#paragon-arthur

[goldensunset]

Hi! I really enjoyed your meta on Xehanort being the one to kill Baldr. What do you think of how Dark Road handled Xehanort's development and how it led into the future? The Wonderland was really surprisingly good in that favour, to me.

long story short dark road made me insane and i seriously hope we get to see xehanort in the future in some way shape or form. xehanort14, as some of us have been calling him. it just feels Hurtful to write the most despicable villain ever for like twenty years and then only after he’s finally dead do we get a real backstory on him that makes us all feel for him hardcore and appreciate him as a character. and i think dark road’s very existence even after kh3 is just proof that nomura is way too attached to xehanort to let him go like that. and nomura’s own comments seem to strongly imply the same. just because his saga is over does not necessarily guarantee we’ll never see him again…

oh wait by future you mean in-universe. like how that all shaped him lol. WELL. it’s all been said before by both me and others but i think xehanort’s main takeaway from the events of dark road wasn’t even anything specifically related to whether darkness is acceptable or not. he already felt an affinity for darkness even before getting to scala.

nah the lesson he learned from that whole entire nightmare is that Sometimes People Have To Make Hard Choices. sometimes ya gotta stand up and do the repulsive thing, the uncomfortable thing, the thing that makes you seem like the bad guy in order to serve a greater goal.

vidar couldn’t bring himself to kill baldr and he didn’t even personally know the guy. that idea was too awful for him. if vidar hadn’t been so merciful maybe baldr could’ve been stopped earlier and the remaining classmates could’ve survived. we see eraqus get angry at vidar about this while xehanort was calmer about it but i think internally xehanort was feeling it too. vidar was too weak to do what needed to be done. so then xehanort went and killed baldr even though he didn’t want to.

flash forward a lifetime later and xehanort is manipulating/possessing/killing anyone he needs to because he’s trying to make the world a better place right? those who are trying to stop him simply don’t understand. they’re too weak and sentimental.

dark road was such a masterpiece of writing fr fr it’s not at all what i think any of us honestly expected of a xehanort backstory

[ananteatermaybe]

[cerastes]

Gotta say, my confidence with AC6 is plummetting a bit. Finding it kinda difficult to nail a few things down as I reach the chapter 1 boss. None of my builds feel right. Is it generally a good idea to build a few mechs out for various situations?

Yes, absolutely. Since AC1, players have been able to sell parts and weapons at full price at the shop. You are not limited by your parts, you are limited by your total capital, including assets, so absolutely sell parts as you need so you can build new ACs as needed. You can save schematics in AC Data, so make a bunch of ACs, mix and match, sell and buy, get goofy, find that solution.

But also, note what it is that it’s giving you such difficulty in the first place: are none of your shots landing? Check if your FCS and Arms are good matches for your weapons. Landing shots, but doing no damage? Check weaponry effective and ideal ranges. Hard time dodging? Bulk up to take hits better or get rid of weight to have more speed to more easily maneuver. Actually identify what’s pounding you so you can build around it.

[anthurak]

Your theory is spot on- RT confirmed in the episode discussion the Cat was created by the Brothers, and with it the Ever After. Spot on job!

Thanks! XD And yeah, that was really great to hear confirmed :D

Though honestly what I'm even more excited about is that their confirmation about the Gods creating the Curious Cat, and by extension the Ever After, implicitly confirms something I've been theorizing since almost the end of Volume 8.

That just like in Volumes 3 and 6, we are almost certainly going to get some HUGE background and lore revelations that will major shift both ours and the heroines' understanding of the world and what's really going on. Which combined with other things like Ruby's ascension and the now VERY likely reveal of Summer, will, again just like Volumes 3 and 6, end up completely upending the status quo of the show going forward.

So yeah, I'm pretty excited for the last two episodes XD

[carewyncromwell]

Percy 🤝 Carewyn

The summer of 1995 was a very busy time for Carewyn at the Ministry. Normally she would’ve been glad for the extra case work, as it would’ve allowed her to help more people, which had always been her dream and goal...but unfortunately, most of this “work” as of late had been to assist the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, in crafting some new legislation pointed directly at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Apparently Fudge was so fed up about Dumbledore having so much trouble finding suitable professors for Defense Against the Dark Arts -- in Fudge’s words, “one of the core subjects for a developing witch or wizard’s education” -- that he decided that if Dumbledore couldn’t nominate a suitable successor, the Minister (and therefore he) would just have to do it himself. Carewyn truly detested the idea -- but under the circumstances, she knew if she was both going to prevent Fudge from causing too much damage and keep the job she loved so she could continue helping people, then she’d have to be involved in putting that idea into action. So she’d accepted the role of legal counsel for Fudge while he developed this plan...even while simultaneously offering covert assistance to Dumbledore’s organization, the Order of the Phoenix, by leaving enough wiggle room to legally challenge the legislation. 

One silver lining about having to work with Fudge, though, was that it gave Carewyn the chance to make contact with Percy Weasley, who had been appointed Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic earlier that summer. Carewyn had to break ties with the Weasley family, including her best friend, Bill, so as to stay at an advantageous position within the Ministry -- an act Carewyn was loathe to put on, given how much she adored all of them like her own family. But not long later, third-eldest son Percy was promoted to the role of Junior Assistant at only 19 years old -- an act Carewyn immediately pinpointed as Fudge trying to keep tabs on the Weasleys, who’d always been loyal and close friends to Dumbledore -- and right afterward, rumors started flitting around the Ministry that Percy had severed ties with his family, all because they supposedly believed the “Boy Who Lied’s” rubbish about You-Know-Who returning. 

Carewyn’s heart hurt, just hearing the rumors. She knew Arthur and Molly had to be devastated over Percy’s departure -- Bill and Charlie undoubtedly would be too, once they found out. Bill in particular had always been so protective of all of his siblings: his greatest fear, from the time he was young, was any of his family being hurt. And with Voldemort really having returned, it was truly dangerous for Percy to be shoving his head in the sand at this particular moment. 

Someone’s got to look after Percy and make sure he’s okay, Carewyn decided at once. If the Weasleys can’t, then I will.

So when Percy stopped by Carewyn’s tiny office the following morning to fetch the legislation draft and notes she’d written for Fudge, Carewyn couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

“Hi, Percy,” she greeted him. 

Percy was very stiff-shouldered as he gave her a slightly forced smile and nod. 

“Good morning, Carewyn,” he said, his slightly pompous voice coming out a bit brusquely despite himself. “I’m here for the notes the Minister requested...”

“I figured,” said Carewyn. She took out a file and placed it in front of her on the desk. “It’s all right here -- I enclosed a letter of recommendations at the top, for the Minister to read over -- ”

“Much obliged,” Percy cut her off as he reached out to take the file from her. 

He seemed oddly evasive. Carewyn could sense he was trying not to look into her eyes too long, but when he did, slips of memory emerged.

“ -- swear, it feels like she can look right through you, at times...”

“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”

The first voice in Percy’s mind she didn’t recognize, but the second she immediately knew was Bill’s. The thought of her best friend made Carewyn’s heart hurt. 

“You haven’t had breakfast, have you?” she said abruptly, as Percy turned to leave. “I’m brewing some coffee.”

She indicated the modified Muggle coffee maker next to her desk. 

Percy’s eyes flitted over to it. For a split second, Carewyn could see his father’s face in Percy’s gaze. 

“Thank you,” the bespectacled young man said uncomfortably, “but I should really get this back to the Minister -- ”

“I’ll send it on ahead for you,” said Carewyn crisply. 

She raised her wand. In an instant, she’d transfigured the file in Percy’s hand into a Ministry-of-Magic-approved paper airplane, which she then Charmed to soar out of the room, out toward the Minister’s office. She then indicated the empty chair across the desk from her with a gentler expression.

“You should eat something,” she murmured. 

Percy looked up at her, startled. Carewyn could see Molly in his eyes, this time -- Bill too. 

The third eldest Weasley flushed darkly as he averted his eyes again, his gaze falling over to the coffeemaker and Belgian waffle iron on the side. 

“...I suppose,” he said stiffly. “But I can’t stay long -- there’s a great load of work to do...”

Carewyn nodded respectfully as Percy sat down. If there was one thing she and Percy had in common, it was their workaholic tendencies. 

Once Percy had sat down, Carewyn set about fetching some mugs from inside the cabinet hosting the coffee maker, as well as loading some stored batter into the modified waffle iron so it could cook. She could feel Percy’s eyes on her, but when she looked up, he quickly looked away again.

“ -- Muggles use these things to cook different kinds of food! Don’t entirely get why they choose to iron it, but Muggles are truly fascinating things, aren’t they?”

Carewyn’s eyes softened a bit, hearing Arthur’s voice in Percy’s thoughts.

“Jacob made these for me,” she attempted conversation.

Percy looked up, startled. “...Oh, ah...your brother?”

Carewyn could hear Charlie in Percy’s thoughts.

“ -- kind of a mad genius, really -- ”

“Her brother disappeared because of those Vaults, Perce -- Carey’s not going to just give up on them -- ”

“Yes. I’d mentioned how irritated I was that the cafe’s line’s always so long and that I didn’t have any electricity so I could plug in my own appliances...so Jacob ended up enchanting these so he could gift them to me for Christmas. He even made a stop at a Muggle shop out in San Francisco to pick me up the waffle iron...” 

Carewyn couldn’t keep the fond smile off her face. 

“...It’s been helpful, in keeping everyone fed,” she said amusedly. “Ben especially -- he’s always skipping meals. And Talbott, Tonks and I work such late nights, it’s nice to be able to brew a pick-me-up or two, to get through it all...”

Once the coffee was finished brewing, she poured out two mugs, one for Percy and one for herself.

“Would you like milk?” she asked. “Sugar?”

“Sugar, please,” said Percy. “Two lumps will do.”

Once Carewyn had fixed his cup properly, she offered it to Percy, who quietly thanked her as he brought the mug into his hands and took a sip. As he did so, he kept his eyes locked on the coffee as much as he could -- even so, Carewyn could just barely sense the clipped memories in his head: Bill standing over Carewyn’s shoulder, Charlie wrapping an arm around Carewyn and calling her his “twin”...even the twins laughing.

“She’s like Mum!”

“Only cooler!”

That’s what it is, then, Carewyn thought. He’s afraid his family’s told me about his departure.

Her red lips came together grimly as she looked down at and took a sip from her own cup, contemplating how best to approach the issue. Then, taking a deep breath, she decided to say very softly,

“...I heard about what happened.”

Percy avoided her gaze all the more even after raising his head. 

“...From Bill, I presume?” he muttered.

The thought of her best friend made Carewyn give the slightest, longing wince.

“...No,” she said softly. “We...aren’t speaking, right now.”

Carewyn felt Percy’s wide eyes on her without looking up. There was a long silence, before Percy finally spoke again.

“...I see.”

His voice was very solemn and yet also oddly soft: almost empathetic. 

Carewyn swallowed. She could surmise what Percy was probably thinking -- that they’d had a similar falling out -- and as much as she wanted to correct the record, she knew it would be counterproductive. She knew Percy was in denial about Voldemort being back just as much as Fudge was, and he was just as deathly loyal to the Ministry as the rest of his family was to Voldemort. If she told Percy the truth about her helping the Order or the true reason why she wasn’t in contact with Bill or the others, then he would undoubtedly tell Fudge, and everyone else would only be in more danger. And so, reluctantly, she let it lie. 

When she looked up, Percy was looking her in the face again -- it made it so that his emotions were suddenly much better for her to read, through his eyes. 

“He’s using you, Perce, can’t you see that?”

“ -- wants at Harry -- ”

“ -- know you don’t want to believe it -- none of us do...but You-Know-Who is back, Percy!”

“ -- only believes what he wants to see -- ”

“And what about you? Blindly marching lockstep with Dumbledore, all this time -- even after he let Bill go running off after the Cursed Vaults with Carewyn -- after he left him and Charlie around the likes of Patricia Rakepick -- !”

“Don’t you see, you’re nothing but a pawn Fudge is using to -- !”

“Nothing?! Nothing?! And what have you done with all your time at the Ministry, Dad?! Besides....besides chasing after airplanes and collecting rubbish Muggles chuck away!?”

“At least I’m trying to do something with my life! At least I’m trying to provide for everyone -- to be someone my family can actually be proud of!”

“Ah yes -- proud of. A Ministry brown-noser that bows and scrapes before the likes of weak men like Cornelius Fudge, just to advance himself -- ”

“You’ve NEVER understood me! None of you ever have!”

Arthur’s and Percy’s voices yelling at each other was a strange feeling, for Carewyn. Both of them were destructive like out-of-control, reckless flames, and yet it was oddly vulnerable: like a wounded lion lashing out when deeply hurt.

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with compassion, feeling Percy’s anger second-hand. Percy seemed to sense how much Carewyn was seeing -- before he looked down at his mug again, Carewyn once again could hear Bill.

“ -- it’s called Legilimency -- ”

“Suppose you read my mind, just now?” Percy asked with a dark smile. 

Carewyn shook her head.

“Thoughts aren’t something that can be read -- they’re not sentences in a book. I can only sense and feel someone’s emotions and memories.”

She paused. Then she reached out and took Percy’s hand. 

“...Percy...I’m sorry your father said that to you,” she murmured.

However right he was about You-Know-Who...and however much it is true that Fudge’s promotion of you was more selfishly motivated than you think...you’ve always worked so hard, to try to do well at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley must’ve known how much all of this means to you...

Percy’s eyes darkened. 

“He thinks I’m just thinking of myself,” he said lowly. “That I’m just running after glory for myself, and nothing else. But...”

His hand started to shake as he clenched his teeth, bowing his head.

“...But...but he’s always been the selfish one!” he burst out angrily. “Always running around, dawdling after Muggles...like his job’s nothing but a game! His was the only salary we’ve got to live on, since Mum’s always been at home -- sure, we want him to be happy, and yes, we’ve been able to manage...but we shouldn’t have HAD to just ‘manage!’ He should’ve been providing for us -- he should’ve been trying to climb the ladder, should’ve been looking for a job that could actually pay the bills, rather than make us constantly live on the edge...constantly have to buy things second-hand, constantly have to decline opportunities or make do with rubbish, just because we couldn’t afford better...constantly have to live with the stigma of being one of Arthur Weasley’s boys...”

Percy’s hand inside of Carewyn’s clenched into a fist. Carewyn gave Percy’s fist a gentle squeeze, but she didn’t speak: this was a time to listen, not to talk.

Exhaling heavily, Percy put down his mug of coffee down on the table, so as to protect it from his own temper.

“I wanted to attend the Slug Club party with you,” he mumbled self-consciously. “The one your brother was invited to, before you graduated.”

Carewyn blinked in surprise. 

“I’d heard all about the Slug Club from other students,” Percy explained earnestly. “About how Horace Slughorn’s only ever invited those he saw as the most up-and-coming witches and wizards to his events. I thought it’d be exciting to meet so many new, well-regarded people -- maybe talk to Barnabas Cuffe about what it’s like to work as a journalist for the Daily Prophet -- chat with some fascinating up-and-coming authors, before I read their work -- maybe even meet the Gwenog Jones -- tell her how much my little sister idolizes her...”

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with compassion.

“Percy, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked sadly. “Jacob and I would’ve loved to have you join us.”

Percy shook his head. "I was only fourteen. Slughorn would’ve had no reason to talk to me -- I hadn’t done anything that would set me apart as anything other than ‘one of Arthur Weasley’s boys.’ And I already knew I had nothing to wear that would be suitable.”

“Andre would’ve made you something to wear,” said Carewyn, but Percy shook his head again.

“I thought of that, but...at the time, I didn’t want to be treated like a charity case,” he said gloomily. “I was already so much younger than you, and...well, you’ve always been much closer with Bill and Charlie than me. Even Fred and George...”

“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have been welcome,” Carewyn said very firmly, giving Percy’s hand a squeeze. “I only went to that party because of Jacob, and Jacob only went out of a sense of feeling like he had to, after how worried Slughorn was about him all those years. I know Slughorn would’ve loved having another person there who was just as thrilled to be there as he was.”

Percy gave Carewyn a weak smile. Through his eyes, Carewyn could feel just how warm and comforting her sentiment was.

“...Thank you, Carewyn.”

He paused. Then, taking a breath, he took the plunge.

“It’s...it’s lovely that you went to a party you weren’t even interested in, just to support your brother,” he said quietly. “I don’t think any of my siblings would go with me, if I got invited to a Slug Club party...they’ve never been interested in such things...”

Carewyn frowned. “You don’t think Bill or Charlie would’ve supported you?”

Percy looked uncomfortable. “In sentiment, maybe, but...well, Bill and Charlie always spent the most time together, at home. They were always each other’s best friend, before they got to school and met you. And Fred and George of course always had each other...even Ron and Ginny ended up together most often, just because they were the smallest and always needed the most attention...”

“...Leaving you all by yourself,” Carewyn finished grimly.

Percy’s eyes darkened again. Carewyn could sense the remnants of a very lonely bespectacled boy hiding in a hollowed-out tree outside the Burrow, reading a book, coming off of him.

Carewyn’s eyes softened and she gave Percy’s hand another affectionate squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” she murmured. “It must’ve been really lonely for you sometimes...even with how close your family’s always been...”

Her eyes landed on their hands rather than Percy’s face as she tried to shut out the isolating memories rippling off of Percy.

“...My mum’s family was a lot worse than yours...but she was the black sheep there too...and she’s always said that you should never be lonely, when you’re in a family. Even when you’re physically alone...you should never have to feel alone.”

Percy looked up at Carewyn, his lips twitching into a weak, humorless smile.

“Your mother sounds like a very kind woman.”

He paused. Then, after a moment, he spoke a bit more bitterly.

“...I...don’t suppose Fred’s followed up with you about taking over my old room at the Burrow, now that I’ve left for good?”

Carewyn’s blue eyes welled up with pain.

“...Percy...”

She got up from her chair, extended both of her arms, and encircled him in a big hug. The taller ginger-haired man flinched ever-so-slightly, but almost immediately grabbed onto her in return, burying his face into her shoulder without ever getting up from his seat.

“He didn’t mean it like that,” Carewyn whispered in Percy’s ear. She found herself maternally stroking the younger boy’s hair like she sometimes would Charlie’s, when he was sad.

“I know,” Percy’s voice came out slightly muffled beside her shoulder. “...I know...”

Even so, Carewyn could tell how much that barbed joke had really hurt.

Percy’s arms adjusted a bit around Carewyn, giving her a slightly tighter squeeze before he finally released her. He brought a hand up under his glasses to covertly wipe at the tear that had formed in the corner of his right eye, clearing his throat loudly.

“Excuse me, I...lost my composure. Silly thing...”

“It’s not silly,” Carewyn shut him down sharply.

Softening at once again, she walked over to the waffle iron, which had started to beep. She opened it, levitating out the newly cooked waffle inside with her wand onto a plate before summoning some butter and strawberry compote out of a drawer.

“I realize this makes for a rather sweet breakfast,” said Carewyn as she set about buttering and then drizzling the compote over the waffle. “But...well, Mum used to say that sometimes something sweet in the morning can take off the edge of a bitter night’s sleep.”

Percy eyed the full plate of food and then the clock.

“It looks lovely, but...” he said uneasily, “...I really should be getting back to work...”

“Then take it with you,” said Carewyn. “You can always bring the plate and mug back to me, when you’re done with them.”

Percy’s eyes softened a bit behind his glasses as he picked up his half-full mug and got to his feet. “...All right.”

He accepted the plate from her in his other hand as he headed for the door. He paused in the door frame, looking back over his shoulder at her with a slightly warmer expression.

“...Carewyn...thank you for listening. I mean, you clearly have a full day of work yourself to contend with, and -- ”

“My work might be very important to me,” Carewyn said firmly, “but the only reason it is so important is because it lets me help people. And the people I care about I will always help first.”

Carewyn could imagine Bill standing over Percy’s left shoulder, smiling fully and handsomely as ever. It made her smile that bit more warmly at Percy.

“...My office door is always open, if you need anything,” she said gently.

Percy smiled and nodded, before turning on his heel and heading out of Carewyn’s office, taking another sip of coffee as he went.

Friendship Drabble Prompt!

[daisyachain]

We have Askeladd the bloodthirsty Merlin. Cnut the Miltonian Lucifer. Any other English mythologies we want to throw in here

[p0orbaby]

Divitiae

summary: you bring Leah to the family home for the first time

warnings: nowt

a/n: I don’t know what this is. I do, it’s old money!reader

word count: 1.3k

-

Leah is no stranger to the uncomfortable.

She’s an athlete. A celebrity. Her life is full of unpleasantness. Tricky opponents. Unwanted media attention. You name it, she’s experienced it, she’s gotten over it.

But this? This is different. She can’t seem to settle into the plush leather seats of the car she’s being chauffeured in. As the rolling fields of your estate blur past, she can’t ignore the anxious feeling sitting heavy in her stomach.

"You okay?" you asked, noticing her wide-eyed expression.

"This is way beyond anything I imagined," Leah admitted with a nervous laugh. "I feel like I've been dropped onto a different planet”

You smiled, intertwining your fingers with hers. "It's a world that comes with its own set of traditions and luxuries. But remember, at its core, it's still just a place filled with people”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Sorry, it's all a bit overwhelming,” she admitted.

You chuckled softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. But trust me, it’s a lot more boring that it looks”

As the car approached the Manor’s grand entrance, Leah's eyes widened further. "And what about you? How did you adapt to all this?"

"I grew up with it, but it was never about the titles or the estates for me," you explained. "It's about never taking what I’ve been given for granted. And now, I want you to share what I have. With you”

The grand entrance of the Manor commanded attention, its towering doors flanked by intricately carved pillars. As the car glided to a halt, a symphony of movement unfolded. Impeccably dressed housekeepers and butlers formed a line, standing at attention like living sculptures.

You always hated the formality of just popping home.

The door swung open with a deliberate grace, revealing the Head Butler, a paragon of composed customs. “Welcome back, Lady Y/N,” he greeted you, nodding respectfully. His keen eyes shifting to Leah with a subtle hint of surprise when you reach out a hand to assist her in getting out of the car.

Leah offered a shy smile, feeling the weight of everyone's attention. "Hello," she greeted politely, trying to match the decorum of the staff.

Eyes lingered on her, people muttered under their breaths to one another as you led her inside. You were never the one who brought back company.

Your mother and father appeared at the top of the grand staircase, wearing warm smiles. "Darling, you never told us you were coming home!" your mother exclaimed, descending with graceful steps.

“Because I didn’t think a grand welcoming would be necessary, but here we are” you quip, eyeing the hoards of staff ferrying your luggage away, before leaning in to kiss them both on the cheeks in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Leah. Our daughter has spoken so highly of you”

Leah shook your fathers extended hand, her nerves easing slightly with his genuine warmth and kindness. "Thank you, it's an honor to meet you both too”

“Don’t be silly,” your mother interjected with a warm smile. “We’re thrilled to have you here”

Just as you thought the introductions were going smoothly, a mischievous, loud voice echoed through the foyer. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Your older brother, notorious for his teasing, emerges from the shadows with a smirk.

Leah's eyes narrowed playfully as your sibling continued, "Is this the one my baby sister has brought home? Quite the catch!"

“Arthur” you say, turning to Leah who stands pin-straight beside you. “The eldest and forever a thorn in my side”

He grinned, unabashed by the acknowledgment. “Guilty as charged. And who’s this lovely lady you’ve brought into the lion’s den?”

“Leah. Pleasure to meet you, Arthur” she offers politely.

With an exaggerated bow, he replied, “The pleasure is undoubtedly mine, Leah. Y/N, I must say, you’ve been hiding a real gem from us”

You rolled your eyes, accustomed to your brother's childishness. “Don’t let his theatrics fool you, my love. He’s all smoke and mirrors”

“You wound me, dear sister”

“Where’s Teddy?” You ask, desperate to change the conversation. “I’ve got something I want to give him”

“Paris. Some fancy foundation thing,” Arthur informs you, bored. “You know, the kind of event where people pretend to care about saving the world while sipping champagne”

You hum because you know the kind all too well. Yourself and Arthur were never really fond of such events, always finding them more about appearances than genuine concern. Your baby brother Theodore, on the other hand, always seemed to revel in the grandeur of such occasions. He had a knack for effortlessly blending into the sophisticated crowd, seemlessly navigating conversations about philanthropy while maintaining an air of genuine interest.

At only 21, he was a force to be reckoned with.

A door clicks open on the other side of the room and all your heads swivel towards the noise. Finding an immaculately dressed Housman waiting in tow.

“Refreshments?” Your father gestures towards the drawing room. “We keep your favourites just for occasions like this”

You exchange a glance with Leah, considering the tempting offer, but politely decline. “Thank you, but we’ll pass for now. I was thinking of showing Leah around and maybe getting settled into our rooms”

-

“These gardens have been here for generations,” you explain, pointing out various features. “Each generation has added their own touch. It’s like a family tradition, but with more dirt and fewer family meetings”

You gesture towards a particularly vibrant rose bush. “My grandmother planted these. She was all about the classic symbolism of love and romance”

Moving on, you point at a well-crafted fountain. “Father took it upon himself to build this thing. He liked the idea of having his little oasis right here”

“And those magnolias over there?” you say, nodding towards a cluster of trees. “Mother’s idea. She thought they were classy, I guess”

“I think it’s sweet,” Leah admits with a genuine smile.

You both continue your leisurely stroll through the garden, surrounded by a symphony of colors and scents. The vibrant wildflowers sway gently in the breeze, their hues blending seamlessly. The sun-dappled paths lead you deeper into the greenery, and the distant murmur of a hidden fountain bubbles in the background.

“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind contributing then?” You muse as you pass under a canopy of wisteria vines. “You know, to carry on the tradition”

Leah’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment, she can’t help but fall a little more in love with you. The sincerity in your voice, the hint of shyness in your demeanor. It’s a side of you she doesn’t see often.

“I would love to” she replies, and she doesn’t miss the way your shoulders deflate. Like you’d been nervous she’d ever deny you. “But only if you help me choose?”

A toothy grin spreads across your face and a childlike happiness floods your features, “come on” you say suddenly. “There’s one last thing out here I want to show you”

Before she knows it you’re dragging her briskly under cherry blossoms and past hidden duck ponds. Only stopping when the shade of the apple trees makes her skin prickle and shadows dance across your face.

“An orchard?”

“Yes” you say. “The apples actually get picked and donated to local schools. But I must admit that is not why I brought you out here”

“No?” She asks, confused.

Without saying a word, you push her chest slightly so she stumbles back against the trunk of a tree, and connect your lips to hers. She’s not expecting it, you can tell because her hands hover by her sides momentarily. Until you run your own down the length of her arms and place them around your neck yourself.

She settles then. When her mouth moves against yours and your hands find solace at her waist. As the rolling fields of your estate fade away, she can’t ignore the anxiousness in her stomach disappearing like a whisper on a summer breeze.

[tyrantisterror]

What are some examples of benevolent (or at least benign) dragons in classical western folklore? I recall you mentioning that they did indeed exist, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning any specific examples.

Well, firstly, most of the dragons from Greek mythology. Like, the dragon that Cadmus slew was Ares's pet, and Cadmus had to build an army to fight war in Ares's name as penance. The dragon of Colchis was beloved by Medea and viewed as a protector by her people, and in some versions of the Argonauts myth was put to sleep peacefully instead of slain. Ladon, the dragon who guards the Hesperides, was specifically beloved by the nymphs who lived alongside him, and in the versions of the myth where Heracles slays him, Ladon is explicitly mourned by those same nymphs. Dragons were agents of the divine in Greek myth as often is not more so than they were enemies of it, which makes sense given that so many of them were, like, first cousins with the Olympians. It's really funny that people will cite the Greek myths as examples of dragons as "agents of evil" in the same way it's funny when people cite Greek heroes as moral paragons, when any actual look at Greek mythology shows its morality was always very murky shades of gray rather than the black and white view we like to pretend all European mythology shares.

I think this inflicting of Christian black and white thinking on a morally gray mythology also occurs with Norse myth, though sadly we don't have a lot of pre-Christian Norse literature to serve as concrete evidence for this opinion the way we do with Greek dragons. Like, outside of Ragnorok (which some have argued is not a REAL Norse myth, but something concocted during the Christian-ization of Europe as a way to placate Christianity into not destroying all of Norse culture), Jormungandr doesn't do a single malevolent thing in any Norse story. The most he ever antagonizes anyone is when he lets Utgard Loki (no relation to normal Loki) make him look like a cat to teach Thor a lesson in humility that the god of thunder never fully learns. All subsequent encounters are a result of Thor fucking with Jormungandr out of spite for the cat prank. The corpse chewer dragons in Niflheim are terrifying, but the souls they're gnawing on are the dishonored dead, and they don't cause problems for the living until - well, until Ragnorok, which again, may not be a real Norse myth. Fafnir's a piece of shit, sure, but he's not a dragon by birth - he's a dwarf who turned into one out of greed for gold.

Then you have a myriad of stories about dragons who were tamed by saints or heroes only to be killed by townsfolk who thought they were still vicious, and promptly mourned afterwards - the Tarasque is probably the most prominent of these, but there are other stories that are variations on the formula. I'd also include Maud and the Wyvern/Dragon of Mordiford in this category, as while the dragon is never fully tamed by Maud's affection, it's nonetheless kind to her, and the story ends with her mourning its death rather than the townsfolk celebrating it. You are clearly supposed to feel sympathy for these dragons, even if the stories present their deaths as necessary or inevitable.

There are even examples of good dragons in explicitly Christian Medieval stories, despite them usually opting to treat dragons as purely evil. You have Y Ddraig Goch, the red dragon of Wales, whose defeat of a white dragon is an explicit omen of how the wicked Saxons will be overthrown and driven out by a good (or at least better) king in time, and who becomes the heraldry of King Arthur, a paragon of virtue by the standards of the times each of his stories are told in. There's one saint - I think Carantoc? - who found a dragon sleeping in a well and convinced it to move without much complaint, and another, St. Simeon, who removed a thorn from a dragon's eye to the amazement of all and was shown gratitude by the dragon in turn.

Benign/benevolent/not-explicitly-evil dragons may not make up the majority of European dragons, but they're not as rare as modern generalizations of it would have you believe.

[teefscrubz]

The way they look at each other for the whole show is so special to me.

Arthur knows he cannot rightfully marry Merlin. As much as he expresses he intends to marry for love - as he does with gwen - nothing is more important to him then Camelot. and Camelot has expectations, one of which being a king + a queen, to birth an heir.

Sure, Merlin is practically a god; an immortal dragonlord born as magic incarnate, Magic itself, a paragon of the Old Religion, a creature of pure power, a talented, natural warlock. But he's also a man, and a peasant at that. He knows that he can't be by Arthur's side as a husband.

but the rules say absolutely nothing about the king having a dedicated and loyal manservant to be by his side at all times. Gwen certainly doesn't mind–she loves Arthur, and she adores Merlin. She's so intelligent, there's no way she doesn't know. Sure, Arthur loves her, but not like he loves Merlin.

She knows that, and she supports it. Who would question a king, a queen, and a manservant, after all?

[cerastes]

The first intro boss of AC6 has killed me a fair few times but I gotta say... I don't mald or ragequit? It legitimately feels like a skill issue rather than anything unfair and I'm figuring out what I need to do. Is that a common experience to AC games?

Yeah exactly, that’s The Armored Core process, keep at it, improve, dissect the fight, figure out what you’re doing wrong/what the boss wants you to do, you’ll get it.

And after the Filtercopter, you’ll be able to get more parts, and then the solutions to the puzzles known as bosses will open up as well, as you make your very own build, that plays exactly how you want.

AC6 actually traded some of its excess speed for more mechanical complexity in its bosses, but otherwise this is the experience of refining yourself to meet the challenges, yes!

[anthurak]

Just wanted to say your Rosebird fics are very excellent, super well done. Would I be right that the incident that caused Summer to be in bedrest was a Salem related one?

Thank you so much! XD

And funny enough, the answer is no. Or rather, not directly.

I'm still keeping the details pretty vague, but basically Summer had a nasty run-in with one of Remnant's criminal organizations who MAY have pushed in her direction by Salem's manipulations, but are mostly just one small part of a very large network of organized crime that make up Remnant's criminal underworld.

A network that Raven would then proceed to spend a good year or two cutting a bloody swath of revenge through XD

[drconstellation]

Once and Future Royalty

Just, stay with me on this one. I know its going to look crazy at the start, but trust me, I know where I'm going.

It all started with the 537AD scene in Wessex in the opening montage of "Hard Times," S1E3. Yeah, the one where Aziraphale is supposed to be a knight of the Round Table and Crowley is role-playing the Black Knight, and they are both so super-squeaky shiny clean - not a speck of dirt or mud on them. wtf! It looks out of place, unrealistic, and was bugging the crap out of me, like a stone in your shoe. It just didn't fit. I mean, why put a myth, a legend, into that sequence? Oh, OK, yeah, the preceding stories from the Bible, like the Garden of Eden and the Flood, aren't "myths" as well, you say? Hmm. In the context of the Good Omens AU, being a biblical based story, they belong there far more than the legend of King Arthur.

King Arthur, who supposedly united Britain under his rule during the late 5th century and early 6th century, was shown to have the divine right to rule by wielding the mighty sword Excalibur. Some stories tell of Arthur pulling Excalibur from a stone. Some tell of him receiving Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake. Either way, it was bestowed upon him by divine grace. Despite his triumph in battle, he left no heirs, as his queen, the fair Guinevere, was barren. She had a long-running love affair with the greatest knight of the court, Sir Lancelot, but despite this being an open secret in court Arthur would not put her aside. The knights of the Round Table in the court of Camelot were near-paragons of Christian virtue, and there are many tales of their search for the Holy Grail, the cup from the Last Supper of Jesus Christ.

In the end, mortally wounded in battle, Arthur was taken away for healing, and never seen again. It was said he would return when Britain was at it most direst hour to save the day once more. A "messianic" return.

The Once and Future King.

Now, I'm no Arthurian novice; I drank up all of T. H. White as a teenager, read the Dark is Rising multiple times, Marion Zimmer Bradley's interpretation and what ever else I could lay my hands on for a good couple of decades. And there is LOTS of King Arthur stuff around. You are not left wanting for anything new to read or consume. And I'll bet there are a fair few of you also out there who know a quite bit about the legend as well. Oh, and I can't tell you how many times I have watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I still walk around quoting it day-to-day, like the good little Gen-Xer I am, having grown up on that stuff. So I really should have listened to my intuition when bits of Monty Python kept popping up in my brain in response to other parts of GO I was thinking about. (Staaay, I said, stay with me here....)

I kept chewing away furiously on the Wessex problem, growling in feral frustration at it, but also kept reading and sorting out some other ideas and metas at the same time. Eventually I found the key in a tiny little post, about a small detail in the 1941 Blitz episode S2E4, of all places. I wanted to slap myself with how much was staring me in the face so obviously once the door opened. And the damn beauty of it is, that I already written about some it, out of context, without knowing the why.

OK. Where to start this journey...hmmm, back to Monty Python, because, guess what - the Wessex scene is actually riffing off one the more famous skits out the the Holy Grail. The scene is a masterpiece of political satire, from start to finish, but the relevant part here is this sequence:

In case you missed the salient points: Arthur claims he is king by divine providence, because he was given Excalibur by the Lady of the Lake. Dennis the peasant protests this waterlogged method of determination, mentioning ponds, watery tarts and a moistened... well, I hope you get the idea about where this is going.

Meanwhile, in 537AD, Wessex, as the mist swirls around them:

"It is a bit damp," complains a shiny silver Aziraphale.

Yes, Excalibur would be a bit damp after it emerged from the Lake. (vidavalor! Get your mind out of the gutter! I'm trying to have a serious discussion here! Please! And I wasn't even going to go anywhere near what the sword in the stone is really meant to be referring to...it's not even relevant to the discussion at hand, I swear! Well, there is going to be sexual relations mentioned but - oh, never mind...)

Right. Where were we. Lets leave those super-clean elite pretendy knights to swim off through the swirling mist back to their dry homes to write and file reports to head office, along with Patsy and the hired Igors, and Dennis can keep playing in his lovely muddy filth after he finishes protesting being repressed by the divinely-deluded Arthur. I've got a bit more to say about what Aziraphale and Crowley might represent here later but you need some more context first, so lets move on. I just needed to show you the first bit so you can see the Arthurian theme stretches across both S1 and S2, and will likely appear in S3 as well. More about that towards the end.

Ah, before I forget...another ref from the Holy Grail we need to cover:

This GIF, unfortunately, doesn't have the full exchange between the peasants, which is this:

P1: "Who's that then?" P2: "I don't know. Must be a king." P1: "How can you tell?" P2: "Because he doesn't have any shit on him."

Ah. Er. OH!

Have you made the connection?

Who have I been emphasizing as being unusually clean in their Arthurian setting? That's right, Aziraphale and Crowley.

What's this implying? That they are royalty. Celestial royalty. Maybe not kings, but how about princes? You know how we've been discussing whether Crowley was a once at least an Archangel, and there is even a hint that he was a fallen prince of Heaven given during the replay of Gabriel's trial? (Not the prince, but a prince - a seraphim) And that Aziraphale may have once been Raphael, and may be again in the future? Once and future royalty. To me it adds weight to the past discussion, and helps to explain the assumed authority expressed in these two scenes here: On the left, Aziraphale takes control inside the book shop as the angels and demons argue who is going to punish Gabriel and Beelzebub (finally found it after several months!) and on the right, Crowley is shouting at the assembling demons in the street that they are "out of order."

Onward, Patsy. (I hope you're still with me.)

1941, the Blitz part 2, minisode.

We've found Excalibur! On to Camelot!

[Edit note: I've added a few GIFs and screen shots into the sequence of parallels above because I was thinking over a few things since I posted and felt this actually sat better. To try and explain, as they don't exactly match as I would like, in the Holy Grail movie, King Arthur and the knights he has gathered rock up at the foot of Camelot and gaze up in awe at it. "Camelot!" Arthur declares to the party. "Camelot!" Galahad echoes in excitement. And a third "Camelot!" comes from Lancelot. What do we get in GO? Aziraphale leaps out of the Bentley (Crowley's black horse) and declares "The theater! Sophocles! Shakespeare!" I swear, if you put the two side by side, they would match. It's not just a reminder of how much time Aziraphale has seen pass by, or that we are seeing a tragedy play out. But damn it, I could so just see Aziraphale attending a Sophocles performance in Athens back in the day...]

Camelot was King Arthur's castle and home of his court. In S2 of GO the Windmill Theater is established as our court of Camelot where our 1941 Blitz-era Arthurian drama is to play out, involving Furfur and the zombies.

Yes, poor old Furfur. Two's company, three's a crowd, as they say. Now we know we're in Camelot, we need to be reminded of the central tragedy of the Arthurian story, that ultimately led to the golden kingdom's fall. Lady Guinevere, Arthur's queen, famously loved Sir Lancelot, and the two were passionate lovers. It was essentially a love-triangle at the top, with Arthur being jilted, but he wouldn't/couldn't discard his queen. Where do we see this playing out in 1941?

Furfur, pleased with himself for catching an angel and a demon in the act of consorting together (with the help of the zombies,) barges into the backstage dressing room, and confronts the lovers with their crime. But who is playing who in the Arthurian love triangle? I would say Furfur is clearly caught in the role of Arthur here. Consider the following exchange:

FURFUR: Hmm, well, well, well… What have we here? AZIRAPHALE: Sorry, have we met? FURFUR: Oh, no, you never had the pleasure, but… we have, haven't we? CROWLEY: Have we? FURFUR: What do you mean "have we?" You know we have. We were in the same legion. Just before the Fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember? CROWLEY: I remember going into battle, I don't remember being there with you. Sorry. FURFUR: I was right next to you. We did loads together. You use to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat. Anyway, whether you do or whether you don't, it doesn't matter. I'm here to inform you, as a representative of the Higher Powers of Hell, that you, Crowley, are in breach of the Infernal Code. Consulting and collaborating with an angel, Fell the Marvelous, aka… [opens book] Azirapalala. Azirapapap. Aziphapalala. AZIRAPHALE: [annoyed] Aziraphale

Furfur claims a past intimate relationship with Crowley, which Crowley spurns offhandedly. Crowley is playing Guinevere here, jilting Furfur/Arthur, which leaves the demon-smiting Aziraphale standing in for the handsome hero Lancelot (with his French connections, no less), and doesn't he make us weak at the knees when he drops his voice an octave in dominating disgust. (Is it suddenly getting hot in here...? Phew!)

Interestingly, looking back in S1 at 537AD Wessex, though, I would say that Crowley was Lancelot as the Black Knight, a role that Lancelot sometimes played in the legends, and Aziraphale would then be the fair maiden Guinevere. It certainly plays into Crowley's long term role of playing the knight who comes to the rescue of Aziraphale's princess in distress. Excalibur was no where in sight, perhaps still beneath the waters of the lake. Nor Arthur. Perhaps it was still too early in the story then...

I had originally suggested in my very first post that Furfur was given a stag as his demon avatar because he was wearing horns for being cuckolded by Crowley. But I wasn't quite thinking about it in context with the Arthurian legend! The stag is also often associated with royalty, plus while wandering around the medieval bestiary website that someone linked to, it interestingly notes that the enemy of the snake is the stag and the stork (Shax's avatar.) Ah ha!

So how can we extrapolate this knowledge into a possible appearance of the Arthurian theme in S3?

Will we see the love triangle of Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot come back into play and cause more chaos? I'm wondering if it might have something to do with the Fall.

Or will our lovers bring down a divinely-appointed ruler via their committed behind-the-back defiance of expected propriety?

Will Excalibur appear from beneath the waters, perhaps in another form, to declare a new king?

Could it even be a combination Jesus/Arthur, King of the World, returned? And they turn out to be a very naughty boy, disappearing into the night clubs of Times Square, New York, and that's how they lose him? (Social media viral sensation, anyone?)

I wouldn't be half-surprised if Greasy Johnson's name turns out to be Arthur, actually.

And no, I haven't forgotten that Adam's dad was named Arthur as well.

Bring on S3!

**Bonus**

If you've made it this far and you're thinking:

Let me leave you with this last connection.

In the back stage change room, remember Furfur delivers these lines:

FURFUR: What do you mean "have we?" You know we have. We were in the same legion. Just before the Fall. Doing dubious battle on the plains of Heaven. Remember?

On the first level, he is referring the Great War in the Good Omens AU.

On the second level, Furfur is paraphrasing Milton's Paradise Lost.

On a third level, I can (and will in a future meta) connect this back to the training initiative paintball fight at Tadfield Manor in S1.

And even deeper on a fourth level, if you do know the Holy Grail movie well, you'll remember there is an odd little subplot in it, that infers that the whole King Arthur and his knights thing is merely a full-on violent cosplay that is murderously rampaging across the countryside in the present day with the police in hot pursuit. It's a strange juxtaposition between reality and dream, and you aren't quite sure what it is real or not. The ending is bizarrely and abruptly surreal as the two story lines collide in the heat of battle, as the police turn up and arrest the combatants. A bit like this:

[canonical-transformation]

Adopt/adopt/adopt (Genshin)

The game is like "fuck/marry/kill", "isekai as/befriend/archenemy", etc.

You have to pick which Genshin character(*) gets adopted by (1) Cloud Retainer, (2) Arlecchino, and (3) a ship of your choice(**).

(* at any time in their lives where it makes a significant difference, e.g. post-Vision Hu Tao, post-fight Kaeya or Diluc, pre or post Tatarasuna Kabukimono, etc.)

(** fanon non-dysfunctional picks include Kavetham, Cynonari, a Lisa OT4, Beiguang. But if you want Chilumi Arlefuri Neuvichi Wriowinne yeah sure you do you)

@narcoticwriter @awake-my-oceans @emanation-aura @chrysoula @paragon-arthur hi! ty for putting this idea in my head. Eula Nahida Ruu

[riverwriter]

HP Rants: Arthur and Molly Weasley

I don’t like them.

I said it.

They’re wildly financially irresponsible. You don’t bring seven children into the world without having the means to provide your youngest son with one of the most basic thing he needs in life. (A wand- Ron’s initial wand was a hand me down which didn’t really suit him, and when it was broken he didn’t get a replacement until they happened to win some prize money.)

They lived the whole series on one income despite the fact that all the children were out of the house for 6 of the 7 books.

Arthur never moved up in the Ministry because he was caught up in his obsession with muggles. And Molly just never got a job.

If they wanted a family, especially such a big family they should have stepped up. And I find it so difficult to write them as these paragons of virtue some people see. Have I missed something?

[george228732]

AU stuff

Kirby (Doesn't have a full name, he's just formerly known as Kirby)

Bandana Gogolich Dee (Inspired by Nikolai Gogol, and his stories making Bandee Russian.)

Dedede Campanello Alkaios (Inspired by Campanella from Night on the Galactic Railroad, and Campanella is an Italian name, so Dedede's Italian)

Metaniono G. Fenix (Inspired by Giovanni from Night on the Galactic Railroad, with Meta's full name meaning Regret in Latin, and the Fenix referencing a Phoenix. Meta is German.)

Fylass (Paragon) Nolde/Nol-Dee (Inspired by Pennen Nolde and Emil Nolde, Fylass is German)

Cosmounse Gusuko Nenem (Inspired by The Life of Budori Gusuko and Pennen Nenemu, Cosmounse is German.

Galacta H. Fenix (Inspired by Hamlet and Fenix referencing a Phoenix. Galacta is German)

Arthur Hevelius Pendragon (Inspired by Arthurian Legends and Johannes Hevelius, the father of the moon charts. Arthur is Welsh)

[gethoce]

''A letter is sent down the GSA Headquarters, titled ''A Request'', these are the contents from it.''

''Greetings! To whoever gets this letter, I will introduce myself, as I have a confession to do. My name is Fylass Paragon, and I am one of the few remaining ancients in these current times. I've never been wanting to share this, but I feel like I should be giving out information to the people that need it. I am sure that whatever gets out of my mouth regarding the Ancients could be useful for someone like you.

If you are interested, I live in Planet Popstar, in Cookie Country, to be exact. I have more than enough evidence to confirm any of your suspicions. I hope that this could help to cleanse my sins.''

-Fylass

Sir Arthur originated from ancient Shiver Star and used to be quite infamous for his cruelty. He has changed his ways since and made sure to make up for his past mistakes, yet the idea of someone potentially knowing of his crimes is not something he takes lightly.

On the bright side of things this also means that he won't be hostile towards Fylass for their own past sins.