related decisions leads her to volunteer to guard an evil pool of soul-stealing water, which is where she meets Corran d’Arcy, a paladin of Tyr and the third son of a noble family. The two get on like water and oil; to Kestrel, Corran is a pompous, classist piece of shit who judges her without knowing her, and to Corran, Kestrel is the exact kind of criminal and evildoer he so often fights in his day job. When another team opens a portal to beg for help while they’re being slaughtered, Corran quite literally throws Kestrel through it when she’s trying not to go, nearly killing them both.

This puts their professional relationship off to a bit of a distant start, as you might imagine.

Corran’s prejudice, as well as Kestrel’s more-justified-but-still-unhelpful resentment, hinder the party as they attempt to survive in Myth Drannor and defeat the Cult of the Dragon’s schemes there. Corran’s life of privilege has left him unfamiliar with Kestrel’s skills, and he consistently misuses those skills or forgets to ask for her opinion and expertise - to the detriment of the group. This painful oversight aside, however, Corran proves surprisingly practical; he works with the party’s wizard to create effective combat tactics, utilizes invisibility for surprise attacks against powerful foes, and coordinates well in the heat of battle; after all, the Cult of the Dragon is not taking requests for formal duels, and the fate of the world is at stake. Corran is polite even to his enemies, and openly negotiates with the minions and allies of the Cult in order to avoid combat - notably including drow houses that have made their homes in Myth Drannor. Through the course of the novel, he and Kestrel go from being openly antagonistic towards one another to developing a newfound respect, starting when Kestrel calls Corran out for endangering the party by refusing to retreat. Corran, in turn, forces Kestrel to confront the fact that she has been unhappy living her life with no purpose other than to die another day, a revelation that shakes her to her core.

Things come to a head when one of Corran’s decisions gets a man killed. Kestrel calls him out on it, accusing him - correctly - of hurting those he’s trying to protect by misusing her skills and ignoring the advice of his companions. Seeing his genuine anguish over these events softens Kestrel’s rage towards the paladin, enough that they essentially start their relationship over from the top with genuine change from both of them. A scene late in the book where Kestrel helps Corran find the confidence to attempt divine magic (a gift given only to ‘truly worthy’ paladins) cements what has finally become a trusting friendship.

Corran d’Arcy is an excellent example of a classic paladin archetype with life and humanity breathed into it. He has prejudices and insecurities; he feels pressured to live up to a long legacy of knighthood that intimidates him. At the same time, the virtues he lives up to reward him over and over again, from his bold valor (which sees to the defeat of many evildoers) to his courtesy and honor in social situations (which wins him unlikely allies in a ruined city overrun by wickedness). Though he starts out as a dick, Corran is not malicious, and it’s his genuine desire to do good by others that motivates the change in his behavior; when he learns that he is hurting his friends, he knows that he must change.

That’s the end of the article proper! I hope you found it informative and, more than anything, helpful in creating paladins for your game and campaign setting. I absolutely welcome questions, comments, critique, additions, and the like; my Ask box is open, and the Reblog button is right there.

That said, if you’re interested, Mister Vox’s Wild Ride is not yet over. I got bit by the homebrew bug halfway through this damnable thing, so here’s a paladin oath based on a family from my first completed interactive story, Dungeon Life Quest. Constructive critique of this material is also very welcome!

Oath of the la Croix (D&D 5e Sacred Oath)

(River la Croix, journeyman necromancer and demonologist, ex-mercenary. Character is from Dungeon Life Quest, art provided by Domochevsky.)

The la Croix family have been necromancers for longer than they’ve been the la Croix; they laid down much of the foundations of modern necromancy, and have, through the ages, been tyrants, villains, refugees and, these days, heroes. To be a la Croix is not a matter of blood, but of commitment to the family’s ideals; one must be willing to help those in need, to serve the community, be a level head in times of trouble, to show respect for death and the dead, and to make hard choices with a calm heart.

Though most la Croix are necromancers, alchemists, healers, or summoners of various kinds, every now and again a paladin-like warrior emerges from the ranks of the family, often by adoption. Whether or not such cousins are ‘real’ paladins is a subject of languid internal debate in the family - no la Croix has ever fallen to the point where she lost her powers, but a few have managed to go mad enough with that power to end up hunted down by the rest of the family. The question doesn’t really need answering, but it’s fun to argue about after three cups of wine.

Tenets of the la Croix The high standards expected of la Croix paladins are also expected of anyone who chooses to bear the family name. You can give up the name at any time, but most la Croix children - by adoption or by blood - try to wear it with pride.

Life is for the Living, Death is for the Dead. No one chooses to be born, and very few people choose to die. Respect these truths. Take life when you must, but not cruelly, and never for personal gain. Remember that you, too, are alive, and deserve the chance to enjoy that life as all people do.

Your Name is ‘Somebody’. If there is a call for help, you are the one to answer; when you hear ‘somebody do something’, ‘somebody help me’, you are Somebody, child of Anyone. If you can’t help directly, do everything you can anyway. None of us deserve to be alone.

Serve, Not Rule. A la Croix’s place in her community is service to that community. We are not nobles, tyrants, or generals; we dwell among the common people to protect and shelter them, and to remind ourselves of all the ways in which we are alike. Our power makes us different, not better.

They, Too, Are Victims of Life. You do not know the struggles others go through, just as they do not know yours. All are condemned to live and to die, and deserve your compassion even when you are moved to strike them down for the greater good. Bury your enemies and give them their last rites as if they were your own family.

Oath Spells You gain oath spells at the paladin levels listed.

3rd - bane, false life 5th - darkness, gentle repose 9th - bestow curse, fear 13th - phantasmal killer, shadow of Moil* 17th - danse macabre*, planar binding

*appears in Xanathar’s Guide to Everything

Channel Divinity When you take this oath at 3rd level, you gain the following Channel Divinity options.

Ancestral Protection - You can use your Channel Divinity to call upon your la Croix ancestors for protection. As an action, you suffer damage equal to your paladin level; this damage cannot be prevented or reduced in any way. Then, you and all allies within 30 feet of you gain a bonus to armor class equal to your Charisma modifier for 1 minute.

Balefire Blast - You can use your Channel Divinity to scourge an enemy with death-in-flame. Make a spell attack against a creature within 30 feet. If you hit, that creature suffers necrotic damage equal to your paladin level, plus fire damage equal to your paladin level. If it dies within 1 minute of being hit, it counts as dying of old age in addition to its actual cause of death (usually meaning that it is much more difficult to bring back from the dead).

Necromancer’s Aura Beginning at 7th level, you radiate constant necromantic wards that protect you and your allies. You and allies within 10 feet of you have resistance to necrotic damage and radiant damage, and you make saving throws against effects which would kill you outright with advantage.

At 18th level, the range of this aura increases to 30 feet.

Friend of Death Starting at 15th level, you regain 1 spell slot of 3rd level or lower whenever a creature within 30 feet of you is reduced to 0 or less hit points. You can regain a number of spell slots this way equal to your Charisma modifier; once you reach this limit, you must finish a long rest to use this ability again.

Aphrael’s Chosen At 20th level, you gain the ability to enter a state of heightened necromantic power, in which you can channel far more sorcery than usual. As an action, you suffer damage equal to your paladin level, then begin channeling raw death magic for 1 minute. While in this state, you gain the following benefits:

- You are immune to all effects which would kill you outright - Whenever you cast a paladin spell, you can make a weapon attack as part of casting that spell. You are not required to make this attack. - Creatures make their saving throws against your spells with disadvantage.

Once you use this feature, you can’t use it again until you finish a long rest.

#d&d #paladin #pathfinder #rpg #violence #ethics #philosophy

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