#Gilgamesh admits to himself that he's a little moved

[softquietsteadylove]

Thenamesh. Tomb Raider. AU. Please.

Gil did his best to swim to the surface but it wasn't easy. The tunnel he had followed let out to a rather violent section of the river. He had chosen this slightly riskier path entirely because he had thought it might give him a head start on Thena.

Did Thena make it out okay?

He had bigger problems to worry about, like surviving this river.

He fought to the surface, gasping in what air he could before he was tossed aside again. Okay, so choosing the tunnel section close to the rapids was not his wisest decision. He was trying to think like his more reckless and impulsive colleague!

Colleague probably wasn't the right word for what they had. A frenemyship...a rivalry...some tension that he knew he felt, but was quite sure Thena was oblivious to. Not that it mattered now that he was drowning.

"Gil!"

He was hallucinating now. Much closer to drowning than he thought--great. He hit a rock under the water, its speed overpowering all the muscles he had worked so hard for. His air left him in one gulp.

He wasn't sure if it was a hallucination or not when he saw Thena in front of him. His eyes were barely open when she swam down to him. The river was calmer further from the surface. She swam right up to him, pressing her lips to his, pushing air from her lungs into his.

He must be dying, he thought.

Thena's hands gripped the straps of his bag, urging up back into the momentum of the river. He knew she was plenty strong herself. She would have to be, to be called 'Tomb Raider' by those in their profession, freelance or otherwise.

Thena gasped loudly as she surfaced first, then forcing his head up as well. "Breathe, you bastard!"

He didn't know how necessary the name calling was. But he did take in a breath--a real breath of air. So, he wasn't hallucinating, and he wasn't dead. He was surprised.

"Come on," she growled, still fighting against the current to keep him afloat. "Just keep breathing."

He tried his best, although he was waterlogged, to put it lightly. He felt her sharp talons of fingers creep around his pockets, finally pulling at the zipper of his bag, "hey!"

Thena grunted as she finally disposed of the counterweight he had in his side pocket, expressly for the purpose of switching out certain artifacts, potentially surrounded by traps. "Not a world of difference, but a stone is a stone."

He wasn't sure if that was a crack about how heavy he was or if she really was talking about the rock he was planning on switching out.

They did eventually make it to the side of the river. Thena grabbed onto the riverbank first, fingers dug into the grass and holding onto the strap of his bag for dear life. "Come on."

Gil groaned, dragging himself up out of the water after her. He did feel heavier after his impromptu river ride, he had to admit. He coughed up some water, although he was pretty sure he could hear Thena doing the same. "Thanks."

She remained facing away from him, also fighting to catch her breath. He had underestimated just how strong she was, apparently, given her ability to drag him to shore with those thin little arms. "Imbecile."

"Okay," he huffed, turning over to sit on his butt and lean back on his palms to gasp in the rest of his air. "I'll send you a card, I guess."

"What were you thinking?!"

Gil stared at her as she grasped the front of his soaking wet shirt, shaking him. Her voice was raw and warbled from the shouting and the almost drowning. But it was more than that; she had tears in her eyes.

She shook him again, looking terribly upset (angry and otherwise). "Why didn't you follow me?"

"I-I-" he shook his head, still stunned.

She grabbed his shirt with both hands now, pulling him closer so she could really shout in his face. "Why didn't you follow me?!--down my tunnel! It leads further downstream, at a lower altitude!"

She seemed awfully upset with him for...almost dying? Gil let her grab and shake him all she wanted though. Whatever helped her get it out (and not start punching him). "I didn't know. This was the way I came in."

"You could have died, Gil," she asserted, since apparently it bared repeating. She never called him Gil.

"I-" he blinked, sitting up more properly and gently reaching up to her hands. He tried to pry them away from him gently, and she let go as soon as he touched her. But her hands were so small, and so soft, and now they were so cold, too. He held them in his, "I'm sorry, Thena."

She didn't have a clever response to him holding her hands and wholeheartedly apologising. He still wasn't sure why he was apologising for almost dying on her, but what the Lady wanted, the Lady got.

Thena sighed, her hair now hanging around her cheeks limply after their little log ride. "I thought I was the reckless of the two of us."

The two of them made quite a pair, he thought. He chuckled, looking up at her in her hunched position up on her knees. His hand drifted, and he almost wondered what it was doing. He pushed back some of her loose strands escaping her braid, tucking them behind her ear again. "Guess I had to beat you to it, just this once."

Fuck, she was beautiful. If only her very existence didn't interfere with every job he had ever taken.

Thena looked him over, determining if he really was fit to travel or if he was having one last surge before croaking right in front of her. But she must have been satisfied, because she rocked back on her heels before standing. "Just this once, Gilgamesh."

He mourned how she called him Gil.

"Are you able to walk?" she asked more genuinely, more firmly, and more like her usual self. She glanced at him over her shoulder (with as little effort as possible). "Or should I come back for you."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he insisted, even as he let out a loud groan to get on his feet again. "Maybe if I tell them I almost died trying to get that stupid idol they'll still pay me for my trouble."

"You did technically find it," she shrugged as they began trudging back to the main basecamp around the remains of the city. "I would vouch that your finder's fee still applies."

He smiled, tired as it was. Her shoulders sat lower than before, and she had never looked more delicate to him. But he dared to nudge her shoulder with his elbow, "thanks for saving me."

She declined to respond to that.

If she wanted to walk in silence then so be it. But he had to wonder, "where's the idol."

"Bottom of the river."

Fuck.

"It was made of gold, Gilgamesh, I could not possibly have swam with that on my person."

She abandoned it...for him? He looked at her curiously, but apparently his eyes burning a hole in the side of her head was low down on her priority list.

"Which means my finder's fee also applies."

Ah, that was more like the Thena he knew. He chuckled, soaking up the sun, both for the warmth and in hopes it would help dry out his clothing. It was stuck to him like a second skin. He would worry about Thena, but her raiding outfits tended to stick to her like a second skin already.

Not that he had noticed.

"I can always go back for it."

He laughed more fully, even though his lungs still ached a little. She elbowed him for it this time, and damn her elbows were pointier than his. But he let it slide, given how she did forsake a great treasure to save him. "No racing this time."

"It was never a race," she rolled her eyes at him. "And if it were, I had beaten you anyway."

Ah, Thena never changed. And he kind of didn't want her to.

#Thenamesh Tomb Raider AU #I give the people what they want!!! #I hope you don't mind I'm continuing on that other prompt I had #I did my homework! #I watched the movies #tried to get a sense of her character #I like the idea of Gil being another freelancer #and the poor guy is constantly losing contracts because the Tomb Raider got here first #meanwhile he's like Thena please some of us have bills to pay #she looks at him like yes my house is huge it has many bills #They drag themselves to basecamp #Gil is like so I did find it...and now it's gone #they're like the fuck bro #but Thena glares at them like A MAN ALMOST DIED #she lays right into 'em because she doesn't give a flying fuck about these old bastards and what they think of her #Gilgamesh admits to himself that he's a little moved #not just that Thena doesn't want him dead #but that she would feel strongly enough to yell about it? #he thinks yelling is her love language #also he does send her a card #and flowers #and it thanks her for saving his life #and he draws a little 'x' to “return the kiss” #Karun and Druig back at the estate are like exCUSE ME??? #Thena: *throwing the whole bouquet into the fire* it's nothing #pt 2

[thisfairytalegonebad]

“It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.” - Gladio & Prompto, roadtrip

After over a year: Prompt #22 of the Love List!

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

“Are you sure you got this?” Gladio asked, eyebrow raised as he watched Prompto struggle to pull their camping gear from the car. “It’s not gonna rain tonight, we can just sleep under the stars.”

“I got it!” Prompto snapped, grinding his teeth in a rare display of annoyance - a testament to how long a day they’d all had. “It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look! It’s just stuck.”

As if Gladio didn’t know exactly how heavy their stuff was, given that he was usually the one lugging it around.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Gladio said, figuring he didn’t need to rile Prompto up any more. “Here, let me see where it’s stuck.”

Prompto grumbled a little under his breath but moved to let Gladio peer into the trunk.

“Should come free now if you give it a good tug”, Gladio said, pushing down on the gear with his uninjured arm while Prompto pulled so it didn’t get caught again.

Indeed, this time, Prompto pulled it free with ease, lifted it out of the trunk with a little less ease, and carried it towards the haven with - well, actually, he wasn’t struggling nearly as much as Gladio had expected. Huh. All the training and now real-life combat seemed to pay off after all.

Gladio shut the trunk and followed, deciding not to mention the way Prompto swayed a little under the weight. They’d had a long day, and Prompto, though uninjured, had to be exhausted like the rest of them. This wasn’t the time for jokes at his expense.

Back at the haven, Gladio checked in with the other two. Noct, spread out on the ground and already asleep, was doing alright but had no intention of moving anytime soon, as half-coherently managed to inform Gladio when prodded awake. At least he wasn’t injured, but having pushed himself to the point of stasis, chances were Noct was going to spend the next 24 hours reenacting Sleeping Beauty.

Ignis sat next to Noct, head no longer bleeding thanks to the bandages they’d wrapped him up with, but he was definitely still dazed and was slow to react when Gladio nudged him gently. He did, however, answer any typical post-head-injury question Gladio threw at him, which had to be enough. Not good, definitely worrying that he wasn’t up and about and trying to cook at all, but all things considered, this was probably as good as he was going to be until they got a potion into him.

Once he was neither of his friends was on the brink of death just yet, Gladio unfolded two camping chairs for him and Prompto and deposited them by the fireplace.

…the fireplace, which was distinctly lacking a fire, would continue to lack a fire if he didn’t think of a way to start one that didn’t require the use of two hands like his trusty flintstone did.

Gladio sighed, making a mental note to finally teach the others how to start a fire once everyone was back on their feet.

They’d told him the story of how they’d nearly burnt down their tent trying to start a fire by tossing a firaga flask at the firewood when he had been away challenging Gilgamesh. He had laughed at them back then, mental image too funny to not grill them about every chance he got. Prompto and/or Noctis respectively, or maybe collectively, coming up with an idea like that was funny enough but not very surprising, but what made it truly hilarious was that Ignis had actually let them do it.

…though it looked like Gladio was forced to admit that maybe the idea wasn’t terrible, it was just the execution that sucked big time.

Mind made up, he wandered off the rock and to one of the elemental deposits just below the haven.

He had never been the most gifted at using magic and later had mostly given up on it as both Noct and Ignis were more than proficient in its usage. Still, he had undergone the basic training and retained enough from it to know what he was doing as he pulled an empty flask from the armiger and focused on the Crystal’s pulsing magic.

The result was a laughably weak fire spell, one that would’ve barely singed the hairs off a voretooth’s back if applied in battle, but that, at the very least, meant that he wasn’t very likely to burn their tent down tonight.

Gladio climbed back up the haven, made sure Prompto was properly busy with the tent and tossed the flask into the firewood as carefully as possible.

The flask exploded with more force than planned, but the wood was on fire and his eyebrows were still intact, and he didn’t think anyone had witnessed him using the very same trick he’d given the others shit for.

Content with himself, he wandered over to Prompto, who was struggling to put up the tent by himself but handled himself pretty impressively once Gladio held the poles for him.

Once the tent was standing, Prompto threw himself down next to the fire, groaning dramatically as he spread out like a starfish.

“That’s it, I’m done for today.”

Gladio grinned. “Guess dinner’s up to me, then?”

“Yep. About time you pulled your weight, big guy,” Prompto said, rolling over to go poke at Noct.

Noct, no more coherent than the last time they’d managed to wake him up, declined the offer of dinner with a mumble neither of them could quite make out, but the fact that he fell right back asleep two seconds later spoke for itself.

Ignis, who was awake but still dazed, turned fairly green at the very idea of having to eat anything, so Gladio just made him drink some water before helping him lie down inside the tent.

After a moment of consideration, Gladio resorted to just dragging Noct into the tent by his ankle, earning himself a weak scolding from Ignis and zero reaction from the Prince himself.

“Guess it’s just us for dinner,” Gladio said, nudging Prompto with his boot. “How do you feel about Cup Noodles?”

“Not quite my idea of a romantic dinner for two, but alright,” Prompto sighed, finally hauling himself into a sitting position. “How’s your arm?”

Gladio moved the arm experimentally, range of motion restricted by both the bandages and the sling it was resting in. “Definitely felt better. Think the wrist is broken and the rest is bruised to hell and back, but at least it doesn’t seem like anything’s out of place. Really can’t wait to get my hands on a potion, though.”

The problem with relying on potions was that you kind of forgot how to deal with pain and, more importantly, the restrictions that came with being injured. More than once since they’d made camp, Gladio had instinctively attempted to use his arm and immediately regretted it as his body informed him just why that was a terrible idea. They definitely had to be more careful in the future; today had been a close call Gladio’d rather not repeat anytime soon.

That said, Prompto had handled himself and his incapacitated friends remarkably, and Gladio was determined to let him know as much.

“You did good today,” he said, pouring the water over the noodles and handing one cup to Prompto.

Prompto immediately got that deer-in-the-headlight look on his face, the one that appeared every time he was complimented. Maybe they should compliment him more, Gladio thought. Get him used to it.

“You mean that?!”

“Sure. Fighting, but also picking up the slack when the rest of us was out of commission.” Prompto had, after all, jumped into the driver’s seat without hesitation and absolutely floored it to get as much distance between them and the Red Giant that had materialized out of nowhere, and then continued to drive them to the nearest haven, dodging daemons and imperial troopers alike.

“Think we should let you drive more often.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Prompto exclaimed. “I’m a great driver, you guys are just mean!”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say you’re a great driver… but you’re not entirely terrible. Tell you what, I’ll put in a word for you next time.”

Prompto toasted at Gladio with his noodles. “I’ll hold you to that!”

--

Read the entire “100 Ways to Say I Love You” project on AO3.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #gladiolus amicitia #prompto argentum #thisfairytalegonebad's writing #so it's been like 14 months #but i finally managed to write something again #it's not groundbreaking and i'm definitely rusty but i'm still decently happy with it!

[m0chaminx]

Druig | Promise Me

*•.¸♡Request : none

*•.¸♡Prompt : none

*•.¸♡𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : The cutest shit I've ever written, Tiny little angst, cute pure fluff

*•.¸♡Paring : Druig x F!reader

*•.¸♡𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : You like Druig + Druig likes you = cute confession

*•.¸♡words : 787

Druig was never one for parties or festivities, anyone who actually observed him would know that. Ajak knew this but would always insist he go, he always agreed but never truly for her, he went for you. To see you entertain the children, smile and wave to those too scared to dance, he wanted to watch you laugh and spin as you danced with the people of Babylon. But now, he watched you cower behind Kingo in embarrassment as Sprite told stories of you, Y/N the protector. "She keeps the evil at bay," Sprite yelled making her gold illusions show you holding a Deviant back with the circle patterns of your shields. "She shields those in need. She is a fierce protector." Sprite moved the illusions to display you floating over a little town moving a sharp shield at a serpent Deviant.

"Didn't you chop that snake in half that day?" Gilgamesh asked in a hushed voice, leaning over knocking shoulders with you. You let out a little laugh your chest still tight in embarrassment. You spun your head to look at Druig but once he caught your gaze he stepped off to the side, leaving the festivities.

You quickly hopped up from your seat rushing after to follow him. You ran to a hall going to open the first door when you caught sight of him through a window. He was stood out in a grass field where the very edge of the sunset could be seen.

"Druig," You called walking out to him, you came to a stop as you stood next to him. "Everything okay? You just kinda up and left," He turned his head to look at you, but it only lasted a moment before he took a seat on the ground. You stared at him in slight confusion as he looked over at the disappearing light. Druig leant back setting his arms behind his head so he was comfortable on the ground. He stretched his legs out using his knees to nudge the skirt to a better angle, he looked up at you and gestured for you to lay with him. You took a seat next to him but Druig tugged on your arm making you fall in the grass. You let out whispered curses as Druig chuckled at you, his dimples popping out more. You swatted his chest lightly, and let out a quiet giggle.

"It's pretty tonight," Druig observed his gaze fixated upwards on the small stars that started to appear, your eyes scanned his face watching his smile grow in amusement. His eyes flickered over to yours and his lips twisted into a cocky smirk. "I meant the sky my love, not me."

You pushed yourself to rest on your hip but most of the weight was supported by your elbow. Your free hand reached over brushing the hair from his eyes, which was tossed slightly from the wind. "Maybe I meant you," You whispered in a confession, some part of you wished the wind swallowed your words.

Druig was stern sometimes even plain cold to people, some part of you wondered if he was interested in emotions at all, let alone love. But the pet names, lingering touches and the nervous stares, and possessiveness keep you from anyone who looked at you twice, giving you the confidence to try.

"What?" Druig questioned in shock, pushing himself to his elbows.

"I think you're pretty," You repeated moving to sit on your knees. " I think you're smart, you're complicated and I know you have a temper, that you think you're better than the others." Druig's eyes ran over your face as your eyes darted around trying to avoid his gaze. "But I know you're sweet, and that you really care about us, and even if you won't admit it, you love these humans, these people." You took a final nervous breath before finally meeting Druig's eyes. "And I know I love you, and I'm like eighty-seven per cent sure you love me too." Druig chuckled at your rambling. He moved so he could hold your face in his hand.

"You are the most adorable thing ever, my sweet, sweet Y/N," Druig whispered and finally, after years of waiting Druig kissed you. Druig's hand trailed up to hold your waist pulling you closer. You fell forward catching yourself on Druig's thighs. As Druig held you closer to deepen the kiss, your right hand moved to hold his face.

Druig pulled away, leaving soft pecks on your nose and forehead, "Promise-Promise, you'll stay with me," Druig whispered, tangling his hand in your hair.

"You smiled trailing your thumb over his cheek and bottom lip, "That, I can promise you in every lifetime."

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

#the eternals #marvel #marvel x reader #eternals mcu #druig x reader angst #druig eternals #marvel eternals #eternals #eternals movie #the eternals spoilers #druig x reader fluff #druig x reader #druig #druig x you #druig angst #druig fic #druig oneshot #marvels eternals

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

How will Caster Gil’s s/o cope with his bad sleeping habits?

Hello anon, thank you for the request. Actually, yeah. I wonder about that too. I did once read an incredible one about a similar topic of Caster Gilgamesh being overwhelmed, which is also a great read!

All right, I'll give it my best ;3

Also Caster Gilgamesh is such a mood to the culture of overwork tbh, it make me feel kinda sad.

S/O Dealing with Caster Gilgamesh's Bad Sleeping Habits

- It had been months, if not almost an entire year since Caster Gilgamesh had taken a proper night's rest.

- He was up long before the cockerel crowed at the crack of dawn, and would remain that way- for even longer than the most nocturnal of night owls.

- In other words, he was working himself to DEATH.

- Whenever you'd visit, to assuage his doubts and reassure him that it's fine if he takes a nap; Caster responds with a simple "I do not require your concern. It is my duty as a king to work peerlessly to ensure that the buffoons' operating within Chaldea do not scrimp upon their duties." Although his words are harsh, what he really means is that he doesn't want you to worry about him. Just having you visit is more than enough.

- However, for you- who has to witness Gilgamesh running himself ragged on a daily basis- such words do naught to appease the doubt gnawing within your chest.

- Often finding yourself in bed alone, your only signal as to Gilgamesh's presence would be when his entire body would flop onto the bed at only the ungodliest hours of night. Not even sparing the time to materialize into a set of pyjamas, he would instantly fall asleep; decked in his regular gear and all!!

- Worried for his health, you'd often help out by removing his shoes (yep he didn't even remove those!!) and sliding his body over so that he could sleep soundly under the bed covers (he didn't even bother to tuck himself in). Sometimes, you'd even have to apply plasters to wounds or even place hot flannels on his face to regulate his temperature. That's how bad he was at taking care of his health.

- You even went as far as to carefully place his stone tablets by the bedside table, due to his overwhelmingly bad habit of literally taking his work to bed with him.

- When Caster Gilgamesh regains enough energy to resume his regular toil for the day, he's secretly moved by how you put in the effort to tuck him in every night. Softly kissing the temple of your forehead, he whispers his gratitude in your ear- only then to sigh once he realizes that you purposely put his tablet in the wrong area gain. "Honestly, this mongrel..."

- The truth is, you're struggling. Not only is he as stubborn as an ox whenever you or others try to negotiate with him, but he won't let anybody help him either! And to top things off, you missed his company greatly. Strangely enough, the two of you did most of your bonding during missions and events (because during those times he'd either be on a rare vacation or assist you for his daily work instead); which meant that you had barely any room at all for couple time!!!

- Tomorrow was a Saturday, which meant that he would be off for the weekend. In other words, it was the perfect time to confront him-once and for all! Resolve steeled within your heart; you prepared yourself for an extremely long night.

- Caster Gilgamesh is GOBSMACKED once he returns to his room. Usually, you'd be fast asleep when he enters. But this time, you had prepared a massive surprise for him. Softly glowing candles were lined across the rooms, illuminating it within a serene light; as the healing scent of lavender embraced the room. In your hands, you had none other than a massager and relaxing ASMR binaural CD set (of whales swimming in the sea) to help Gilgamesh relax to.

- He won't say it aloud, but to come home to a feat like this means a great deal to him.

- Although he is weary, his red eyes flicker with a slight ebb of amusement; as he gathers enough energy to smile. "What possesses you to be roaming around at the witching hours of night, mongrel? Has being on your lonesome made you that eager to embrace your king?"

- Your deadpan reply of "FUCK YES." leaves him utterly startled, to the point where he has to hide an enormous blush- blossoming wildly around his ears. "But look, Gilgamesh. As you're probably on the verge of passing out right now, let me make this quick." As he shrugs off his mini jacket (?)-your hands softly massaging the tight muscles rippling through his back-you finally begin to speak.

- You explain to him that although you understand that he has to work, it would be nice if he could stop overworking; both for his sake and also so that you could spend some more time together as a couple as well. As he often spent the weekends between many groups of people, the two of you barely spent any time on your lonesome.

- "I cannot adhere to such a request. What ails Chaldea ails me in turn, hence why I must continue to toil. Mongrel. I request that you do not press the matter any further. Nonetheless, I shall reward you greatly for the honor you have bestowed upon me tonight. I do adore the delightful little sounds those whales make." Caster Gilgamesh refuses to budge, his words bearing upon your heart like a heavy stone. As he sighs with bliss at your massage skills, you struggle to hold back the tears pricking your eyes.

- It is a long, and lonely night. Staring up at the ceiling as Gilgamesh snores softly by your side, you frown. Was this it, after all? Was this what could possibly break the two of you up?!! Such worries made it all but impossible to enjoy a good night's rest.

- The weekend passes as usual, with the two of you mainly hanging out with separate groups. The heavy weight drowning your heart- like a rock sinking beneath the tumultuous waves of the sea- only heightens in intensity.

- That is until Gilgamesh shocks you in return with a surprise of his own?!!!

- Seated atop your bed at a time as early as 10PM (omg), Caster Gilgamesh apprehends you with a brilliant grin. "Ah, so you have finally decided to bestow your presence before me. Sit." Patting the space beside him with an energy much unlike his usual worn-out countenance, you can't believe your eyes. "Why do you stare at me so? Didn't I tell you that yesterday's activities were much to my liking already?!" A compliment. Yet another rare miracle had occurred.

- As soon as you sit beside him, expression as surprised as pikachu's own; he sidles towards you, a devious grin plastered on his face, as he wraps both arms around you. "Mongrel." Cradling his face against the crook of your neck, his breath lightly fans your face. "Wherever you wish to go, I shall take you there. All you need to do is say the word."

- "?!!" His riddle confuses you to no end. When you ask him what the hell he means by that, he slaps a palm to his forehead in agony.

- "Fool, what do you not understand?! I am professing my desire to take a much-needed rest, just as you suggested!" A blush yet again seeps through his features, for the most unfathomable reason. "After managing to delegate certain responsibilities by placing them on the shoulders of some rather, well, unusually...proficient mongrels; I now have the week off. I shall also be able to return to my quarters at earlier intervals on the odd occasion." As he revealed his true intentions, actual mirth warmed his expression; as you stared back in awe.

- He had heard your advice, and was actually taking it to heart?! "B-but I thought you said...I swear you said..." Your mouth flaps, pure stupefaction taking over your features. You were certain that he wasn't up for negotiation, so what lead to such a change in heart?

- "It would be unbecoming of me not to pay attention to the mongrel yapping at my heels." In Gilgamesh language, this meant that he actually wanted to spend some time with you as well. "Do not be so presumptuous, I shan't cease all work. However, I can archive more time for more... mundane activities, I suppose. I am simply repaying yesterday's favor." How bashful a reply this was!!

- As you thanked him, eagerly talking about the places you wanted to visit by his side and the things you wanted to do for your first ever couple's holiday, one could daresay state that a rather warm feeling radiated within his chest no way would he admit to that.

- It's a good thing you spoke to him about it. This time, he'll try to fit in some more time for the sake of his own health and for you, as well. not like he'll admit that though

#caster gilgamesh #asks #anon #my writing #gilgablog #fate series #fgo #THIS ALMOST BECAME A FULL FANFIC LMAO I HAD TO STOP THERE

[akampana]

Can you tell us more about the harem au? 👉👈

I had to take some time on this ask bec my THOUGHGHGHGGHTS but ill probably make several posts on this and make a masterpost just to keep it all in one place.

But first things first, as a general rule: If they've met before, they retain their memories of each other. Furthermore, the Harem au follows the FZ->FSN->FGO continuity.

How did it start?

Messy. It was extremely messy.

The harem AU has a lot to do with the order that each member appeared in Chaldea, and it definitely wouldn't have happened if they hadn't come home in this order.

Also I have one Arturia at NP1 (AND BOI DID I TRY SO HARD TO GET ANOTHER ONE BUT ALAS, the world has decided to preserve the harem)

Note: there is a significant gap between Lancer Diarmuid and CasGil

At the start, there was a large period of time when it was just Gilgamesh, Cú, Arturia and (Before the Fire)CasCu. And since she remembers the 5th HGW (FSN) she was most inclined to spend time with Lancer Cú over Gil.

Lancer Cú was essentially the first person to get close to her, but at the time she was still hung up on her first love and Cú wasn't too serious about his flirting. To him, she was a frequent sparring partner and a cute little outlet for teasing. That was it.

Gil tried (as far as his pride would allow), but it would be a long time before Arturia ever even gave him a chance.

Especially since the next person that arrived was Diarmuid. But not her Diarmuid. Saber Diarmuid.

More below

Saber Diarmuid was never shy about his affection for the King of Knights, but as much as she enjoyed his company, their memories differed. He, for one, could not understand why she always looked so guilty around him, while she did not understand why he had no reservations against her.

Saber Diarmuid came closest to starting something with the King of Knights' healing heart, but her feelings of guilt combined with the lingering love she still had for Shirou ultimately prevented them from moving forward. So, he instead got closer to someone who similarly had memories of a slightly different version of the King of Knights: (BtF)CasCu.

Then, there came Cú Alter

Because of her good relationship with the other Cú's, Arturia respects and protects Alter the same way, which pisses off the Mad King to no end because she treats him like a human. Plus, everything about her beliefs messes him up. He was forced to accept a crown of thorns and tried to raze the world to the ground knowing there couldn't be a crowd that would want him as king. She willingly accepted the burden of kingship and still ended up wanting to save her kingdom when her country turned their back to her.

This clash created a lot of tension between the two, but rather than drive them apart, it brought them closer. Close enough that Alter had the monopoly on her time. Close enough that even Master thought she would up with him after all.

Close enough to snap the other Cú's out of their stupor, because how could they lose Arturia to a corrupted version of themselves?

Saber Diarmuid was trying to spend as much time with her at this point, but suddenly master came out of the summoning room with the very person he thought could destroy all his chances.

Himself.

So now, everyone was faced with a problem. Even straight out of the summoning room, Lancer Diarmuid did not hesitate to pick up where he left off.

Gil had the disadvantage of his ill treatment of Saber during the 5th HGW, the Cú's only started bonding with her in Chaldea, but Diarmuid?

She and Diarmuid had a history that ran deep. It was obvious Lancer was full on in love with Arturia from the very start. There was no awkwardness, no transition, just Diarmuid fully taking advantage of being reunited with his Arturia.

He was the first to tell her he loved her.

And this is where Gilgamesh, who'd been slowly earning her trust be accompanying her on missions and speaking with her whenever he was able, finally snapped.

Gil could excuse her having friends. He also understood the unworthy mongrel's desire for her, because of course his dear queen would be so widely coveted.

But he was not going to stand by and watch as another mongrel took her away.

So he told her everything. How he really felt about her kingship from back in the 4th HGW, how he waited for the 5th, how bloody mad she drove him when she was away, how he felt.

And now Arturia was faced with a slew of emotions that would take time to unravel.

Gil and Diarmuid admitted their feelings. Saber Diarmuid and CasCu were beyond confused about theirs. Cú Alter was off somewhere dismissing every possibility that he was worthy of her love in the first place.

And Arturia...did not understand. She'd been so focused on the love she lost that the possibility of starting a new one was novel to her. Yes, she'd come to care for all these people so deeply, but she was hesitant to let herself feel anything more.

Maybe Shirou had gotten through to her because of his stubborn naivete, but she was still technically the same person who was accused of being unempathetic, who's to say how this would even go--

And Fujimaru Ritsuka was getting tired of their collective shit.

So like the good Master Ritsuka is, they basically ordered them to forget the drama and figure it all out. Clearly, everyone had issues they needed to settle with her, and clearly Arturia also had to figure things out on her own.

So, everyone hit the metaphorical restart button, installed a patience driver, and began again, this time with Arturia mostly aware of how they felt about her.

And that's how the Harem AU starts.

I'll continue with Part 2, including the others later on :>

#akampana asks #this was a long one huh? hahah #harem au

[oldestking]

               ⸻  ; @ardenssolis​​ said ;  TCH! Two could play this game! Without so much as a warning, he had already made to sprawl across Gilgamesh's lap, refusing to let him move and refusing to move all in one. Heh, be in awe of how subtle he was in comparison to yourself, Gilgamesh. Not everyone could be like him, he knew.  /  𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃

                       Well, well, just you look at who decided to appear... Ah, of course- who else could possibly come to his room without any sort of prior warning and make himself feel at home amongst the coldest of golds? The very fact that Ozymandias found the need to come despite his room being comfortable enough on its own made the corner of the king’s lips to slightly tug upwards in amusement. It was one of those days it seemed, the ones where the ever so spoiled sun descended once again to blatantly take his time as if it belonged to him, however this time, Gilgamesh couldn’t help but think about how incredibly shameless he’s been this time, for not even a single word has slipped past his lips- not even a small greeting! Did this blockhead seriously think of Gilgamesh as some sort of pillow or blanket he could come lay against whenever he pleased? It didn’t help that by his relaxed disposition, it was clear that Ozymandias had seemingly no intentions of moving, not even an inch.

How subtle you are with your little cravings...

❝ Deciding to not speak to me doesn’t really help you save face either, Ozymandias. Did you know that? ❞  Because he knew the reason behind his little visit, he knew that the other didn’t need help nor came to ask for anything in particular, no; he knews that the other came for no other reason than to bask in his glorious presence ! and how Ozymandias was clearly failing at making that desire seem subtle-

His fingers come to run absentmindedly through dark locks of hair for a moment as vibrant dark eyes focus on the top of the other’s head, or well; more specifically speaking- that little sprout shaped strand of hair poking out from the top of his head. Lifting his hand from the other’s locks of hair, a small thought comes to entertain the king as he twirls the other’s ahoge around his index finger as if he was merely playing with an old cellphone’s spiral cable. 

❝ Say ... why is it not the same with the other kings? Why can’t you simply go visit Arthur instead? You are rather picky with your cravings sun king. ❞  There is nothing shameful in admitting that he craves his attention !

#ardenssolis #v: ? #I can never pick archer or caster im crying- tho in this case; both versions would have the same reaction so -sparkles- #gil vc: It's OBVIOUS #actually you know what? I understand you wanting to save face by not speaking #it is rather embarrassing you need my attention so bad already so I'll pretend I do not see this; I understand. #(IM S O SORRY- HE'S SAYING THIS WHEN HE'S LIT THE SAMEEEE #EMBARRASSING!!!!

[secret-engima]

For the Night King AU, could we possibly see the thoughts of the Chocobros 1.0 when they meet/see their counterparts? We kinda got a vauge look at Regis' thoughts and a tiny glimpse of Clarus', but what do they think when they look at the Dark Retinue and see what could have been them? And does Clarus' realize that Iris is an Amiticia as well?

Hmmmmm lemme think. Not sure if this is gonna be what you want but- ramble? Not gonna do them all because my hands hurt but the ramble should be long enough to suit.

-Clarus sees the man with Amicitia gold eyes and brown hair stop Cor’s attack on the Accursed and his heart stops for several reasons. One- he fully expects Cor and the rest of them to die in the next there seconds by angry daemon, two- someone was actually fast enough to STOP Cor, in an instant, like it was easy and that’s never happened before, and three-

-That man looks like Clarus’s father. That man looks like CLARUS and it’s freaking him out. He wonders hysterically if the Accursed was using an illusion to make his guard look like an Amicitia as a joke, or if Clarus’s father had a brother that was presumed dead but was actually taken and molded into a servant by the Night King.

-Instead of turning violent though, the man just laughs a deep, quiet laugh and lets Cid and Weskham drag the breathless Cor back into their group, “Nice try kid, but you’re about three decades too early to pull that off.”

-Regis apologizes for Cor with a desperate edge that means he too fears reprisal, but the Night King just shrugs it off and summons another human (human!) to escort them to the dining room.

-The newcomer, named Prompto, mentions a “Gladio” a few times as they walk and Clarus wonders if that’s the Amicitia he saw.

-They learn ... quite a few things that night and the days following after, and when he’s not fretting over the others, Clarus is, admittedly, studying Gladiolus. Since learning that this Accursed is new, he’s been trying to figure out how far back in the family tree Gladiolus is. He acts like he’s known the Night King all his life, and there’s a brief mention of a childhood incident, which means the man is definitely not Clarus’s father’s brother.

-Honestly, Clarus can readily believe this Amicitia is ancient. Not in appearance, he only looks to be in his early thirties at most, but in soul? Oh yes.

-Gladiolus is old in a worn, battle-hardened sort of way that reminds Clarus of his few recollections of his grandfather. He’s friendly, not the violent, brutish thing Clarus expected of an Accursed’s Shield, but instead gentle. Tired. His temper rises fast as fire and snuffs as quickly as a candle, he answers questions patiently, and seems to keep his king on just as tight a leash as any other Shield (food and sleep seem to be the realm of Ignis’s care, but in other matters, Gladiolus keeps his king anchored, just as is tradition).

-Clarus wants to ask questions, desperately. He wants to ask how old Gladiolus is, where in the family tree he is, HOW he came to be the Shield of the Accursed’s Nephew but ... he doesn’t. He doesn’t dare. There is something dark lurking in Gladiolus’s gaze when they speak, something bleeding still, and Clarus does not want to further open a heart wound that is clearly still weeping.

-It doesn’t stop him from wondering, especially as the years go by and he lives in the Night Kingdom with Regis prior to Regis ascending Lucis’s throne, why a man as steady and unflinching as Gladiolus is nonexistent in the history records. In the family tree. Clarus has CHECKED. There is no sign of him even as far back as Gilgamesh.

-Clarus isn’t sure which is better, that Gladiolus was erased that thoroughly for whatever happened back then, or that no one in the family knew that he (or his SISTER and isn’t that a shock, one that takes much longer to realize since Iris is usually busy elsewhere in the Citadel and rarely sees Clarus) existed.

...

-Weskham doesn’t take long to decide he likes Ignis. There is a steadiness and experience to the blind man, and even though Ignis is very unnerving at times (the way he commands daemons, the way he effortlessly navigates and fights despite being blind), it is gratifying to have another who understands Weskham’s trials as a Hand of the King.

-After the treaty, after they have been kidnapped in all but name and intent (for Regis chose this, Regis agreed to this to spare his father and his kingdom), Ignis and Weskham take to spending afternoons in the kitchens together. Just the two of them, some new dish cooking in the ovens, and a cup of tea as they talk.

-Weskham enjoys their time, but he would also be the first to admit that Ignis is ... a little off sometimes. There is a jagged edge to him that will not smooth, it glitters in his words sometimes, in the fervent desperation that edges his shoulders when he spends too long apart from his King. There is a ... neediness there. A doubt. Like if he turns away for too long, Noctis will disappear into dust on the wind. All of the Dark Retinue (a silly nickname that Prompto insisted on using after hearing it) have that edge, but in Ignis it is the sharpest.

-“The last thing I ever saw,” Ignis tells him once, very quietly, on a rainy day where the tea has been spiked just slightly with wine, “was Noct. He was lying on the ground in the rain next to Luna, and he was ... he wasn’t moving. There was no sign-. I couldn’t see him breathing, and Ardyn was right there. I feared-.” Ignis goes silent and Weskham holds his breath despite himself. He still does not know how Luna was, she is someone they only mention in passing and in deep grief, but he knows enough about Noctis and his ... relationship with his now passed Uncle to feel a thrill of fear just at the retelling, “He was dead.” Ignis’s voice breaks just a little and Weskham feels his heart bleed for the older man, “I thought I had lost him. I swore to stay ever at his side. All his life I walked with him, since he was just a small child, and then I saw him, and he was so very still.”

-Ignis exhales, “I wonder sometimes, what he looks like now. I do not regret losing my sight, but sometimes I wish I could see him. Just once more. Just so that that is not the last moment.”

-Weskham tentatively touches Ignis’s hand in solidarity, and internally he shakes. Because he too was raised with his king from a young age. To have the sight of him almost dead on the ground be the last he ever saw of Regis, even if Regis survived... Weskham can’t imagine it.

-He doesn’t want to.

...

-Cid knows Iris is an Amicitia. He’s not BLIND and unlike Clarus he sees the girl a lot more often, since she and Talcott like to come sniffing around the workshop Noctis gave him.

-He’s more than a little sure the girl avoids Clarus when she can, because seeing him cuts up her insides even though she likes him.

-But she and Talcott don’t bother him, or get in his way, so he lets them visit. Sometimes they chat, either to him or over his head, and he learns a lot about their past from those cues.

-He learns Clarus looks like Iris’s and Gladiolus’s father. That Talcott’s family used to be retainers for Iris and Gladiolus’s. He learns that Iris can scrap with the best of them, but honestly prefers staying here and helping people with mending and fixing, because she’s seen too many things get broken in her life that can’t be fixed. Talcott is a busybody, but all his secrets he hoards to himself. He gathers gossip but never spreads it, and he likes learning things because when he was a boy, knowing things was the only way he could help. And even now that he’s grown, knowing things is his strongest weapon.

-Cid can sympathize. He didn’t grow up as one of Regis’s Retinue, and he doesn’t know a lot of courtly things or how magic works beyond the basics Regis taught him. But he does know the wilds, and the villages, and the common folk, and those were things Regis desperately needed to learn back in the day. He knows how to fight, but he prefers to fix because frankly there’s enough people going around breaking things and not enough fixing. Just look at how well Mors messed up Cor.

-Cid carefully doesn’t think about what it must have been like back when Iris and Talcott were small. How they had to help, had to KNOW things when they were only kids (or the nearest immortal equivalent). Cid was an adult when he met Regis, not a kid. He could shoulder that just fine. Them...

-Well. They’re adults now, and they seem happy enough, so Cid will let it go at that.

...

-Cor doesn’t like Older Cor.

-Oh he likes to FIGHT him, and he respects him a lot, but he doesn’t ... like him.

-Old Cor is too much like Cor, and so when Cor sees the ways Old Cor is broken, it means Cor could break in those ways too.

-But Cor is stubborn and curious, so he badgers Old Cor anyway, for fighting, for clues, for ... anything really. And here are some things he learns.

-Old Cor doesn’t like to be around Regis and the others. Not that he doesn’t like them (he loves them, Cor can see it in his eyes, that fervent burning edge that Cor sees in the mirror every morning) but being near them HURTS and both Cor’s tend to fight the things that hurt, so Old Cor stays away.

-Old Cor is protective. He’s protective of his home, of his kingdom, of the humans living in the Night Kingdom. But most of all he’s protective of Noctis and his Retinue, and despite his old joints and scars, he will kill anything that threatens them without hesitation.

-Old Cor is impatient. He’s like Cor, he wants to get things done NOW, but he’s got a much better control over that urge than Cor currently does, so he seems like he’s patient when he’s really not.

-Old Cor lost his King.

-It’s a bad realization. A harsh one that comes after Cor sneaks into the Accursed’s tomb when he shouldn’t have. But it makes sense. Old Cor walks like he is still following in someone’s shadow, two steps back and one to the left, even when no one is around. Old Cor still sometimes looks over his shoulder like he’s about to call someone, then stops and keeps walking. Old Cor spends some evenings nursing a bottle of wine, but for every glass he drinks he pours out two more.

-”Was it Noctis’s father?” Cor asks Old Cor once.

-Old Cor ... LOOKS at Cor and there is a sharpness there that comes less from a honed blade and more from the broken shards of one, “Yes.” Then, before Cor could ask more, Old Cor says, rough and hoarse and fragile “The original Accursed killed him. I was sent away to protect Noctis.”

-I was sent away, he didn’t let me die at his side why didn’t he LET ME STAY WITH HIM- screams between them, maybe Cor’s heart, maybe Old Cor’s. It doesn’t matter, they are close enough in everything else for this reaction to be shared too.

-Cor doesn’t ask about it again.

-One days when Old Cor is too broken and rough, when he genuinely has no tolerance for even looking at Cor, Cor goes and bothers Prompto instead. The man is always willing to fight him, or tell him stories, or just laugh at something Cor did that shouldn’t be funny but is anyway. Cor knows he should probably hunt for clues on Prompto too, but he caught a glimpse of Prompto’s wrist once, the black tattoo that looks suspiciously like a Niflheim slave brand, and even Cor knows that THAT is a line of questions he shouldn’t breach.

...

-Regis has a lot of thoughts on Noctis. At first, it’s terror. Terror at what he thought was the original Accursed, terror for what would become of his Retinue and himself at this monster’s hands.

-Except Noctis is no monster, he is painfully, achingly human, and that perhaps is even worse.

-After that he is wary of Noctis, and refuses to let himself think the words “Lucis Caelum” because if he does THAT then he’s going to ask questions and Noctis doesn’t deserve questions.

-It comes about anyway. There’s no denying his looks, his blue eyes, his magic. And the thought of the OG Accursed being related to the Lucis Caelum line in any way makes Regis’s skin crawl, but Noctis is sweet and kind and patient, and Regis cannot help but love the man like family even before the day he works up the nerve to ask if Noctis is really a Lucis Caelum and gets a soft “yes” as his answer.

(gonna stop there sorry because my hands hurt rn and just hgdhgfds)

#SE asks #spideypoolalways asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Demon in the Dark verse #long post

[fuwafuwamedb]

Golden Foresight Pt 2 (Rin, Gilgamesh)

Thus Far: 1

__

“Gilgamesh!”

It was late.

That fool, Tokiomi, had taken to commanding him to remain within the building for the time being. The complaints he’d given had been paltry at best, insulting at worst. There was little respect he could feel in his being as he had watched the man wander off to his wife for the time being.

However, it was not the man himself who came to him now.

The little one with her twin tails was not the man, but his child. Those bright blue eyes looked in at him, her hands holding the door carefully.

“Gilgamesh, I read through a few chapters of your book,” she told him.

Unsurprising, considering the fact that the woman was his future wife’s friend and ally in a war. He merely nodded to her, pulling a wine bottle from the depths of his closet and moving to sit in the little sitting area near his fireplace.

“…Can I ask questions?”

“Ask questions?”

“About the reading,” she explained.

Why would he care about whether or not the girl had questions about what she had read? Did she fail to understand that magic, in its basest of forms, was something that required apprenticeship? Mages were no different, requiring tutelage and a generous amount of inquiry. As with all things, one needed to have the ability to ask and receive proper training.

For his woman, he motioned the girl in, gesturing to the other seat in the room.

The girl had his book in her hands, her feet pattering across the floors as she hurried into the room and climbed onto the armchair. Whatever fear had been in her was gone now, replaced with a faint trace of wiggling.

“So, my first question is about the mana rivers.”

Gilgamesh leaned back, sipping at the average tasting wine. “What about them.”

“Do they mean the mana circuits? My father calls them-“

“Do not believe that fool of a man. Did I not tell you that from the beginning?”

“B-But he is teaching me how to use my magecraft. I can put some energy into gems and make them take on shape. Soon I’ll even be able to sculpt the shape myself!”

“Why can you not do that already?”

Rin blinked.

“Such things are that which a first day magician’s apprentice could easily accomplish. Shapes and energy are the most basic of techniques, requiring little effort. The only thing it requires is focus.”

“It’s harder than it sounds.”

All he could do was raise a brow at that, placing his hand over the table and closing his eyes. The wine bottle was no gem, but it was glass. At his command, he could feel the shape of the bottle changing, the great wings blooming forth and the majestic head growing forth from the spout of the bottle. He let the cork pop, flying into the room to land in parts unknown.

At the opening of his eyes, a wine bottle in the form of a great crane could be seen.

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!”

“It is not even a challenge, little one. Your father has filled your head with nonsense. I would lose the title for him. The mongrel hardly deserves it for his poor teachings.”

“Could I… Could you show me?”

This would be another favor.

He glanced around, finding nothing more that would be worthy of shifting into another object. The bottle’s integrity would become questionable if he did anything more with it.

No, he found himself pulling forth a gem from his gates, setting it before the child and putting his wine glass down.

“Can you listen carefully?”

“I’m a great listener,” the fool assured him.

“Then listen well to me.”

The ruby colored bird flew within a half minute of his teaching. Eyes alight, the young girl followed after it with her eyes, amazed and astounded at her own prowess. He forced her to give chase, to catch and bring it back to their seats and then taught her another trick.

“If you wish to spy on those whom do not want you in the room, you can use these little talents as well.”

Her eyes lost their color as she used the next trick. A bit of her mana flowed through the little mouse she made from her original little bird. It scurried off as he settled her body onto the seat nearby.

She had a talent for magic.

While he was not fond of her appearance and its rather overly coddled presence, there was a tenacity that lay there. Different from the woman whom she bore resemblance to, he would admit. She had drive, motivation that was not driven by the needs of her body or the desire she had to be seen and praised. Rather than that, she seemed to want to do things for the pleasure of them.

It would corrupt her later, this need for pleasure, but the innocence of a child was not a time for spoiling her hopes and aspirations.

The little mouse returned as his third glass was drained.

The blue color returned to her eyes, her face paling as she looked down at her hands.

“…M-my father doesn’t care at all about me.”

Gilgamesh raised a brow, watching the girl’s eyes begin to leak.

“He said it didn’t matter whether it was Sakura or myself. He just needed one child… Whoever looked to be more useful.”

“And you have proven yourself to be more useful.”

The girl lifted her knees, hugging them tightly as she began to sniffle. “I love my sister.”

The fool had said too much. Wherever he was, whomever he spoke to, it was clear that the mongrel had gone too far. His wife’s little friend would become useless now.

Children were meant to be left alone, to grow and develop like fools until they could learn and become strong soldiers and citizens.

“Did I not say to abandon him?” Gilgamesh asked, his own words foreign as he spoke them. “Am I not your teacher now?”

“Hmm?”

“Forget your father figure. They’re of little worth. A student should listen and follow the guidance of their teacher. After all, the man could not teach you in all this time what I taught you in mere minutes.”

#drabble #drabbles

[deepsought]

permanent plotter call. 

helllo gamers. fancy seeing you here... on this dash where we are all members of the same group—— anyway i’m a thief and i’m copying the latest trend but you know what ?? i have that right. i am the rules. insert other questionable and weird shit gilgamesh says. so yes, if it wasn’t clear, this is going to be a PLOTTER CALL for gilgamesh ! 

as this might get a little lengthy, i’ll be putting the basic relationship ideas i have under a read more. that said, if you like this post / reply with the number you think could work for gil & your muse, i’ll be able to message you with some idea of what you’re interested in ! it’ll also mean you’re open to me sending you memes, you sending me memes, the usual meme shenanigans.

01. aquaintances : started from the bottom and you’re still at the bottom. aka, this is how he would interact with most people. gilgamesh considers himself an adjudicator of humanity and does not like to get overly attached to individuals on that basis. he is an observer, detached from mankind as a being who is divine in origin. as such, he does not establish much of an emotional connection with most of the people he meets. he is still amicable to the prospect of offering guidance or assistance where he thinks it necessary ( and trust me when i say it takes a lot for him to involve himself personally ), so that isn’t to say it is impossible to start Something with him. but it takes quite a bit to move past this stage unless you really pique his interest, so to say. you’re all his subjects, basically, because he’s the eternally reigning king. 

02. friends : can we really say the king has any true friends ? maybe one. but even then, he was summoned in sort of an awkward stage of his life where he isn’t as comfortable approaching them as he might have been in another class. so, he isn’t the friendliest person in the world, if you haven’t already figured that out. certainly not as difficult to interact with as his archer self would be, but at the same time, he is still gilgamesh. at his core, he will always be egotistical and self-assured in his adulthood. that doesn’t mean people aren’t capable of earning his acknowledgement and later, his friendship. he may just never phrase it as such. he’d be more likely to say that you’ve ‘earned the king’s favor’ or something stupid like that. caster is kind of a pain, but he is loyal to a fault to those he cares for ( despite his less than desirable way of communicating it ). a small positive ? 

03. fellow rulers / divine beings / non-humans : i just think it might be neat for him to get to know any fellow royals or demi-gods / gods / whatever else is out there. i mean, like i said before, gilgamesh still considers himself the one true king. so long as mankind continues to exist, they will always be his subjects. but he is also at a stage of his life where he is appreciative of the insights of other rulers. he does not scorn them, nor would he dismiss their status as a ruler. even if he once held clairvoyance and knew all there was to know, he likes to hear the experiences of people from word of mouth too. any individual with divine blood or who was generally inhuman might also interest him depending on their character, as they fall outside of his self-imposed jurisdiction of ruling over ‘humanity’. he has no authority over those who are not ‘human’. oh yeah, but if you’re a god, he would instinctively dislike you - or at the very least be somewhat spiteful. generally speaking, the only god he actually likes is his mother. the rest are either hated, disrespected or just plain ignored ( but he is willing to cooperate out of necessity ). 

04. study buddies : are you a scholar ? a learned individual? do you have a talent or knowledge that would be otherwise useful in nation-building or otherwise ? then gilgamesh would be more open to speaking with you ! he is known to overwork himself on anything and everything. he drafted architectural ideas for uruk, played a key part in developing them, led armies and his people for years and built up a very successful kingdom to the point of being called the ‘sage king’. but as he needed the cooperation of the masses to accomplish this successfully, he has a genuine appreciation for those who have a talent and use it. use being the keyword here. he would honestly be very happy throwing ideas off of someone, no matter the topic, and hearing their own in return. he has familiarised himself with most every topic, scholarly or otherwise, so it doesn’t matter what field it is. 

05. romance : listen. look at me. he’s married to uruk and to paperwork. he’s a single dad to many kids he willingly adopted. chances are romance is the last thing on his mind. i am being very honest here but it’s just... it would take a lot of chemistry to make him think about anything other than working himself half to death. i won’t say its impossible. but it isn’t the most likely thing to occur. of course, people can have crushes on him if they so wish. i hate admitting it, but he’s pretty. i understand. and again, i’m not saying shipping isn’t going to happen. but i just. gilgamesh. 

06. dad noises : okay so listen. gil is not the best guy for interacting with. like, at all. but he does have dad inclinations. i have no other way to explain that beyond ‘dad inclinations’. welcome to my twisted mind. anyway, you don’t have to be a literal child for him to want to offer guidance and assistance where he can. he is just extremely soft on kids - to young children or young adults. his master is one example, as is mashu. his attitude ( or at the very least, his way of speaking ) typically remains the same, but he is nowhere near as harsh with them. instead, he’s much more willing to speak with kids and help them out. sometimes you just be living life and then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, you’re adopted by the king of heroes. 

07. dad noises 2.0 electric boogaloo : please do not question the name of this section either it is the thrilling sequel related to the above and i did not know what else to call it. i just ( points at ritsuka fujimaru ) if you have any association with his master, gilgamesh will make a point of knowing who you are and how you’re related to her. be it as a servant of hers or just someone she’s friends with, it’s an excuse that stands to reason why he’d be interacting with them. he might pretend that he isn’t protective, or that he doesn’t care much for her, but we all know that is a big fat lie ! their relationship is this vine and i will never change my stance on it. thank you.

and that’s all i can think of right now ! of course, if you had any of your own ideas that don’t fit in these, then i welcome them. honestly, these are just. kind of a mess. i don’t blame you. like i said before, if you like this post ( regardless of whether you mention a specific number ), i’ll message you at some point to butt heads and see what we can come up with ! thank you for reading ! 

#✧ ┋ ❝ THE KING'S MAGNAIMITY. ( ooc ) #isola rp ad #holy shit this got long.... be me an hour ago saying haha i have no ideas *ideas emerge* #its a little bit all over the place but you know what?? that's fine. it's late and i'm sleepy... it will do the job #but yeah i'll message people about this probably tuesday? i'm working tomorrow so i won't be free but... i'm off tuesday hehe

[oddnub-eye]

Mythology Drabbles #4

Since I know you like these @green-spear-of-causality.

Tried to include a little more dialogue than usual, lets see how they turned out.

Disclaimer:  Some of these drabbles are not presented entirely accurately to the source material they are drawn from. They are not meant to be entirely accurate. That being said, I hope you enjoy, and constructive criticism is always welcomed and encouraged.

                                                      ...

A Fated Death

The spears had come quickly, raining one after another from the nearby cliff. The first struck Laeg, and the charioteer fell with nigh a scream. The second struck Liath Macha, and the horse crumpled instantly, sending the chariot spinning. Cu Chulainn, the Hound of Ulster, was flung from the chariot, and before he could spring to his feet, the third spear stabbed through his torso.

The shock was immedient, and so was the realization that he had been ambushed. Cu forced himself to his feet, even through the pain shooting through his body. A smirk graced his face and he tore the spear from his torso.

“Well!? Warriors who have ambushed me! Show yourselves! You think I will go quietly!? No. I’ll take you all on!”

Cu turned and saw the hill above him lined with warriors. Lugaid mac Con Roi led them, drawing a sword.

“You can barely stand, Hound of Ulster. Admit you’ve been beaten.”

Cu smirked wildly, “That’s your problem!? Here, I’ll fix that for you!”

Cu dragged himself to a nearby standing stone, and fell to one knee as he reached it, coughing wildly. Lugaid and his forces approached slowly. The Hound of Ulster stood, strapping himself to the rock with his belt.

“Well Lugaid?” Cu asked, blood dripping down his face, “Good enough for you now!?”

Lugaid narrowed his eyes, “You’re too arrogant for a mere dog.”

“I’m too arrogant for a dog? Well, come on, let’s see if I’ve earned my arrogance!”

Lugaid roared and stabbed forward with his own sword. Cu deflected it with the spear he ripped from his own body, before tossing it aside, and drawing his sword.

Lugaid’s forces charged forward and Cu parried every blow. Men fell, and eventually they all fell back. Blood flowed from Cu Chulainn’s body, and the light in his eyes was dimming by the second.

That damned smile still graced his features.

A raven circled overhead, slowly flew towards him.

Cu murmured quietly, “I didn’t...I didn’t say goodbye to Emer, did I?”

The raven landed on Cu’s shoulder, and Cu closed his eyes, face set to a sad smile.

It’s always something with me, ain’t it.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Gods’ Punishment

Enkidu was dying. That much was obvious. His skin had grayed, his hair had whitened, his eyes had paled out, their vibrant red to a sickly pink. It was like the very life was being sucked from Enkidu.

This was no illness. This was punishment.

Gilgamesh kneeled by his friend’s bed, torn between crying and destructive anger. The floor around Gilgamesh and the walls of the room were dotted with craters. Shamhat stood in the corner, having also come to be with Enkidu in his final days.

Gilgamesh stared at the ground quietly. Shamhat shuffled towards him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. Gilgamesh shrugged her off, and Shamhat understood, backing off.

Enkidu could barely speak, so he rasped out, “Gilgamesh. My friend. I can feel my senses fading. I feel this is my last day on this Earth.”

Gilgamesh's voice cracked, “Talking so poetically doesn’t suit you, Enkidu.”

“Shut up.” Enkidu gasped.

“That’s better,” Gilgamesh smiled sadly.

Enkidu’s body was racked with coughs, blood dripping out from his mouth.

“Do you need anything?” Gilgamesh whispered, propping Enkidu up on his cushions.

Enkidu could barely work a smile, “Just...you...and Shamhat...please stay with me...as I go…”

Shamhat made her way over, and Gilgamesh made space for her to kneel next to him. 

The next few moments were peaceful. Just the rise and fall of Enkidu’s chest.

Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. Rise…

Gilgamesh was the first one to start crying.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

At the End of It All, Could You Promise Me, as a friend, One More Time?

Lancelot sat, despondent, outside of the monastery that he assumed would become his home for the rest of his life. With Gawain fatally wounded, and Guinevere sent to a Covenant, there was no reason for Lancelot to continue fighting. Better atone for his sins.

He’d sent the one soldier who refused to leave him to take Arondight back to Arthur. Now, Lancelot waited outside, at sunset, he’d go into the monastery. 

A horse rode up to him, its rider carrying a sack and an object wrapped in cloth. He extended a wrapped scroll to Lancelot.

“Who do you bring this news from?” Lancelot asked.

“The late Sir Gawain.” The rider explained, “He wished these things to be delivered to Sir Lancelot.”

“Didn’t he hear,” Lancelot retorted, “It's not Sir Lancelot anymore. Just Lancelot Du Lac.” 

“Sir Gawain does not think so.” The Rider insisted, shoving the scroll into Lancelot’s hand.

Dear Lancelot

Lancelot. I shall be brief. We parted on unenjoyable terms, that’s obvious. I am dying and on my deathbed, I ask of you. Please go aid our king...our friend, in reclaiming his kingdom from Mordred. I understand that you feel that you must have sins that you cannot be redeemed. But no one is beyond redemption Lancelot. And there are many ways of redemption. Lancelot Du Lac, Knight of the Lake, you’ve made far more mistakes, but so has everyone. But you were still the best of us. So, Lancelot, I thank you for the good times, scorn you for the bad times...and pray that you go out as the best of us.

                                                                                                       Your friend,

                                                                                                             Gawain.

Lancelot closed the scroll, “I have no armor. I have no weapons. I gave up my worldly possessions.”

The Rider smiled, “My lord took that into account.”

Lancelot looked up to see the Rider offering the sack and cloth-wrapped object to him. Lancelot’s eyes widened, and he smiled sadly.

“Damn Gawain, you really know how to get to me.”

Arthur, Bedivere, and Kay hurried down the path, one of Mordred’s armies hot on the trail.

“We’re gonna have to fight!” Arthur shouted, “We can take them.”

“We can’t do that and still have the strength to deal with Mordred’s main forces.” Bedivere shot back, “We have to keep-”

Bedivere was suddenly grabbed and yanked to the side of the road. Arthur and Kay snapped around, seeing they had been surrounded by a small squadron of knights, one holding a sword to Bedivere’s neck.

“Let him go!” Arthur shouted, drawing Excalibur.

“Nah, ah, ah.” The head knight laughed, pressing the blade harder to Bedivere’s neck, “Surrender Arthur, or the knight dies.”

“Don’t listen to him, my king!” Bedivere shouted, before the blade was pressed even harder against his throat.

Arthur began to place his sword down.

“Stop.” A voice pierced the air, and the sound of a sword arcing through the air, slashing through the knight holding Bedivere captive. A figure had entered the fight, wearing yellow and black armor.

Bedivere leapt free as the knight fell dead, drawing his own blade, Arthur and Kay moving into action.

With the aid of the new figure, the four easily dispatched the rogue knights. 

“Thank you,” Arthur said, before noticing the sword clutched in the knight’s hand. The familiar shape. The bright gold and red core that danced like firelight.  It was…

“Galatine?” Kay murmured, “And that armor...Gawain, I thought you.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” the figure admitted, removing his helmet, revealing Lancelot.

“Lancelot!” Kay roared, taking a threatening step towards the former Round Table Knight.

“Wait, let me explain!”

“Explain what?” Kay asked, “How you killed Gawain and took his weapons and armor from his corpse, even after you said you’d go to atone!”

“I am here to atone on Gawain’s wishes!” Lancelot shouted, before pulling out the scroll Gawain had sent him.

“So, you intend to fight alongside us?” Arthur asked, to which Lancelot shook his head.

“The army that’s been trailing you. I’ll stall it.” Lancelot said solemnly. 

“You’ll die. Not even you can handle an entire army.” Bedivere interjected.

“Of course.” Lancelot sighed, “But, after causing this whole mess, I might as well try and give you a chance to solve it.”

Lancelot turned to set out to confront the army.

“Wait.” Arthur said, walking up to Lancelot, extending a sword. Arondight. “Take it. And promise me...you will at least try and survive.”

Lancelot took Arondight by the hilt, “I promise you, on whatever honor I may still have as a knight.”

“No.” Arthur pressed Arondight into Lancelot’s hand, “Promise me, one more time, as a friend.”

Lancelot was taken aback, but took Arondight, “Alright then Arthur, I promise you as Lancelot Du Lac, valued friend of Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur nodded, and he, Bedivire, and Kay left. Lancelot turned to face the approaching army, holding Galatine and Arondight.

“Goodbye my King. Goodbye my Friend.” Lancelot murmured, before raising his blades and declaring, “Now, come, fellow traitors to King Arthur! Come face Lancelot Du Lac!”

#oddnub writes #reimagining #interpretation #celtic mythology #arthurian mythos #sumerian mythology #gilgamesh #enkidu #shamhat #cu chulainn #lancelot du lac #arthur pendragon #bedivere #sir kay

[softquietsteadylove]

Gil takes care of Thena very secretly while she still has her bullet wound. Thena learns that he is the strongest guard here and yet the most kindest and gentlest of them all. Plus she can’t resist touching his feathers 🤭

"Thena?"

"Up here!" she called back to him. She could hear him climbing from the branches holding her nest up to the canopy where she was sitting (hiding). "Careful."

Gilgamesh had such large and magnificent wings. She had cleared a path for herself, of course, but she hated the idea of him snagging any of his beautifully dark feathers on his way up.

"Hey," he huffed, finally emerging in the canopy with her. His wings rustled behind him as he settled himself on the same branch. "How did you get up here?"

She smiled. He had been very vigilant about her injury since she had disclosed it to him. He even snuck her extra food in hopes the protein would help her heal faster. "Carefully, rest assured. I've started coming up here to watch the sunrise. And it assures that Druig and Ikaris will leave me be and seek their own food."

Gil chuckled, "did you find food for them when they were fledglings?"

Thena rolled her eyes at it. "I do not know of yourself, but my brothers knew I was the best hunter of us, so they would half-attempt to fish until I assuredly brought back the best yield for us to share."

Gil rolled his eyes as well, although they did share in their laughter. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me."

"Even when Ikaris started hunting in earnest, he's too impatient to skim the water at a reasonable pace, so everything slips from his grasp," she shrugged, picking at a few berries she had in a leaf cup. "But he can crack open shellfish better than I, I must admit."

"You like shellfish?"

"Scallops and shrimp are sweeter than oysters and muscles," she commented freely, barely even noticing as Gil angled himself, running his hands over her wings. She shifted in her position, turning her back to him so he could examine her side.

"Has it opened back up again?" he asked seriously, examining her white dress for signs of blood.

"No, the healing springs are working," she answered honestly. She was still soaking her wound morning and night. "The skin is a little tender, but I do believe it had closed, at least."

"Hm," he grunted, moving on to straightening some of her feathers while he was examining her. "Still soak it for a little longer, though. Until it no longer hurts to poke."

Thena sighed. She poked it regularly to test if she was healed yet. "Indeed."

"Makkari is rushing home after last perimeter checks a lot," Gil commented lightly as he idly combed through her feathers with his fingers. "Are they official now?"

"I do believe I could say they are courting," Thena smiled to herself, watching sun stream through the gaps and crags in the top of the mothernest, and even through some of the crystalline ice structures up there. "I look forward to the day he brings her home to me."

It was quite serious to have one's mate introduced to the family formally. Thena and Makkari had spoken of course, could even be considered to be friends. But if Druig brought Makkari to her nest to meet her, that would be more like bringing Makkari to meet his mother.

"You think he will?" Gil asked, plucking out an errant feather.

"It will take time," she sighed, her wings fluttering faintly at the thought, just for Gil to move them more for his angle. "But I do hope so. I would welcome her to the family."

"You wouldn't feel like you have a," Gil paused, and she heard his clothes rustle as he fidgeted, "I dunno--empty nest, or something?"

Thena looked down at her berries, almost eaten completely. "Perhaps I will mourn the days when Druig was a sweet little hatchling, even when Ikaris was not so...Ikaris."

Gil snorted.

"But they are long grown, and I want for them to stretch their wings," she concluded. She moved her leaf cup, offering up her last windberry. "I brought them all the way here for it, all told."

"Thanks," Gil whispered (awfully close to her ear). He reached for the berry, his thumb brushing against hers as he fished it out.

"I have never seen them so much as show an interest in courting, or preening, or," she shrugged, flapping her wings faintly as she felt Gil pull away.

"Well, preening is pretty, y'know," Gil postulated as she turned around to face him again.

"Oh?" she grinned, automatically moving forward to return the favour of his preening of her wings. She nearly gasped as he allowed her to do the same, brandishing his shimmering black wings in all their glory. They made her want to bury her face in the valley between them.

"W-Well," Gil squirmed, and she could just imagine the sweet, somewhat shy expression on his face. "Preening is pretty, uh, personal."

Intimate might be another word for it. Certainly no acquaintances or even casual friends were going around picking at each other's feathers. It simply required a level of trust and understanding of a fae's most vulnerable feature.

Thena was not ignorant to that. She simply acted like she was.

She moved her fingers over Gil's feathers delicately. They were so stunning, each and every one of them. She nudged a few back into place, examining the most misplaced ones. He had navigated his way up here with care.

"Should I not be...?" she asked quietly, even pausing in her actions. She pursed her lips while he was turned away from her, "if you have a potential mate who is going to come and tear my nest apart, I-"

Gil snorted again. He half turned to peek at her around his wing, "please."

She only felt more dissatisfied with that answer. She plucked a downy feather straight out roughly. "I do not see what is humorous about the question."

"Well, guard life doesn't exactly let you go out and court," he shrugged, not seeming all that bothered by it. "I've been the captain of our patrol for a long time, Thena. I've never so much as been approached."

Thena tilted her head beside/behind him. Her hair swayed around her shoulders faintly and the shadows of her horn and a half were cast over Gil's shoulder. She couldn't imagine Gilgamesh not being a prime candidate for a mate for anyone viable.

"Why?"

She looked up and suddenly he had a completely clear view of her. His eyes were sharp and warm, brown like the undertones of his rich black feathers. Her stomach leapt. "Hm?"

"You worried I have someone I'm preening with in another nest?"

Thena felt herself flush, although she did her best to look annoyed with the question. He wasn't in a teasing mood often. "I wouldn't take you for that kind of fae, Gilgamesh."

He laughed fully, having had his fun. He turned again, crossing his arms around himself. His wings shook with his laughter as well. "Well, that's good. And listen, even if I had ever liked someone, I've never been able to approach anyone. I'm used to doing my own preening, really."

She could tell, by the general state of his back-most feathers. Clearly he took good care of them, but every fae had those spots they simply couldn't reach on their own. "Well, good you have me."

"Yeah, it is."

Thena lowered her hands from his wings. She had let herself enjoy their secrecy too much, perhaps. "You need not, of course. If you didn't wish it."

Gil, sensing that she had pulled away from him, turning back to her. He lifted his wings to they could sit close despite the appendages of theirs which naturally demanded distance. "Do you?--wish it?"

Thena sighed, looking at the wonderful border guard she had met a full turn around the sun past, now. She leaned forward carefully, giving him time to refuse if he wanted to. In which case she would take off and leave these seas, perhaps forever.

Gil leaned in as well, their lips meeting gently. It was not necessarily as intimate as preening - especially in secret - but a kiss was still a kiss. He raised his hand to her cheek, tilting her head to kiss her deeper.

Thena sighed, their fangs meeting somewhat as their mouths opened more. He tasted of the morning stew the guards ate before first takeoff. It mixed with the taste of her berries.

Gil pulled away, tucking her hair behind the point of her ear in the morning air currents.

Thena just stared at him, her breath coming in soft sighs. She had never thought of finding a mate for her own.

Gil looked up, seeing a few fae beginning to fly around the dome of the mothernest as a warmup. He sighed, "I have to go."

"Go," she sent him off with a smile, her whole body tingling with warmth. "You are needed."

Gilgamesh let his hand drift off her cheek and to her shoulder as he stood on the branch. He lifted his wings, shielding them from witnesses. "I'll come and check on you tonight."

"Very well," she smiled. She waited the entirety of the day for him to do so eagerly. Her heart sang for him. "I shall wait for you."

"Okay," he whispered, their hands leaving each other the most slowly. He slipped something into her hand, "see you later, then."

Thena waved as he took off, launching straight from the treetops into the air to join the day's first shift of patrol. She could hear his voice, already directing his team and guiding them with the largest and strongest wings of them all.

Her hand tightened around the feather of his he had left her. It was a step past preening, and she would have to make sure Ikaris and Druig didn't find it--this gesture of exclusivity between fae. It wasn't necessarily a courting trinket, bus she felt a certain lightheaded giddiness as she tucked it into the layers of her white dress, over her heart.

#Thenamesh Maleficent AU #it's preening time! #I honestly think kissing someone can be like #oh it's like a peck #but you hear two fae are preening #and you're like whoa whoa whoa are you two that serious?! #Thena just can't resist because Gil is so sweet #and his wings are so big and beautiful #and Gil knows what they're doing could be considered improper #he faintly is like well maybe it's not as big a deal in the southern Isles #but then Thena wants to preen him the second he sits down #and he's like is she...interested...in me?!!?!?!?! #meanwhile Thena #poor Thena is horns over heels for this handsome fae with the dark wings #Druig is like what's up with her? #Ikaris is just like what #She keeps sighing and all she does is sit in the canopy all day #then she takes off at sundown #Ikaris: no brain head empty #Druig: I am detective pikachu #Thena: Lover by Taylor Swift #thank you to all who read my tags #obviously I think I'm funny

[fraink5-writes]

Blue Ceiling - Tablet IV

No more Kingu in the anime, but at least he’s still here.

I’d like to thank @leio13 for being my wonderful editor!

Summary: Expecting to become king of the merpeople as son of Tiamat, Kingu is suddenly forced to give up his tail and to go the surface to restore humanity’s disregarded respect for the Goddess of the Sea. However, he severely underestimates the Uruks’ willpower, especially that of their stubborn king, Gilgamesh.

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

“Are you sure you want to fight me now? I can easily beat you like this, you know.” Kingu twirled his spear in his hand for added effect.

“Impudent,” Gilgamesh growled. “Besides, you won’t be attacking me anyway.”

“Why not?” Kingu was itching to one-up Gilgamesh, who had yet to acknowledge him. Gilgamesh’s eyes flared, but he responded levelly, “Because I’m going to teach you defense. Your skills are completely useless as they are now.”

Kingu did not see how his skills were useless. If anything, learning defensive measures seemed silly for something like fishing, Kingu’s primary use for his spear. But Kingu decided not to say anything to avoid inciting his partner’s precarious temper. Instead, he just shrugged.

“You may have a knack for spearing fish, but certainly you haven’t forgotten what happened last time we fought?”

It was now Kingu’s turn to be annoyed. “No. I. have. not.” 

“Good.” Gilgamesh smirked. “Now, let’s begin!” He armed himself with a spear, pointing the blunt end towards Kingu.

Kingu waited for an attack, but not one came. Instead, Gilgamesh spoke again. “Do you want to get beaten?”

“No, but you haven’t even moved yet.”

“Idiot! I’ve already begun my move. You’re supposed to anticipate my attacks. Otherwise, you’re going to be defeated again.”

“You’re using the blunt end of the spear...” Kingu was tired of Gilgamesh’s commentary and wanted to move onto the main fight.

“Do you want to test out the other end?” Gilgamesh’s glare sharpened with dangerous intent, forcing Kingu into a defensive position. “Good.” Gilgamesh returned briefly to his leisurely smile before launching his first jab at Kingu.

The fights began with many comments from Gilgamesh, to Kingu’s dismay, but they were slowly replaced by the sound of clashing spears. Gilgamesh seemed to be enjoying himself, smirking when he passed through Kingu’s defenses and landed a blow, and grinning when he did not—when Kingu succeeded. Kingu also let himself be absorbed by the excitement: the swift movements, the coursing blood, the accelerating heartbeats. Time was too slow, too insufficient, and it fell by the wayside. The sparring pair only stopped when Kingu could no longer ignore the cumulation of tiny aches.

“Well done. You learn quickly.” Gilgamesh smiled with complete ease. He hadn’t a single scratch. “Do you have any injuries?”

“No.” Kingu decided to overlook the numerous little bruises. He could deal with them at home.

“No need to be vain,” Gilgamesh exhaled. “You won’t impress me by ignoring your injuries. That’s only foolery.” He beckoned a man into the room. “He will take care of whatever you need.”

Without the chance to retort, Kingu was led into another room. He sat tensely as the man inspected and treated his wounds. 

Kingu had not been trying to impress Gilgamesh. He only did not want to appear weaker than Gilgamesh. He only wanted to prove his strength to Gilgamesh, after having been humiliated. He only wanted Gilgamesh to acknowledge it, to admit to it.

When Kingu returned from the other room, he was greeted by an odd demand from Gilgamesh. “Come back the same time next weekend.” Perhaps it could have been called an invitation, yet there was no possibility of turning it down.

Nevertheless, Kingu hesitated. "Why are you training me, anyway?"

"I was in need of a sparring partner," Gilgamesh replied nonchalantly. As far as possible answers went, Kingu found the provided one to be unsatisfactory.

"But why me?"

"I've tested all the suitable men in Uruk.” Gilgamesh sighed. “But they don't have the right attitude."

Was Gilgamesh admitting he was wrong about Kingu’s attitude? Kingu decided to test it. "I thought I had an attitude problem."

Gilgamesh gave Kingu a brief, menacing look. "You do," he uttered. "But you're the only one so arrogant and so eager to fight me." As he finished his assessment of Kingu’s character, he grinned.

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No. You can't win. But your unyielding determination is a sight to behold.” Gilgamesh’s lips curled to a greater extent. “Don't stop fighting. I look forward to seeing what will become of you."

"Then I have permission to beat you."

"Don't get so ahead of yourself."

***

The sun was still high when Kingu packed up for the day. He threw the fish into his sack and prepared to head into town as usual. Rather than set up at the market, Kingu found it more useful to wander through the streets himself, trading his catches for whatever he needed. Through this method, he obtained food, furniture, and so many little trinkets that his brick house had begun to feel like a real home. His first stop was always the farms outside the walls. It was more convenient to pick up fresh items from the farms themselves, rather than the markets, on his way back into the city. 

On that day, however, Kingu was stopped unexpectedly. “Kingu!” It was a shepherd with whom Kingu frequently traded. “Can you help?” His nasal voice rose desperately.

“What is it?”

“There’s a lion terrorizing the herd! My wife is at the market. I do not think I can take on the beast alone…!”

Kingu had never seen a lion before, but he had heard about them a number of times—namely in horror stories of people getting eaten. Kingu wasn’t overly eager to take on such an opponent, but he wasn’t going to turn down a challenge. He wasn’t unfamiliar with fighting huge animals, after all. 

“Has the lion been terrorizing your herd repeatedly?” Kingu posed the question to get a picture of the situation.

“Yes, but my wife and I have been able to fend it off. But alone...”

It was decided. “Alright, then we kill it.”

“H-huh? No, no, we don’t need to do that! We just need to keep it from the sheep.”

“But it keeps coming back, right? Better to just get rid of the problem.” Kingu would not budge on the issue. Killing the lion would be quite an accomplishment, that even Gilgamesh couldn’t deny. He marched forward, spear in hand, in search of the lion. The shepherd followed nervously behind him. Kingu wasn’t sure how helpful the man was going to be; perhaps it would be better for him to keep out of the way.

The lion was unlike anything Kingu could have imagined. A giant animal which prowled on four legs. It was covered in sand-colored fur and darker, longer hair splayed around its triangular face. At the end of each paw were pointed claws. It seemed to breathe thunder.

Kingu’s heart thudded against his halted body. Blood ran from his face to his legs, tethering his feet to the ground. 

But Kingu steeled himself, glancing at the trembling (but still moving) shepherd beside him. He had to kill the lion.

Kingu realized that in order to land an attack on the beast, he couldn’t let it pounce first. Of course, it would also be foolish to charge at it head on, so he crept forward. He hoped the sheep were a good distraction. 

Finally, Kingu, the shepherd still right behind him, reached as good a distance as he would get. He charged at the beast and drove his spear into its hairy neck.

The lion pivoted and swiped at Kingu with a giant paw. The claws raked through Kingu’s skin like leaves. 

Kingu staggered backwards, barely clutching his spear in his right hand, but the lion wouldn’t let him go. It clamped on his left arm with its fangs. 

Kingu thought he had known pain. He thought he had adjusted to pain when he learned how to walk, yet this pain—this shock—completely overwhelmed him. It invaded his body, killing off all other senses. 

Somehow he was freed. He fell to the ground. But he didn’t feel anything. He saw the blurring silhouette of the lion thrash above him. 

He was going to die.

He couldn’t let the beast get on top of him.

He would be crushed. 

His usable hand clenched something. 

He was going to die.

He thrust the object at the lion. 

Blood splattered above him. 

Was that Kingu’s blood? He couldn’t tell.

Sensing a great relief (death?), his mind went blank.

“You’re an idiot.” A nasal voice was the last thing he heard.

#Fate series #Fate/Grand Order #Gilkingu #Kingu #Gilgamesh

[atopearth]

Fate/stay night Réalta Nua Part 6 - Heaven’s Feel Route (2/2)

Day 11-16 Aww, Illya was so sweet and thoughtful to wake up early and help suppress the pain on Shirou (from Archer’s arm) while he was asleep. I found it really cute how Shirou nonchalantly asked Sakura if it was all right for Illya to stay in the house forever, and that since she’s his partner and this is her home as well, he thought he should ask her for her permission and opinion. Sakura blushing was adorable haha. I loved how awkward it was when Sakura and Rin made lunch together, but I loved how Shirou gave Sakura the courage to call Rin “nee-san”, so that now they can finally kinda chase back the times they lost as sisters. I find it hilarious how Shirou always says unexpected things to Rider and it makes her put her guard down lol, he’s like her weakness since she can never keep up her cold exterior for long when it comes to him. It’s so cute how Rider was self conscious about her height haha. Shirou is right though, Rider is so tall and beautiful, it totally suits her. I also really liked how Rider seemed to appreciate Shirou going all the way to the shed just to give her his morning greetings (even though it was afternoon lol), it was funny when he admitted that he forgot about her until now lol, because I totally did too.

I feel like Shirou and Sakura don’t get to talk about much (aside from cooking and blushing at each other lol), so I’m kinda glad they got to have a little talk about how even though she and Rin weren’t really “allowed” to interact, Rin would still greet her at school and watch her practice at the Archery club. And it’s nice to see that Sakura appreciated her doing that. Lol at Sakura being subtly ruthless about Shirou being crappy at magic🤣 She’s probably right about Shirou being the “strongest” out of them three though, I think his pure determination and will is something that cannot be matched. Not sure what Sakura was talking about, but does that mean Shirou actually only has 7 days to adjust to Archer’s arm or he’ll die? Aaaand, no I don’t feel sorry for the piece of shit Shinji lol. I can understand why he’s the way he is, and sure you can blame the grandfather and his own father for raising him to be like that, but honestly he was a shit from the beginning. He always thought he was special and great because of their family origins even though he didn’t have magic circuits, but he always treated Sakura like trash and a servant because he was happy that he “was better” than her, that he was learning magic and she wasn’t. So when he realised that he was the actual trash that wasn’t the successor, and his grandfather and father stopped pretending to be nice to him, he just outright hated Sakura even more because she’s the actual special one, and she’s apologising to him for taking his place that was never his. He hates being pitied as trash and that’s probably why he hates Sakura, but really, even if Sakura wasn’t there, that place never would have been his either way. And he’s treated Sakura so badly her whole life, I honestly don’t care about him and never will. He’s so entitled and is like the epitome of everything I hate in a person, I would never feel anything for him tbh. I’m so glad Shirou took care of her right.

Umm, I hope Shirou isn’t being controlled or whatever and is doing some of those killings at night… Or maybe he’s just losing his memories due to the effects from Sakura draining his magical energy? I feel for Sakura though, she can tell that she’s slowly losing her mind but she doesn’t want to lose Shirou to anyone and wants to be beside him as much as she can because she loves him more than anything else. It’s just heartbreaking that he’s the thing that’s giving her some sanity but at the same time, his existence is causing her to want to destroy everything in their way so that she can keep their life together. I’m starting to think that Sakura might be a yandere and kill Illya and Rin to keep Shirou to herself though, very worrying… And is she turning Shirou into a sex craving monster?? Loll. Like, just as she needs to do it for magical energy, will it in turn consume Shirou to the point that he’s going to die if he doesn’t do it with Sakura or something?? It was saddening when Illya told Shirou that it was impossible for them to live together forever, because they both don’t have long to live… It’s also pretty saddening to see how much Shirou wants to ignore the fact that everywhere the shadow lingered, it smells and reminds him of Sakura. I guess that’s understandable though. Initially, they believed that since Sakura hadn’t killed anyone yet, she could be saved and should be saved. But if he were to realise that the shadow is actually Sakura, he’ll have to accept that Sakura has killed lots of people, numerous people, and she continues to kill people as long as she exists and there’s nothing that can really stop her. Not only will he then have to accept that he must kill her to stop her, he will also have to accept that it was because of his decision to save her instead of kill her back then that has caused all these people to suffer and die. How many people can really accept such a thing? I feel like Shirou’s gonna break at this rate… On the other hand, Sakura’s already broken lol. I guess by getting hurt by Gilgamesh and then swallowing him whole she’s finally realised that these “nightmares” of a monster walking around town was really just her going on a feeding spree. Not sure if she can accept it though, since she only seems to focus on the fact that for the first time, Shirou asked to have sex with her and not the other way around, so she thinks that she has to do anything she can to preserve and protect the life she has right now. By allowing her to live this long, Shirou has only caused Sakura to become more greedy and desire him more, and that’s probably facilitating her desire to need to “eat more” and never feeling satisfied, because in the end, what she wants is Shirou, and she needs to survive as long as she can to experience this happiness as long as she can…

I was wondering when Rin being fond of Shirou due to her seeing him high jumping would be relevant, and OF COURSE it would be heard by Sakura to further agitate her and think that Rin is stealing everything from her, whether it be the “good life” she could have had or the guy she likes the most. Not to mention Rin is telling Shirou that if it comes to it, she won’t hesitate to kill Sakura and told Shirou to think about that too, so yeah… Honestly though, at this rate, I feel like Rin dying might be the only way for Shirou to “wake up” and force himself to realise that he can’t let Sakura stay like this any longer. Or I guess killing Illya would also cause the same effect. Zouken took the broken fragments of the holy grail from the last war and embedded it into Sakura??? I’m surprised there was anything left that could really be put into someone but okay… I guess that’s why the shadow exists to “collect souls”, since it’s basically the holy grail that wants to complete itself by consuming souls? I’m not sure what Zouken wants by telling Shirou to kill Sakura before she becomes even more berserk? Is it because she’s not the holy grail he wants now, so it’s best to get rid of her? But anyway, I guess it’s making more sense now as to why Sakura is losing her human functions such as not being able to move etc, since she consumed so many Servants, and the more she consumes, the more she’ll need to use her functions to maintain them rather than to maintain herself as a human. She is losing herself at a rapid rate and there’s no way to really save her… It was kinda sweet to see Shirou being happy that Illya was fine and would still be able to retain herself as Illya even if she consumed Rider and Assassin as the holy grail. Or maybe Zouken is trying to get Shirou to kill Sakura just to get her to be even more out of control lol.

Honestly, when Shirou wasn’t able to kill Sakura, rather than resolve, I felt apathy and acceptance. Apathy towards Sakura killing so many people, and acceptance of the fact that protecting Sakura means betraying all his beliefs and his whole reason for living all this time. It felt like he accepted that there was no going back after this, and I guess Sakura felt that, because she laments about how her weakness is causing Shirou to break and be in pain for every step he takes in protecting her. Although I do blame Sakura for causing Shirou to have to make such difficult decisions and break himself over it physically and mentally, I was really happy when she forced herself to stay awake and not sleep, so that the shadow couldn’t go around feeding like the “nightmares’ she always had. I was also happy when she used her last Command Spell to order Rider to protect Shirou until the end. Even though Sakura is the cause of all Shirou’s problems, I can see why Shirou is willing to sacrifice everything for her. The fact that she can remain so pure and thoughtful despite her experiences is somewhat of a blessing, and honestly the problems she causes are out of her hands most of the time and is all because of Zouken, so I can understand why Shirou would be so adamant on saving her when the world has always been so unfair to her. Well, I guess I’m not surprised that this "impurity” within the holy grail is what “created” the black shadow and it’s now practically consumed Sakura enough for them to be like “one”. But her sanity restricts it, so as long as she’s Sakura, she can still restrain it~ but that thing that will be “born” from her with the collection of all those souls the shadow is eating sounds dangerous… Hmm how interesting that in order to save Sakura, the only way is for her to completely become the holy grail, and then for Shirou to use the power of the holy grail to eliminate the crappy stuff inside her while she’s still sane for those few seconds or whatever.

I have to say, seeing Sakura desperately want to protect the secret that Shinji was raping her all this time from Shirou was pretty saddening. Saddening that it was what ended up breaking her sanity and forced her to numb herself to the fact that she had killed her brother, and that killing someone could be so easy, as long as she wanted it, she would have the power to kill them. It was saddening to see that happen. As expected, Zouken wanted Shirou to break Sakura by betraying her, and in the end although Shinji was the one who pushed her into it, her love for Shirou contributed to it. Honestly, seeing Illya sitting down on the porch thinking about whether Sakura would come first to kill her/take her as the holy grail or whether Shirou would come and take her away with him was saddening. She’s accepted her fate that she’ll die no matter what, but I’m sure she really wants to spend whatever time she can with Shirou instead. On the other hand, I’m pretty disappointed in Sakura, understandable but still disappointed, because from her talk with Rin, you can tell she’s still her, she’s just allowing her negative emotions and thoughts overtake her and it’s honestly disappointing to see, mainly because all I can think about is that Shirou sacrificed himself for “this”, he sacrificed everything he was to help her and yet the one that isn’t helping her the most is Sakura herself. Although I kinda feel that she’s doing all this so that Shirou can be thoroughly disappointed in her and “give up” on her and kill her to prevent any more innocent people from dying, but still, I’m annoyed at her always being the one to give up when Shirou never gave up. I know she thinks it’s too painful to see Shirou compromise his morals and beliefs for her, but at the same time, now that he’s already done it, I really wanted them to power through it together to find a way to save her instead of resorting to this. Nice reassurance to have Rider save Shirou from herself though~ it’s kinda funny that even though Illya is the “youngest”, she’s probably the most mature and understanding one (despite how childish she can be when she’s with Shirou lol), she knows and accepts what her role is and is not one to falter against it. Illya’s farewell to Shirou was pretty heartbreaking.

I loved their interactions when Shirou reunited with Illya at the castle. Shirou’s pure desire to save Illya from all this even if it’ll end badly was honestly touching, mainly because Illya is obviously trying her best to do all the risky stuff so Shirou doesn’t need to, but seeing Shirou come to save her from it was just sweet. Illya’s smile is definitely worth it, and if I have to be honest, I much prefer and enjoy Shirou and Illya’s relationship in this route than with Sakura lol. LOL at Illya and Kotomine thinking Shirou was insane for jumping from the third floor of the castle without magic (although he did strengthen his feet) even though he just followed them because he didn’t want to fall behind haha. Although I knew Kotomine isn’t one to really sacrifice himself, I didn’t expect that his teachings of God was something that could kill Zouken. Now that I think about it, I think one of the reasons why I like Saber, Rin and Illya more than Sakura is because I feel like despite how logical they are, they would always prioritise protecting Shirou even at the expense of themselves, and that’s something you see in Sakura at times but I feel like most of the time it’s Shirou who does that instead.

I liked Shirou’s fight with Berserker, it was pretty cool how he was able to take off the cloth on Archer’s arm and project Berserker’s own weapon and fend him off, obviously it wasn’t possible for Shirou to really win, but it was Berserker’s hesitation in hurting Illya that allowed Shirou to actually win though. I’m surprised that Kotomine actually had a wife and child in the past because he wanted to experiment whether he could love another person, and she even killed herself to try and prove to him through her death that he loved her. Honestly, even though he thinks he didn’t love her, I think in a certain sense, he actually did, not necessarily romantically, but I think through her, he was able to understand that although he enjoyed seeing them when they suffered, he stopped experiments like these after her death. Regardless of what he truly feels, I think a part of him wasn’t interested in seeing such a thing happen again, and in a way I guess that was his kindness and love after dealing with her death? Or maybe I’m just thinking too much haha. Although, I do believe so, mainly because when you watch Fate/Zero, when he saw how devoted Maiya and Irisviel were towards Kiritsugu, I think aside from his hatred of Kiritsugu having everything he wanted (emotions etc) yet discarding them for saving humanity, it also reminded him of this wife he once had that possessed the same undying devotion to him as they did for Kiritsugu. I think even though he didn’t really “feel it”, he was touched by it in his own way. White hair Sakura looks all right, but yeah honestly, Kotomine is right, this “evil personality” of Sakura’s is really just herself. She just can’t accept that she has such dark thoughts and hates everyone so she tries to make it as if all these disgusting parts of her aren’t actually a part of her, when really, they’ve been a part of her all this time. It really shows how pitiful she is and how saddening her life is though. She’s been wanting to keep herself “pure” and kind so as to be good enough for Shirou, but really, Shirou would embrace her darkness if she allowed him to.

Ohhh so the thing Sakura is “giving birth” to is the eighth class of the Holy Grail War that the Einzberns broke the rules to summon and tainted the Holy Grail… Hmmm, I knew that since the Servants just get absorbed back into the grail when they die it didn’t really matter whether the Masters fought and died or whatever, but I didn’t realise that everything about the war is actually done to achieve this immortality miracle called Heaven’s Feel, which is some sort of sorcery (something that cannot be achieved with magic) that is the ultimate goal of every magus, and I guess that’s why Tohsaka’s dad was so intent on winning the war previously. And I guess we can see why Zouken wanted to achieve this so much, since Heaven’s Feel elevates the soul to a higher dimension and allows them to still influence the physical world, so I guess basically he’ll be like some kind of god or being that won’t die, but would still be able to stay in this world as a “human”. And hmmm I see, the Great Holy Grail is the magic circle that uses the land administrated by the Tohsaka family and it is with the combination of this and the Holy Grail by the Einzberns that they can use the absorbed spirits and everything to open a hole to the land where they can get unlimited magical energy. The story of the anti-hero Angra Mainyu where he was used as a sacrifice in a small village to be viewed and tortured as the epitome of all sins and evil in this world in order to create the impression that everyone else must be good because he embodies all evil already was just ugh. Not that it’s not believable, just…bland and unnecessary imo. And this embodiment of evil is the shadow of Sakura wanting to kill all humans because that’s what his role is I guess.

Initially, when Shirou took Rin’s pendant with him to hold onto whenever he felt like he would lose consciousness, I thought it was just his way of thinking about the person who saved him and getting some motivation from that, but now that he’s talking about it with Rin without realising what it actually is anymore (due to the side effects of using projection with Archer’s arm, which leads to him being unable to retain a lot of memories), it might actually be because Shirou is being influenced by Archer’s memories and emotions as well. Archer really cherishes that pendant alongside Rin, and seeing Shirou cherish it so really made it touching. Even if Archer is gone and only his arm is here, Rin remains the most important person in his memories. I’ve been waiting for Rider to do something again, so I’m happy that she’s cooperating with Shirou because she understands that Shirou’s goal has never changed, he will be on Sakura’s side until the very end, just like she is. Honestly though, Tiger Dojo 38 was pretty cool, you get to see Saber and Shirou face off against each other and Shirou actually wins! Well, he sacrifices his life to keep Saber there and allow Rin to go save Sakura, and we don’t know what really happens, but I think it was nice to see that Shirou was able to fight so vigorously and win. I thought it was really sweet how Shirou went around the house before the last battle and was able to recall all those precious daily memories of Sakura and how important she is to him in his daily life. Even if his memories are foggy and even if he is in pain, Sakura drives him on and renews his resolve for saving her. Even if he’s forgotten everything, he won’t forget her and I think that’s really heartwarming.

Ooh so Zouken’s main body is still alive, I was wondering how anticlimactic it would be if Kotomine really killed him in the forest lol. I think it’s more fitting for Sakura to be the one to kill him, especially since he’s the one who tortured her all these years and is still doing the same thing right now. Honestly, Zouken’s end was pretty cliche, but it was pretty satisfying to see Sakura squish him like the worm he was. To think that the worm inside of her was his real body though. I’m glad he’s done though, Zouken was a pretty boring villain tbh. Tiger Dojo 40 was pretty saddening! Like, I can so imagine Shirou not being ruthless enough to kill Saber even though he has the chance, but his kindness ending up leading to Rin’s death is so real and sad. Rin deserves better!🥺 I love how in the Tiger Dojo, they tell Saber fans to give up on getting a good ending for Saber in this route because there’s none, and that if they want one, they need to go to Saber’s route hahahah. Time to do the normal ending first! I really felt the pain and grief when Shirou stabbed Saber though. It was honestly heartbreaking to see all his memories with her flash, and see how in order to save Sakura, he needed to harden his heart and sacrifice others that he could not save. He chose the path of killing others to save Sakura, and he killed someone that was once so faithful to him. I guess one of the reasons why I don’t like Sakura as a villain is because in a sense even though she’s not as disgusting as Shinji, she’s similar to him in the sense that everything she does is as if she’s throwing a tantrum. Throwing a tantrum that she’s the only one suffering, that no one cares about her and that everyone is living a good life when she has to suffer. And just like Shinji, she doesn’t really use her brain to fight, she just uses whatever powers she has accumulated through her hatred to deal pain on all the people around her until she satisfied, it’s just that she can never be satisfied.. Honestly, I feel like the way Rin is towards Sakura throughout this route has felt rather…awkward and a bit unlike her imo, but I guess maybe it’s because of how awkward her relationship with Sakura is. The only obvious thing was that at this point, even though Rin excelled against Sakura in battle experience and brain in using the gem sword against her etc (which I’m honestly surprised that Sakura’s use of magic is limited by her weakness as a mage even though she has an inexhaustible amount), with Sakura crying at how painful her life had been, and with how much Shirou had all this time shown to Rin his resolve to save Sakura, it was expected that Rin wouldn’t be able to kill her. It’s just terrible that it took Rin to die for Sakura to realise that everything she wanted was already there, she just allowed her negative feelings to take over her.

Honestly, I felt rather dissatisfied with the normal ending. Using a projection of Caster’s Noble Phantasm to break Sakura’s contact with Angra Mainyu was nice and interesting though, didn’t really think it would work that way for this too. Anyway, my dissatisfaction! Maybe it’s because it played out as expected with Shirou sacrificing his life to save Sakura, or maybe it’s because I was dissatisfied at how Sakura chose to live her life after Shirou sacrificed his for hers. I think it’s probably the latter tbh. I just keep thinking about everything that happened across the 16 days, about everything that happened between Sakura and Shirou, about how difficult it was for him to give up himself to save her, about how much he loved her and gave her his everything, and yet what happened in the end? She spent her life protecting his house and wallowing in their past memories! Like, yes it’s romantic in a sense, and it totally suits Sakura’s personality to do that, but it killed me! I feel like Sakura’s love is just so “blind” that it fails to grasp what Shirou wanted for her. He wanted her to live a life of freedom, and a life of happiness with others like her sister. But instead of achieving that, Sakura just felt estranged by something new (instead of her past, it’s now Shirou), guilt at being the one who survived and feeling like she needed to stay in his house and isolate herself. Honestly, it felt so much like a bad ending lol. I guess as Rider said, Sakura needs Shirou to be there with her in order to really live, but seriously I’m still annoyed though, because it felt like such a waste. I understand that Sakura isn’t someone that can stand up by herself or be supported by anyone aside from Shirou, but sigh, such a waste. I felt like if she at least tried to fulfill things Shirou wanted to do with his life or what he wanted to do with her after saving her etc, it would have been much nicer. Sigh.

Ooh so for the true ending, Kotomine is there trying to protect Angra Mainyu. Before this, I didn’t really understand why he wanted it to come into being, but after his talk with Shirou, it’s understandable. Kotomine has at a certain point onwards always thought that it’s because he had a defect from birth that caused him to become a person that can only live happily by seeing people in pain and in grief. But what if he’s wrong? And I think that’s what he wants to explore. What if all along he was blaming it on something outside of his control, but really it actually was within his control? And I think that’s what he wants to see from this birth. When it’s born, will it have the emotions to understand what it has done all this time (killing people) and grieve over it or laugh at it, making it “evil” because it can differentiate between good and evil. Or will it instead just continue to be what it is not knowing emotions, and thus unable to be “evil” because it doesn’t understand what evil really is and only does what it has been born to do? I mean, it’s crazy for Kotomine to give it a chance to live and kill people, but it is something to be curious about haha. Honestly Zouken still being alive was so suitable for the worm that he is, but I really didn’t care for him finally coming to terms that he had to accept the Makiri line ended with him because he was lacking rather than because the land wasn’t suitable for them, and that living was more painful than death anyway. Like, at this point, he better be dead! Lol. I’m so sad. I honestly didn’t want to see Illya have to be the one to die instead of Shirou, but I know that if Shirou died, Illya probably wouldn’t be able to have the same happiness she has now anyway, but still!😭 Oh wow, Rider in casual clothes is certainly different lol, still beautiful though. Hmmmm so even though Shirou’s body died, Illya was able to use the Third Sorcery to revive Shirou’s soul and give him a body free of wounds, so even though that body isn’t really Shirou, it is Shirou since it’s his soul, so basically he’s just in a new form but he’s who he is haha. Although the ending felt lacklustre, it was really nice to see a more mature and beautiful Sakura and Rin, they look so good!!

However, I find it difficult to describe my feelings when I think about Heaven’s Feel overall. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either, and I personally think it’s due to the lack of emotions I felt towards Sakura. In terms of the story, like others have said, it is the “darker” route, but in all honesty, I felt like that was it all it was. A lot of the route involves building up Sakura as an unconscious killer that isn’t redeemable, yet Shirou chooses to sacrifice everything for her, which is all right, because I really felt his feelings of love and resolve, but that was only in the first half. In the second half, I felt the story was lacking, and even the emotions it rode on was lacking, the only thing that wasn’t too disappointing would be the fights, but since the first half is literally just Sakura eating everyone, there aren’t that many fights to begin with, but at least they weren’t as frustrating as the fights with Caster in UBW lol. Anyway, I really wanted to relate to Shirou’s strong determination towards saving Sakura, but I couldn’t. Sakura felt so much like a two dimensional character to me that I just couldn’t relate to how much he loved her and was willing to sacrifice for her, and unfortunately since the whole route is focused on that, the ending and everything didn’t move me at all, I felt so apathetic. I honestly felt more for Illya than Sakura. I feel like Sakura’s route wanted to show something like bitter happiness with Shirou’s physical and mental sacrifice of his whole being for her, but it’s hard to relate when Sakura isn’t worth it lol. I’m sorry, Sakura. 

I also think the thing with Angra Mainyu and the Great Holy Grail etc was boring and unnecessary. But I do acknowledge that Sakura was never meant to be a great villain or last boss kinda thing since it has always shown that this was all caused by her immense suffering and negative feelings that couldn’t be controlled, she’s really just a nice girl. But that made it boring imo. I related to her desire for an ordinary happiness, but I got a bit tired of relating to her needing everyone to die or suffer for it. Heaven’s Feel just really didn’t have the same relatable pain that Saber and Rin’s routes brought out within me even though their respective routes had their own problems. But I guess that’s what stories are like, none of them are flawless, but if they affect you, then they’re usually good, and I could very assuredly tell you that the Fate and UBW routes portrayed the goals of their routes very well, but HF didn’t. I also think HF is lacking because it doesn’t build up Shirou’s thoughts and emotions as well as the other routes too. In HF, he’s constantly losing his memories due to Archer’s arm etc so all he really does is recall his past with Sakura in the first half which can be nice and emotional in itself but it’s repetitive and bland because they’re just flashbacks lacking depth imo, and since most of the second half is Sakura kinda finding a way to die with Angra Mainyu without hurting the others, you really don’t see any more development for Sakura. So yeah, sadly, HF has more cons than pros and I can’t find it in myself to like it even though technically it seems to have less problems than the other two routes haha. Oh well.

#fate stay night

[aquilaofarkham]

title: varulven rating: teen and up word count: 5,717 summary: After being bitten by a werewolf, Trevor, knowing he doesn’t have much of a choice, accepts his fate following a painful transformation during the full moon. He quickly gets used to his new body with the support of Sypha and Alucard, who uses his own wolf form to better connect with Trevor. Part two of this piece.

read on ao3 at aquilaofarkham

--

The forest overwhelms him; too many new sounds, new scents, and new sensations all happening at once. The newly born lycan can hear everything from the smallest mouse digging into the frozen dirt, readying itself for hibernation, to the subtle crack of an owl’s talons clawing into tree bark as it moves from branch to branch. It watches and waits, ever so patient for that very same mouse. 

This assault on his senses continues. All things previously closed off when he was human have suddenly been opened. Through his eyes, the world is closer, more intimate. No moment to breathe. His thoughts are bursting with excitement and uncertainty, confusion and fervor.

He lifts his head and sees a white wolf upon a nearby hill. Sitting on his hind legs, head raised high and tall, staring back at the lycan. The skies are dark, save for the full moon, but thank god it’s not snowing else they’d never find each other. He knows the wolf will stay there all night if he has to, but the lycan won’t keep him waiting for much longer. This is a comforting sight; one that compels him to move forward. To join his friend, now that the two of them share more similarities than ever before (unconventional as they are).

Contrary to what most people believe, vampires and lycans get along very well.

Trevor doesn’t know if he will make peace with this form. It’s too soon to tell. But joining Alucard on a run through the snow-covered woods seems to be a decent start. White fur and dark grey fur move quickly against a sea of pin straight black trees. Their swift paws kick up snow as one tries running just an inch faster and further than the other—whether either of them realizes it or not.

When Trevor arrived home a month ago with claw marks gracing his shoulder, Alucard and Sypha did their best. All of them did their best. The two consulted books, legends, and remedies while their hunter prepared himself for the worst. Trevor will forever be grateful to them, despite their failure to stop the lycan’s curse. After the pain of transformation ended, he suddenly felt nothing. He could see nothing, only blood red and an emptiness surrounding him. It was dark inside the wolf. A realization that his body was no longer his own. He had lost control over it.

The first thing Trevor heard was his name. Faint and very weak, not strong enough to pull him out of the darkness. Whatever force held dominion over his body, its immediate instinct was to bare its fangs and violently lash out.

“Trevor, it’s us. You remember, I know you do.” The second thing Trevor heard. Clear and recognizable, even in his state. Sypha’s firm, unwavering, yet calm voice, a voice he always hoped to hear again, was able to cut through the prison that trapped his human thoughts and sight. Another problem solved, another victory she could hang off her belt. Sypha needed one of those, yet she also knew it wasn’t time to celebrate. No premature smiles or breaths of relief.

Trevor vaguely remembers what happened next; low to the ground, he crawled towards the two human creatures in front of him. Uncertain of how much personal control he had regained. Nor was he sure of how easily it could slip away again. Then same another familiar voice, like a candle in a dark corridor leading him to someplace brighter. Trevor Belmont is always in want—or rather, in need of brighter things.

“Trevor...” Alucard was never one to reveal his true emotions especially in the way he spoke. Neutral, steady, and blunt. Most often rude if he were in a foul mood, yet he raised his voice sparingly. But if Alucard was attempting to hide a certain emotion in that single word, he failed. All Trevor could hear was a desperate plea for hope.

He put their fears to rest when the front of his head gently pressed into Alucard’s outstretched palm. Trevor didn’t move beyond that; too ashamed, too scared of this new form that dwarfed his friends. Alucard cautiously slid his hand up between the lycan’s eyes before scratching his ears. Something Trevor did to those old grey Belmont wolfhounds of his long gone home. A shockingly pleasant sensation, making him feel akin to one of said large, gentle beasts he misses so dearly. Large is obvious, but gentle? Trevor wants to try his best.

It was a good decision to leave the cellar with the now broken door. Trevor would have otherwise cowered in a corner come sunrise. Out here, deep in the snow and cold air, adrenaline rushes through his veins just as easily as blood. Mixed with his habitual tendency to compete against the dhampir, it’s enough to propel him forward, matching Alucard’s speed.

This forest is his. Theirs.

--

One should never underestimate Sypha Belnades. She’s sent demons back to hell in flames of her own creation. She stood against the vampires’ mad lord and burned him to ashes which flew off into the night sky, their final resting place unknown. She played reluctant peacemaker between two men, more like children despite their own abilities. A minimal accomplishment compared to others, but an accomplishment, nonetheless. All those moments when she held her bright fingertips close against their temples saying, “Grow up or I will light both of your skulls on fire”.

Keeping track of two wolf-like creatures seems easy compared to everything else. Stay close, stay watchful, and never stray too far from the fresh set of paw prints in the snow. A real-life Ariadne with her precious red thread. Sypha adored listening to those stories from her childhood, begging to hear one more before bedtime. It didn’t matter if they were real or not, though she always believed they were.

Belief is a powerful force; just as if not more powerful than her spells. She still believes in many things that cross bearing men reject; things good and bad. Of magic, vampires, and the myths that give life to both. Sypha loves her myths—even the unsettling ones. The ones that unearth truths that no one wants to hear. She once hoped some of them would help spare Trevor from his eventual fate.

She sat on the floor of their library, surrounded by piles of books like stone walls. A momen in time that feels long ago but in reality, happened only a few short days prior to the full moon. The words in front of her blurred together as she rubbed her aching eyes, yet she kept reading.

Sypha studied the lycan’s many origins: they came from a scorned lover of Gilgamesh, having been turned into a wolf against their will. No, they were punished by the god Jupiter for eating the remains of a sacrificed boy. Actually, they were merely by-products of the oldest vampires. On and on an on. She read of the symptoms: nightmares, vomiting, lack of an appetite. Increase in agitation. She wanted to scream, “I know that already” into the pages of those particular books. What she needed from these myths were cures.

While it made her hands twitch and her heart pound with anxiety, Sypha did what she promised Trevor: she kept searching. She kept reading.

So engrossed in her reading, Sypha barely noticed Alucard as he sat down beside her. A silence grew between them every time her fingers flipped over another page. He watched her eyes move from line to line, scaling down. A warm light filled the library; it would be dark soon and he wasn’t about to let her go through yet another sleepless night. Sypha’s sharp mind needed rest, but then again, they all did.

“You have that look again.” Despite how softly he spoke, Alucard noticed her jump. Sypha glanced at him briefly, then returned to her book, burying her nose in even deeper.

“What look?”

“The one that says focused yet angry. Calm, but disturb me and I will separate your head from your neck.”

She hid her amusement at Alucard’s dark brand of humour. “I am not angry.”

“Are you certain?”

“... perhaps a little. More frustrated. These books have nothing that can help us. There are apparently plenty of ways to tame a lycan after they transform.”

“But no methods of curing them.”

Sypha closed the book; Alucard took that as a yes. “What about you? I’ve seen you held up in that laboratory. Sometimes for hours on end.”

When they started rebuilding the Belmont manor with its library, bedrooms, armoury, and kitchen, they added a new room. A mirror image of the laboratory and clinic Alucard remembered so fondly. Full of medicines, glass tubes, and other devices neither Trevor nor Sypha fully understood but were willing to learn. He used it more often than them, carrying on important, irreplaceable work.

A local rumour began spreading amongst the neighbouring villages. Talk of a stranger dressed in black going from door to door, giving remedies to the sick while refusing payment. They never did manage to catch this good Samaritan.

Sypha once saw Alucard with his hair different. Still loose but tied with a simple hairband and hanging over his breast. When she mentioned it, innocently enough, Alucard went quiet. She hasn’t seen him like that since.

“Did... did your mother’s notes say anything?”

“Unfortunately, she didn’t have very many patients afflicted with the lycan’s curse.” Usually Sypha could recognize the sarcasm in Alucard’s tone; this time proved more difficult. “But I had more success reading the notes she and my father wrote together. I’ve started concocting a tonic using distilled wolfsbane.”

“And...”

Alucard didn’t want to give Sypha false hope. “It still needs work. With its current state, it will most likely kill him.”

“Maybe...” Sypha stopped herself. Never in her life did she want to admit defeat. Always too stubborn, too proud, tasting bile in her mouth if she even thought about it. Yet she told Trevor and Alucard to grow up. Perhaps it was time she did as well, especially if the life of someone she loved was at stake.

“Maybe it would be best if we let Trevor transform. We can use your tonic to ease the pain when he changes and then try taming him afterwards. These books annoy me beyond anything else, but I found a manuscript about northern lycan myths.” Shoving aside everything else, she grabbed a flimsy set of brown papers held together by thread and sheer perseverance. “It stood out the most. I think it may assist us.”

Alucard stared at the so-called “book” in Sypha’s hand. Its ink scrawls were barely legible to his eyes. “We would have to tie him down. Or lock him somewhere secure.”

“We have that cellar. I know you don’t like this plan.”

“I don’t think either of us does.” Sypha nodded in agreement. “I will tell him.”

“You do not have to.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to help him.”

“He won’t like what you have to say. He’s barely gotten any rest.”

“No one living in this house has.” He placed his hand on her back. “Don’t worry, Sypha. I will talk to him.”

“Gently. Remember to be gentle with him.”

“I shall.”

“Before you do that, we need to finish that tonic. I will help.”

“That won’t be necessary. You should—”

Sypha pushed the manuscript against his chest. “I said I’m helping. And you should read this.”

Alucard smiled. “There’s not much I can say that would convince you otherwise, is there?”

“Nothing at all.”

Deep in her memories, Sypha nearly trips over herself. Alucard was right; she hated that plan. It worked, but she hated it for making her think the worst. For making her feel as though she had willingly doomed Trevor to his fate. That she had been defeated.

Her feet begin to ache. She keeps reminding herself of one thing: this is not defeat. Only another obstacle to overcome. A door opening to a new way of life. Sypha is used to walking through those. She scales up another hill, her two boys off in the distance, still in sight.

She should have worn better shoes.

--

Wolves cannot run forever. Even those of supernatural origins must stop, which is what Trevor and Alucard do. But one still has mountains of energy to burn. His head is a flurry of different thoughts. Some take root while most leave just as fast as they entered. No matter where they came from or what they entail, they all succeed in contradicting each other.

One thought manages to rise above the rest: what else can this new body really do?

Alucard takes his rest not far from Trevor, who seems to be in his own little world. Not content enough to run around in circles, he takes to rolling about in the snow, attacking it the same way a pup would pounce at everything in sight, animate or not. A pup... yes, that’s what Alucard is reminded of. He watches in amusement as Trevor trips over his legs, too long and cumbersome for his liking. No normal wolf would be able to handle such abnormal bodily proportions of a lycan’s.

It takes some trial and error—more error than trial. Only when Trevor actually stops to think does he regain some control over his limbs. No more flopping around; now he can revert straight back to his playful demeanour, this time on much steadier footing.

—Quite the beacon of terror, the dhampir thinks. Villagers must be quaking with fear underneath their bedcovers tonight.

Alucard lowers himself against the ground. Let Trevor have his fun. Lord knows he deserves it after a month of hell. This might even count as a valuable lesson. There’ll be plenty more to come.

Trevor rolls off his back and makes brief contact with golden eyes against white fur. Gold like amber or the cinders of a well-used fireplace. He looks at Alucard and wonders if the dhampir’s transformation is ever as painful as his own. No, Trevor realizes the longer he stares. Not painful or ugly at all. A few gentle, graceful wisps of smoke and the deed is done. Seems everything Alucard does is gentle and graceful, no matter what form he takes.

A mischievous thought worms its way into Trevor’s head. Alucard maintains his statuesque posture; beautiful, regal, and boring. At first, he ignores the other wolf, occasionally glancing in his direction out of curiosity and confusion. Packs of snow get thrown into the air with every wag of Trevor’s shaggy tail. Alucard’s head tilts slightly, his ears pinned back.

—What are you planning? Why are you staring at me like that?

What can barely be described as a tense standoff ends when Trevor shoves Alucard. Despite being larger and arguably stronger as a lycan, this action does nothing to faze his companion. Trevor repeats the gesture; still not enough to crack his hard exterior—but not enough to deter his scheming counterpart. Trevor charges headfirst into Alucard, more a ram than a wolf.

Alucard, if he so wanted, could overpower the lycan. Push him off or knock him flat on his own back. Yet he stays in a somewhat defeated pose with his limbs bent and dangling. Trevor continues his attempt at what Alucard can only assume is... bonding? He nuzzles his snout into the white wolf’s fur while his oversized front paws push against his exposed belly. Another jovial act between his family’s cherished wolfhounds.

Trevor also recalls riding on their backs as they took him up and down the halls of the Belmont manor then outside through the gardens when he was still small enough. Sypha might be able to ride on his back, maybe even Alucard as well. Wouldn’t that be a sight to behold.

Trevor becomes lost in this new, break-neck pace of thinking, one thought after another and then another. He doesn’t notice that the playful bites he’s been giving his friend have unknowingly turned aggressive. Alucard retaliates by baring his fangs and letting out a deep, guttural snarl.

—Not so rough.

Trevor instinctively backs away. As an apology, he lowers his head and tries making his body seem much smaller than it really is. The same action he attempted in the cellar following his change. Lycans simply take up too much space. Too large, too obstructive, and too rough, even towards similar creatures. He huffs out a frustrated breath into the frigid air.

Alucard ceases his growling when he sees this abrupt shift. He didn’t mean for his reaction to be so harsh. He’s supposed to be helping after all. Days before the full moon when Trevor quietly wept out of fear—fear of himself—Alucard showed his own vulnerable side. He let Trevor rest his head upon his chest, wiping away the tears and offering small words of comfort until he drifted off into a desperately needed sleep. How could either of them forget that evening?

His father taught him that even those most experienced in transfiguration often have difficulty controlling their emotions. Too dulled down or too impassioned, exploding at any spontaneous moment. It would explain Trevor’s excitable behavior.

Softly, he treads over to the curled-up mass of thick fur. Trevor pouts as though he were still human. He really is just a newborn lycan on his first night out; an overgrown pup. His playfulness should be seen as a blessing in disguise. Alucard gives his snout a couple gentle pats, apologizing himself. To which Trevor merely grumbles.

—Stick in the ass you are.

Alucard has no way of telling if that’s what he’s really thinking, but he can come to his own conclusions. He knows the Belmont well enough. He responds with a frisky bite to his ear, eliciting a surprised yelp from Trevor. Rows upon rows of fangs snap at Alucard, who always dodges them at the very last second, before getting pinned down.

They continue like this, chasing and wrestling each other, causing their own little intimate chaos. Even their growls sound happier. It took some time, but they’re finally playing the same game. All is well again—or as well as things could be.

It comes to an end when a sound off in the distance catches Trevor’s attention. He raises his head; ears perked up, and listens. It’s not Sypha, no doubt making her way across the rolling landscape, closing in on her two boys. It’s no human at all. Something else, perhaps an animal or more, scurries through the frozen underbrush. A certain primal urge suddenly rises within Trevor, one that all beasts share: the need to chase and hunt. He stands up, nose pointed in the direction of the noise, ignoring the white wolf’s yips. Before he can run off, Alucard bites down and pulls him back.

—For once in your life, wait. 

Trevor does pause. but not without growling at him for leaving teeth marks on his tail. He begrudgingly lets Alucard take the lead. They begin their hunt.

--

Somewhere, a clock hand strikes past midnight. Trevor and Alucard huddle together, their eyes fixated on a small flock of wild pheasants. Not quite the prize they were hoping for, but decent practice. Like before, Trevor allows the white wolf to go first, all while trying to tell himself that as a human, he’s still the better hunter.

However, he must admit, it is mesmerizing to watch Alucard hunt as a wolf as it is watching him fight as a dhampir. Every step is deliberate and creates no sound as eyes never leave their prey, inching closer. A calculated, flawless leap forward, the panicked scattering of pheasants except for one thrashing around for freedom under his paw, and then finally, the wolf twists the bird’s neck in his jaws. He makes it all seem so easy.

Alucard carries the lifeless, slumped prize over to Trevor. So quick and barely even a drop of blood. He finds the rest of the flock a few feet away. They continue pecking at whatever berries and frozen grub they can scrounge for, unaware or having already forgotten that one of their own is dead. Trevor enjoys a challenge in all aspects of his life, but for now he’ll a dumb prey over a clever one. He start by mimicking Alucard’s movements and everything seems to be going well. Cumbersome due to his size but after some adjustments to his stance, the dhampir feels optimistic.

Then Trevor loses his chance to strike by half a second. The pheasants begin to disperse, and he rushes into them, striking one with his claws. It tries escaping; Trevor tries catching it. There’s a struggle as both hunter and prey put up their own fight. Jaws clamp down on the bird’s neck, but instead of a clean snap, splatters of blood and feathers cover the white ground. Trevor stares down at his prize, mangled and torn beyond recognition.

—Too rough. Again.

Alucard expected something like this would happen and, in the end, Trevor was successful in finishing his first hunt. So, he isn’t disappointed. Yet Trevor dully paws at what used to be a pheasant with dejection in his eyes. Alucard tries cheering him up by licking his bloody snout clean. It helps.

They come across a drove of jackrabbits with their guard down, a rare but lucky sight. The second hunt goes much smoother. Alucard catches two, Trevor four, all of which hang out of his mouth intact. If Sypha were here right now, she would have a good laugh at the sheer ridiculous sight of such a beast with his jaws stuffed to the brim with rabbits. 

Speak of the devil. Out of the corner of Alucard’s eye, he sees Sypha in the near distance, two pheasants hanging off her hip. He motions for Trevor to follow him.

Trevor doesn’t acknowledge him, nor does he notice Sypha. If a new sound or smell no matter how faraway demands his interest, then he must comply. All else, even close friends, fade away. He can’t help it in this form. He meanders over the hills, leaving Alucard and Sypha to do little but trail behind him. Something tells them that this is not just simple curiosity pulling the lycan.

Silently, Trevor leads them to a clearing in the trees. Out of the darkness, shapes and silhouettes come into view. Not particularly large, but substantial. Some far apart, some close together. Houses, few of which still have candles inside, burning the night away. The softened lights illuminate each frosted window like small drifting halos. It’s deathly still in this hamlet; they might have never discovered its existence had it not been for Trevor.

—Trevor. Alucard joins his side, fearing the worst. His head is lowered as he violently bats at it with his paws, agitated by some unseen tick. Every breath comes out as a growling rasp while streams of saliva drip off his fangs. The look in his eyes, the one Alucard and Sypha know so well, is gone.

It’s happening again. Even the idea of being so close to other humans is enough to reawaken the hunger. Not to hunt or feed, but to rip and mangle and leave nothing unscathed. Trevor loses his balance, stumbling from foot to foot, shaking his head. God knows he’s trying to gain back control, and it hurts him. Alucard barks in his ear, deafening him.

—Fight it. Trevor, or what Alucard hopes is still Trevor, responds with a fierce snap of his jaws. They snarl, and bark, and brandish their claws. Sypha tears her eyes away, despite not wanting to. She can hear voices within the houses, villagers stirring from their rest at what they believe is the sound of two wolves tearing at each other’s throats. She pleads for them to stay inside. This doesn’t concern them.

—Fight it. God damn it, I know you can. Fight it!

Trevor doesn’t care for Alucard’s thoughts. With another swipe, he sends him skidding across the ground and into the base of a tree. The pain is sharp but quick. Alucard stands, thankful that he is no ordinary wolf. Before he can charge at Trevor, Sypha moves between them, her hands raised.

“Trevor, stop!” She’s not afraid, not anymore. Or rather, she doesn’t look afraid. Her expression is firm, brows furrowed. All concentration on this one spell. It needs to be performed without any uncertainty. There’s no fire or ice emitting from her fingertips, yet Trevor howls bloody murder.

Spells that can change the mind and its contents are dangerous. In the hands of a less experienced practitioner, too much can go wrong. If one doesn’t succumb to an early death, then madness. Which is why Sypha has always preferred to manipulate tangible elements. But she’s never been above taking risks. She focuses every bit of her energy into restoring Trevor’s conscience. Hopefully it will shift itself in the right direction and neither she nor Alucard will be forced to commit the unthinkable.

“Look at me... keep your eyes on me. It will be alright, I promise.” Sypha doesn’t make promises lightly. Trevor huffs, gritting his fangs, but his gaze never leaves her. He waves his head from side to side again, as if trying to shake off a terrible headache. The growls quiet until they disappear. Sypha breathes a relieved yet trembling sigh when Trevor’s eyes soften. She steps forward and wraps her arms around his head, so large her fingers barely touch. Her forehead rests against his.

“Shh, none of that. You did well. I told you it would be alright.” She strokes his fur, listening to every whimper.

As his senses return, so too does his memory. Trevor wriggles free from Sypha’s grasp and runs to Alucard, still whining. While shaken up, his body bears no serious injuries, only some out of place fur. That doesn’t stop Trevor from licking and nuzzling him like an overbearing mother wolf. Alucard appreciates the concern, but he can stop now. After a moment of calm respite between the three of them, he decides that this night should come to an end. Before Sypha can follow him, the tip of her hood gets caught in Trevor’s teeth.

“What is it?” He lets go and lowers his underside against the snow, gesturing to his back. He knows Sypha came here by foot, all on her own; he can’t just let her return the same way. “Oh... well, this is...” Does he really want her to...?

Trevor gives her a nudge before she can stutter out another syllable. Alright, then. When in Rome and all that. Grabbing handfuls of fur, Sypha climbs aboard. She fumbles a bit then finds a comfortable position. Moments like these make Sypha thankful for their isolated, self-contained life. How would she explain this to her grandfather or the other Speakers? Even so, she can’t help but bury herself deeper in Trevor’s warm fur.

They catch up to Alucard with his mouth full of dead jackrabbits. Using the light of the moon as their guide, a lycan, a dhampir in the shape of a wolf, and a Speaker magician retrace their steps back to their home. Back to their bed.

--

The next day arrives, bringing with it the sun as it crawls over the Wallachian mountainside. Sypha stirs awake and forces her sleep heavy eyes open. The hazy light of early morning shines through the snow-covered glass of the bedroom window panes. Curling into the fetal position, she holds her knees tight against her chest. Both hands massage her bare feet, alleviating some of their soreness after her midnight excursion.

Is it possible for a single night to feel stretched out to its limits? Lingering for longer than a few hours at the most? Sypha remembers the set of events that occured last night, despite them feeling like a dream. All of them tumbling into place one after another without rest. The last memory is of her in bed, safe, warm, and guarded. A bit suffocated but sleeping better than she did for the entire month. She knows who to thank for that.

Sitting up (a feat much easier said than done), Sypha believes she’ll look down at two wolves who are fast asleep. Just as she did before closing her eyes in the darkness, their bodies cuddled around her. One has white fur and a sleek build; the second, a lycan with thick fur and a mass that might have broken the bed in half.

She sees the white wolf, but in place of the other is a large blanket spreading out. As though the lycan had been neatly skinned and stripped of all its fur. The most curious thing about it is the human-esque shape protruding from underneath. Sypha lifts up one of the corners and with wide, bright eyes, she smiles. None of the books mentioned anything about this.

Trevor lies on his side covered by the fur blanket (or what must have been his skin), naked and in the grips of a deep, comfortable sleep. His breathing is gentle and every so often, a soft snore escapes. Sypha thinks she’s staring at an entirely different man. The tired, dark circles under his eyes are gone and his skin looks softer, healthier. Those years of turmoil and loneliness since he was twelve, all faded away after one night.

Tenderly, she runs a few fingers through his tousled hair. He will be fine. The fear she had when his fangs sharpened, and his eyes grew vicious was only momentary. Sypha wants to be hopeful, her most cherished emotion right after belief. She wants to hope and believe that Trevor might find the strength within himself to live with this curse. She also wants to bend down and hold him for the rest of the morning, no fear that he will disappear the next day or even in the next hour. But Sypha won’t wake him just yet. She slips out of bed, hurrying across the cold floor, a blanket wrapped around her shivering body, until she reaches the manor kitchen.

The lasting effects of a night well slept soon dissipate as Sypha abruptly stops, staring with surprised eyes at Trevor and Alucard’s midnight spoils. Namely, a pile of dead pheasants and hares complete with bloody feathers strewn along the wooden table where they have their meals together. They were all so exhausted, she almost forgot about those.

Sypha walks past the pile and begins preparing her breakfast.

--

Alucard is next to wake up. He opens his mouth in a wide yawn, licking dry lips, before giving his back a good stretch. After a few smooth wisps of mist rising into the air, he returns to his normal form. Fully clothed, wearing everything from his high boots, tight black pants, and the white shirt with the plunging neckline. He remains splayed across the bedsheets, straightening out the rest of his limbs. Letting out a tired yet satisfied moan, Alucard props himself up on his elbow and turns to Trevor. His reaction is just as pleasantly shocked as Sypha’s. Reaching over, he nudges him awake.

“Good morning,” he coos. Once Trevor’s eyes open and he gains an awareness of where he is, his cheeks go slightly pink.

“I didn’t expect this.”

“Did you feel anything transfiguring back?”

“No, nothing at all. If only the first transformation went this way.”

“So, you remember everything we did. Hunting, running...”

“I do... more than I remember most things when I’m human. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it felt like to run that fast. Then there was... when I almost—”

“Nothing happened. It wasn’t your fault, and no one was hurt. Remember that as well.” Aside from a brief lapse in contentment, Alucard is relieved at how well Trevor is taking everything. He stares at him for a bit longer. His blue eyes, normally so tired and worn, look so much brighter in the winter sunlight. “How do you feel?”

“Good. Actually, I feel better than good. I felt so heavy before. Everywhere I went, even when I met you and Sypha, I was constantly carrying around all this extra weight. You could never see it, but it was there, beating down on my shoulders while I rotted from the inside out. I don’t know, it sounds like I’m being too dramatic. But now... I feel lighter. Newer, I guess. It’s as though I’ve just taken the longest fucking bath of my life.”

“Interesting way to describe it.”

“But, be honest with me.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“How hideous did I look? When I was... you know, in that form?”

Alucard doesn’t answer right away, preferring to keep Trevor in mild suspense. “It was not that terrible of a sight. You might actually look better as a lycan than a human.”

Trevor feebly tosses a pillow at his face. “Shut up.” Then comes an exasperated groan as he shoves his face into what used to be his “skin”. “Christ, that was a long night.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to go through it again?”

A valid question, and an important one. Trevor thinks about it at length. He can’t decide whether he wants his answer to be optimistic or his usual of reluctant acceptance. “I guess we’ll have to see in about a month’s time. Not like I have much of a choice.”

Alucard reaches over and grazes a couple fingertips along his stubbled chin. “You should know that I’m proud of you. We both are.”

“... don’t think I’ve heard that word come out of your mouth before.”

“Which one?”

“Proud. Of me in particular.”

“I’ve been proud of you many times in the past. I simply never vocalized it.”

“Well, my life’s purpose as been fulfilled. Guess I can die a happy man now.”

Grabbing the very same pillow, Alucard brings it down upon Trevor’s head again and again. “That was a horrible joke.” But the hunter, turn lycan, then turned back into a man only laughs.

Real laughter; it’s been too long since Alucard heard that sound.

#castlevania #trevor belmont #alucard #adrian tepes #sypha belnades #netflix castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #my writing #*cvfic #you don't necessarily have to read part one to understand part two but i'd still recommend it <3

[chaldeaslunchbox]

Hi! May I request for hcs of Cas!Gil with an overworked and stressed master who is also his s/o?😊

Caster Gilgamesh + Overworked Master S/O Head-canons!

Requested by: @lana1708

Kind of Fate related but I just realized that Sword Art Online’s ost is also made by Yuki Kajiura! I’ve been rewatching it and I noticed how similar the soundtracks are for the Fate series and SAO. 

King Gilgamesh was always known for overworking himself to death (literally), but you were just on another level.

Yeah, yeah, saving the world and stuff makes things pretty busy and all but because of your ways of engrossing yourself with the tiny details the workload quadruples under your watch.

Gilgamesh works together with you for hours on end, but even he knows that a break is necessary once in a while (heavy emphasis on ONCE).

He tries to pull you out of your work trance by pretending to be sleepy, claiming that he will be “of the highest comfort” if you were to join him and pets the empty space next to him.

Of course he is duly ignored which annoys him to no end.

Then he tries to situate himself on your lap and blocks your view of whatever you were trying to work on and turns your face to his.

You just push him away casually without even a second glance.

“Excuse me Gil, could you move your head a little to the right? I need to read this fine print.” you don’t even look up to see his (adorable) pout before he “hmphs” and walks away.

In the end, just as Enkidu cares for Gilgamesh in his working sprees, he also takes on the role of your caretaker, massaging your shoulders, eliminating knots from sitting too long, and brings your meals to your desk.

Then cue Gil getting jealous of you responding to Enkidu and he in turn also tries to tend to your needs, at least as much as he can without admitting it…

“Hmph! This tea isn’t just for you! I will drink it first and then you can have the rest!” he says as he pushes the cup in your direction. 

Oh Gil, you’re so cute.

Finally you turn to face him, craning your neck up so to place a thank you kiss on his cheek and smile.

When you finally finish your work though, of course the first thing on your mind is to find Gilgamesh.

Of course he’s always upset at you for neglecting him, but it blows over soon enough.

The next few days you’re worked pretty hard, but rather than filing paperwork, attending meetings and the such, it’s more like locking yourselves up in the bedroom and tumbling around the bed. Just casual things y’know?

#lunchbox hc #caster gilgamesh #gilgamesh #fate go #fgo #fate grand order #fate series #enkidu #babylonia #fate zero #lana1708

[secret-engima]

alyss-spazz-penedo

hey, @secret-engima​, hear me out: what if GILGAMESH became Glaucus' Shield? Like, after the two Murder Brats jumped into the Tempering Grounds and Glaucus has to fish them out, the man takes a moment to chew GIL out for endangering children like that, he SAW that last swing and it was aimed unacceptably close to a vital area, what even is he doing STILL haunting the damn Tempering Grounds anyway when the next worthwhile opponent won't be for literal decades (ie. Gladio)

alyss-spazz-penedo

So Gil is clubbed over the head with the idea that he doesn't actually have to follow 200 years of habit and, like. Ardyn's moved on, is living a life, and Gil KNOWS what's coming and that there's no value to holding his post, killing off idiots, once these people leave bc Cor was the only worthwhile opponent for literal decades. He can... he can take a VACATION.

alyss-spazz-penedo

....He has no idea what to do with a vacation, so he falls back on EVEN OLDER HABITS and is like well let's play Shield for a LC then. And maybe, MAYBE he'd pick Ardyn, but there's just. So much history there. That wouldn't... that wouldn't WORK, it would hurt them both just to try.

alyss-spazz-penedo

Which leaves just one LC available (arguably, bc Titus would absolutely fight him for the position but the brat's too young still. Maybe in a few years). And, Gilgamesh KNOWS what's up with Glaucus-once-Cor-Leonis, might be the only person in the world who DOES know, and that's//

alyss-spazz-penedo

*and that's... that's something I think Glaucus might really need. Just. Someone to help him remember who he WAS,

alyss-spazz-penedo

(Also, the thought of Ardyn and Gil wandering around being terrible at self-care and utter bemused by the world amuses me. Also Besithia would probably be an Utter Scientific Glee)

Me: *deep breath*

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

BUCKLE UP RAMBLE FICLET INBOUND.

-It starts after the Murder Children are idiots and Glaucus has to come rescue them. Titus and Cor have never been more humbled, confused, and terrified than watching Glaucus snark at a 2k year old potential eldritch abomination and GET AWAY WITH IT. Glaucus actually makes Gilgamesh shuffle in shame when he lectures about how close he came to actually HURTING two of Glaucus’s kids. How dare.

-Then Glaucus takes a long, hard look at Gil and abruptly tells him to take a vacation. It’s not like the world is gonna end if he leaves the Tempering Grounds for a decade or so (Titus and Cor are a Fear™, don’t tell the monster to LEAVE it’s hideout and roam the world Glaucus!!). Gil stares at Glaucus in a stunned silence, Glaucus grunts and walks away, lecturing the two murder children.

-Gil thinks ... long and hard on Glaucus’s words.

-In the end decides it’s a moot point because when he was first cursed to this place he did try to leave a few times but he couldn’t. His curse wouldn’t let him. Pity though ... a vacation had sounded ... nice.

-That’s right around the time Ifrit shows up.

-Now, Ifrit doesn’t like humans, even after giving Glaucus his Blessing for the time-travel thing. He tolerates a few of them, even finds Glaucus and his group funny, but on the whole doesn’t like them. Know what he does like? Screwing over Bahamut. And when Glaucus mentioned Gilgamesh’s curse situation within Ifrit’s earshot (ie said it aloud at all because Ifrit tends to watch them from afar like his only tolerated cable tv channel), Ifrit got IDEAS.

-So Gilgamesh is in his Tempering Grounds, minding his own business and being broody bored when there’s a rush of fire and Ifrit the Infernian is standing there looking ... cunning.

-“Mortal.” Ifrit intones.

-“Not really,” Gilgamesh snarks because he’s a walking suit of armor cursed to live until the Chosen King comes, what’s Ifrit gonna do? Curse him again?

-Ifrit just grins “How would you like to change that?”

-Excuse him?

-Anyway after much smug talking from the Infernian, much sarcasm from Gilgamesh, and some severe bending of the rules of curses with a little shapeshifting magic thrown in for flavor, Gilgamesh kinda- blinks and finds himself outside the Tempering Grounds. In the sunlight.

-For the first time in 2k years.

-Yeah there might have been a panic attack or three. Especially because he now had lungs with which to HAVE a panic attack again. Ifrit had granted him a human form (one-armed and with a scar on his back just like the missing arm of his armor and the rend Titus had made) which technically Ifrit shouldn’t have been able to, except apparently he can just this once because he’s not bothering to use a human disguise and he was GOOD at this kind of magic while the rest of the Astrals were too busy being holier than thou to bother learning human-friendly enchantments.

-Gilgamesh sets off into the wilds, quickly figures out he has forgotten how to maintain an eating or sleeping schedule and he’s probably gonna go into a coma or something if he travels alone. So with a dry smile (that feels so good he HAS FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AGAIN. WOOT.) he sets off for where he can feel the magic of the time-traveling Sword.

-A week-ish after Ifrit shows up, so maybe 2-3 weeks after the Murder Children do their thing, Glaucus is having some “me time” out in the forest (happily murdering things to bring back to camp later without having a nattering crowd on his heels, he loves his idiots and Regis’s group, but sometimes they’re ... a bit much) when all the hairs on his neck prickle. He looks up and sees two red eyes glowing faintly in the shadows.

-The figure steps out wordlessly, hand away from his sword. One arm is missing and the man stands at a massive 7′6″, his eyes are a dark red that glints in the low lightning, his shaggy brown hair is pulled back into half-tail to keep it out of his face, which has scars on the right side from some old fight.

-Glaucus lowers his sword, but doesn’t ease from his stance, “I didn’t know you could look human, Gil,” he says almost flippantly.

-“Had a little help from your pet Astrals,” Gilgamesh retorts, his smile tugging at his scars. His posture is relaxed and non-threatening and almost ... uncertain. Like he isn’t sure what to say or how Glaucus will react.

-Glaucus just looks at him thoughtfully before snorting, “My gang of idiots is not the best place for a vacation.”

-Gilgamesh is blunt and open, “I’ve forgotten how to sleep when the moon rises, when to eat so I won’t pass out. I cannot die until the Chosen King comes into his own, but it is still unpleasant. I also...” he hesitates, “I do not remember how to function without a purpose. To fight. To guard the Grounds. To await the Last Shield. Without them ... I am lost.”

-“So you came to me.”

-“You are the only Lucis Caelum without a Shield.”

-Glaucus sneers “A Sword doesn’t need a Shield,” he scoffs, “and isn’t Ardyn more your speed?”

-Gilgamesh winces, “I have made my apologies,” and hadn’t that been a dramafest when Glaucus dragged the newly purified Ardyn to the Tempering Grounds for Gilgamesh to apologize to him, “but we will never stand united as a Shield and a King. I have broken his trust once, he does not give it a second time. Not in the way he would need for me to be his Shield. Besides,” and now Gilgamesh smiles ruefully, “For all his bite, the young Drautos is more a Shield than the Little Lion will ever be.”

-Glaucus flinches at the far off memory, of promising to be Regis’s second Shield, of protecting him no matter what only to fail. But Gilgamesh did not mean the words as an insult and the man makes a point. For all his recklessness and snark and fury, Titus is protective. His instinct is to kill on behalf of something rather than just to feel the adrenaline in his veins. He is protective of Ardyn, and Ardyn listens to the boy. Glaucus sheaths his sword and flexes his hands, “I don’t know how to have a Shield,” he admits softly, “you know I’m not ... natural.” Not a natural LC, not a born one, a time-traveler added to the line for the sake of the future and nothing more.

-“Neither am I,” Gilgamesh shrugs, “it is nothing to be ashamed of. You have the instincts to forge a Shield Bond imprinted in your very magic. I will swear fealty, and you will command me.”

-“Doesn’t that take trust?” Glaucus points out, “You’ve tried to kill me once before, and I know what you did to Ardyn.”

-A pause. A weighted reply of, “it takes trust. The trust that I will fight by your side and be strong enough to watch your back, that I will voice my opposition but obey your every command. The trust that there is no secret you can hold that will turn me away from you.” The last part is meaningful, pointed.

-They stand there in the increasing gloom of dusk for a long time. A former Leonine Sword and a Cursed Shield.

-Then Glaucus laughs, rough and wild and bloody. His eyes spark silver-bright as his magic reaches out and angrily, possessively tangles around Gilgamesh. It carves away the old, tattered, withered bond he once held with Somnus, a blade cutting away a rotted limb, then coils into place. A silent demand for loyalty, a silent acceptance of all Gilgamesh is and has done. Gilgamesh kneels and swears fealty to a new king, a old lion with glittering claws, and in the quiet of twilight, Glaucus names him Gildas, Gilgamesh’s old name from before he was the Mystic’s Shield, his current name of blood and trials and terror, both cast aside in favor of the new one. A new start.

-Gildas rises and follows Glaucus back to camp.

-While the rest of the groups stare in surprise at the massive, one-armed giant of a man Glaucus comes back with, Ardyn stills. Gildas and Ardyn stare at each other for some time, long enough for Titus to bristle protectively, not quite recognizing Gildas as the unarmored and once-more human Gilgamesh. Then Ardyn smiles, sad and understanding and ... forgiving, and pats the Haven in welcome, “Come, friend, introduce yourself to us and enjoy a meal.”

-Gildas dips his head, submission and gratitude all in one, “I am Gildas,” he rumbles, “and-”

-Glaucus interrupts, a slight, possessive lion’s growl in his voice, “He is my Shield.”

-The camp erupts into chatter and questions and shouting save Ardyn, who just smiles sadly and shuffles over to make room for an old once-friend. They will never be what they once were, will never trust each other like they once did, but Ardyn has always been too forgiving of a soul when the scourge did not turn him bitter, and he knows that Gilgamesh has been trapped in the Tempering Grounds for two thousand years with only the voices of the dead to keep him company as he awaited the Chosen King, just as Ardyn was trapped for two thousand years with only the screaming of the daemons to break the silence. In Ardyn’s mind, Gilgamesh has been punished enough.

-Better to forgive and move on in this new time, than to hold onto grudges two thousand years gone.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #The Future's Blurry (the Past is Trap) verse #yesssss #gilgamesh (ffxv) #cor leonis #ffxv au