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Chaldea, Collected

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Is it not fascinating how quickly those you trust will turn on you?

“Please, mister, don’t hurt me!”

A shriek? Aha. Ahaha. Am I to be offended by it?

My withered hands lower to the small boy’s head. His hair. So soft. Delicate. Flower petals growing from the scalp of an undeserving little–


Oh. Perhaps I was too rough.

I try to be gentle with children. They are the future, you see. It is important that we prepare our children for all the beauty and fear they will be exposed to. And as I use the enflamed tips of my nails to carve elegant designs into the child’s skin, he repays my kind gesture by shouting.

Layers of his skin peel back. Canals carved into his skin flow with his blood. Magnificent. Truly. The manner in which his body opens up these rivers to me and lets the suffocated fluids below breathe in the oxygen they so desperately need. Yes! Magnificent! I could ask for no more of a worthy sacrifice.

How man can fight for a greater good and in the end be isolated from a world he so desperately tried to build?

The child squirms. Ungrateful. Life is so cruel. Unbearably so. I pin him down by his open shoulders. His eyes twinkle. His little lips quiver. Whimpers escape him. How precious. Digging my claws into his ivory skin matches only sinking your teeth into a delicious meal.

He is building up to a climax of fear. Then and only then I will ease his pain. This is a meticulous process.


…An interesting plea. One I must consider.

As the boy’s bones crunch under my iron grip, I do consider this. Of all rituals I have performed and beings I have summoned, no god has shown itself.

I’ve watched oppression bury the innocent and men crumble on the endless battlefields of Europe.

The child requires a history lesson. I curse the teachers that failed him, that failed history. I must teach him. Children are our future, after all.

“The Sun never set on the British Empire, or so the saying goes,” I say. “But the horizon was dyed red with slaughter and the flames that engulfed Orleans would come to devour our Saint.”

I close my eyes. A smile dances on my lips. The boy even hushes his cries to listen. What a good child, seeing the value in his education.

The bones in his shoulders grind as rusted gears. It is not a worry. He needs them no more, and so I tear these useless arms from his body and cast them to the floor.

Oh no, he is screaming once more. What a shame.

“You scream as though you are suffering, but you have never experienced pain,” I assure him, stroking his cheeks. “The Saint bore the sins of us all. She was beautiful. A holy maiden, gifted to an undeserving world by the heavens. Burned at the stake for what she believed.”

Continued sobbing. What a nuisance. I trail my fingers down the child’s face and tickle his neck.

If you are forgiven by your fellows, you shall find peace in the afterlife no matter God’s judgment.

He shivers. Breathtaking.

“I stood beside her on the battlefield. A sight to behold. The sun setting on a war that never ended.” I wrap my fingers around his malleable throat. Soft. Tender. Delectable. “And for what? Land? Prosperity? Religion?”

My teeth chatter. Hands shake. I squeeze. Tighter. Tighter. Such selfishness. Such naïveté. A world where prosperity is valued over peace, where beliefs are cast aside and shamed. All of the wasted centuries. Bodies toppling over each other. Falling like flies.

Tossed into ditches. Worthless.

Death where nothing has become of it. Useless.

Whereas I have repurposed the lives of the wicked and transformed their fear into power. Yes. I cannot contain my joy. A grin should crack open my face.

“Jeanne, is this what you wanted?”

“Ask yourself, my child… If God was real, would he have brought you here?”

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  • Nobody on Earth seems to dislike summer more than Rin. Let official artwork be damned, the girl is not a fan. She’s adventurous to a fault, but as soon as it gets above 30°C, that goes right out the window. 
  • Summer means sweat. Sweat means body odor. Body odor means increased necessity for personal hygiene. 
    • “I don’t want people to smell me. It’s unbecoming of a lady.”
    • “Don’t you roll your eyes at me! Sweat releases hormones and who knows what type of creeps out there might pursue a girl and say her pheromones were asking for it?!”
  • She dresses for comfort. Her shorts are short and her tops are loose-fitting, leaving little to the imagination. She figures as long as she’s staying inside for days at a time it doesn’t matter what she wears. Nobody but you is going to see her anyway.
  • Your apartment has no air conditioning and vents from forty years ago. Imagining her pale skin covered in a layer of dew, glistening in the dull lighting of your cramped apartment makes her sick, even if it makes you excited. You titter at the thought of her hair glued to her flushed cheeks, her lips hanging open as she groans in disgust.
    • “Plenty of studies show that the human mind functions poorly when in uncomfortable conditions. This can only be worse for mages. If a magus is to lose focus during their work, there could be serious consequences! Honestly, have you learned nothing from our time together?”
  • Going out is impossible. She locks herself up in Tohsaka manor because of your apartment being awful. It takes ringing on the doorbell five times or sneaking in for you to get to her. 
    • When she leaves the house with you, there’s always an adventure in mind. She likes going to the beach, camping, and hiking. (Getting her to that point is one of Heracles’s labors.)
    • She enjoys makeshift firing ranges. With explosive targets. And magic. 
      • If you are a mage, she challenges you to shooting contests all the time. It takes you flustering her for you to win, which she considers cheating.
      • If you are not a mage, she encourages you to “be useful” by setting up the targets and making sure lunch is packed and the two of you have enough water.
      • And also that she’s coated in a sufficient amount of sunblock.
        • I’m not blushing! This is a burn because last time someone didn’t bring sunscreen.”
          • Sure, Rin. Sure.

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General HCs

  • The reckless, immature summoning of Cu Chulainn favors thrills over safety in even the most mundane of activities. If he can make it dangerous, he will.
  • Hates being compared to his older selves. He sees his future self as a failure, knowing that he never wins a proper Holy Grail War and ends up falling to his poor Luck stat in so many timelines. (”Command Spells can bite me. I’ve got shit to do.”)
    • “You’d have to rip my dignity away to get me to kill myself.”
  • Gets along with servants his other selves dislike. The prime example of this is EMIYA, who he respects more than he respects himself-in-ten-years. He thinks he has more in common with EMIYA than his future self.
    • Neutral on issues of good and evil, preferring to do what he feels is right in the moment over decides is logical.
  • Avoids responsibilities, but dedicated to completing any task given to him. He’d rather die than let someone else down. He refuses to acknowledge the irony. 
  • Less afraid of his “Old Lady” but still conflict-avoidant with training under her because what even are responsibilities?

Friendship HCs

  • Loyal to a fault, even when someone treats him like trash. He recognizes being mistreated and prefers to put someone in their place while remaining cordial.
  • Bad at boundaries. Until you tell him exactly what he can and cannot say in front of you, he makes inappropriate comments and acts like a prick without a second thought. 
    • This includes unwanted physical contact. He likes to touch people. It comforts him. But if he’s told to stop, he stops. 
  • Once corrected on his behavior, he tries to make up for it. He outdoes himself while trying to earn forgiveness.
  • If things go wrong, he turns into a puppy. Big eyes and everything. Thinks he can get away with it if he’s cute. 
    • He’s not wrong.
  • If introduced to memes, he becomes an edgy memelord. 
  • Enjoys contemporary music. When he gets his hands on a boombox from the eighties he falls in love with power metal. 
    • He develops a secret soft spot for a copy of John Denver’s Greatest Hits because John Denver’s music calls to his modesty and wanderlust. It started as a meme but stuck.
      • Modesty is not his strong suit, but he can’t listen to that CD without feeling humbled.

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  • At first Mordred thinks you’re kind of a bitch because you’re petrified at the thought of hurting another person. 
    • Commanding someone around would prove how manipulative people have claimed you are and that’s not what you want.
    • Mordred tells you to fuck off and get over it.
  • The two of you bicker about “who has it worse” and realize that it doesn’t matter. You both deserve kindness and respect and a fresh start.
  • With this new information, the two of you reforge your pact on terms that highlight companionship, loyalty, and trust. You both have wishes and hopes and dreams that you crave to make reality and you swear to win through each other.
  • Mordred relates to your familial struggles, identity crises, and existential angst. Neither of you is the person your parents wanted you to be. Neither of you is even the person that you want to be. 
    • But maybe if you’re not pursuing that goal alone it won’t be so fucking terrifying.
  • Your instability means Mordred doesn’t have a reliable source of mana. 
  • They can trigger you (with your consent). Overwhelming emotions lead to a huge surge in power that you pour into them. 
    • Good news: it works, and you go from having almost no mana to being able to fully maintain an A+ rank noble phantasm. 
    • Bad news: it exhausts your body and brain. It doesn’t last for long and can’t sustain, meaning all your battles are feast-or-famine.
  • Your rash decisions tend to do more harm than good. Mordred decides to take up a geis with you. Command Spells can only be used under certain circumstances.
  • “Don’t waste a Command Spell on me unless your life depends on it.”
  • Mordred hates watching you fall apart and knows it takes a huge toll on you. The two of you seek out ways to store magical energy generated during your outbursts. 
    • When you’re enraged, you’re not yourself. You feel like a whole other master.
  • The topic of mana transfers comes up and you’re both mortified. It isn’t off the table, but you’re both too awkward to talk about it for now. 
  • When the time comes, the two of you do participate in the holy ritual of mana transfer via intimacy but it wasn’t with that intention. 
  • After you’ve put your life at risk to protect your servant against another, Mordred feels gratitude that someone has finally come to care for and put full trust in them. And while it starts as a curious, tender experience it transforms into something electric.
  • “Having someone that gets me is pretty cool. Thanks for keeping me around. I’ll never let you down, master.”

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Getting Into It:

  • In what world had you thought pursuing her was a good idea? 
  •  Who wants to fuck a demon lord? 
    • Apparently you do. Excellent. What’s the worst that could happen? She’s pretty and easy to meme, and is lovable in her own way.
  • When you first express your interest to her, you make the mistake of doing it in a public setting.
  • She laughs in your face.
  • After your embarrassment wears off she approaches you and apologizes, stating that relationships are a foreign concept to her. She spent life prioritizing victory and didn’t take time for herself to grow in that space.
  • She wants to learn. With you. And thinks sharing in something truly new will be good for her.

In It:

  • Dates with Nobu are incredible. She puts time and effort into figuring out what new experiences you can share together, what types of adventures you can go on.
    • Backpacking, skydiving, hitchhiking, colonizing minor singularities, rockclimbing, wildlife explorations… She loves the outdoors. It reminds her of the hunt.
    • She loves concerts. Likes them loud and aggressive. Probably went to the last Vans Warped Tour in 2018 and made you dive into mosh pits with her. She wouldn’t crowdsurf or let you, because nobody but her gets to lay their grimy fingers on your cute butt.
  • She threatens Roman into letting her rayshift into unstable singularities and usually brings you with her on her conquests.
  • She brags about her new-found relationship with you to all the other servants at every opportunity. They are sick of it. She doesn’t care.
  • And if they try to tell you, she “warns” them that they should stay quiet. 
    • It’s actually because she’s kind of embarrassed by the whole ordeal. She’s not used to liking other people, much less thinking they’re as great as she is.


  • Her kisses are sloppy at first, because even though she’s never been with anybody she thinks she’s the best. Outwardly she acts like she is the perfect partner but she knows she has a lot to learn.
    • “We must grow together as one, Master.”
  • Over time she warms up to the idea of letting you take the lead on some things, namely the affection.
  • There’s great irony in the fact she likes to ride her partner.
  • The longer you’re together you may wonder if her obsession with newness will drive her into the arms of someone else, but she’s good about pushing that fear away
  • “Master, becoming one turns us from two separate entities into a whole that will exist together. There is nothing that will remain old. It will only grow newer by the day.”

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Getting Into It:

  • This motherf—
  • Under normal Holy Grail War circumstances, a Master and Servant may feel intense emotional pressure from the adrenaline. 
    • This does not happen for Gilgamesh.
  • He develops respect for another over an extended period of time. Admiration or anything beyond that is nigh impossible.
  • It builds from respect and admiration into desire and possession. This is not the healthiest translation of emotions, but each one is part of the foundation for–”Egh… love, I suppose you could call it.”
  • Once he decides he wants something, he gets it. No exceptions. 
    • That includes you.
  • He’ll corner his target when nobody else is around, playing at being a predator, and demand his master’s time. It sounds more ominous than it is. (He likes to play at being scary, but at the end of the day he’d never harm a person he cared for.)
  • You’ve spent so much together that he reads you like scripture. He’d never say it aloud, but he observes everything. 
  • “It appears there is something that belongs to me that is not currently in my possession.”

In It:

  • Lives to spoil. Has to give the best gifts at all times and make the biggest show of his adventures. Good luck ever outdoing him at holidays.
  • Conversation is never dull. Stories throughout history are shared from his ageless lips, and he answers even the most taboo of questions without shame. 
    • Though he is not proud of everything he has done, he makes no secret of the experience he has gained from doing it.
  • Mental sparring is a top tier pastime. He’ll join you for any brain-games and try to drag you into them if you’re intellect-averse.
    • One of the best Chess players in Chaldea.
    • Enjoys Risk. Pretty good at it, aside from the fact that other servants who enjoy the game are obnoxious.
    • A-rank luck and still doesn’t enjoy anything that takes away from his brilliance. Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
  • While he loves talking about himself, he loves listening to a partner read even more. He enjoys mythology and folklore. Books of poetry might be his secret favorite.
    • “I care little for the romance, but I can appreciate that a story cannot always be told in narrative.”
  • While not as wise as his Caster form nor as energetic as his child self, he always puts on a show when you’re around. Peacock man has feathers to fluff.
  • Both of you find each other breathtaking on both physical and intellectual levels, and that feeling will only grow stronger with time as the learning continues.


  • Public displays of affection? More like public displays of possession. 
    • Internal radar that alerts him when another person is about to lay hands on you.
    • With no discrimination for gender or age he will obliterate anyone seeking his treasures. Especially other versions of himself. They should know better and therefore get harsher consequences.
  • Defensive to a fault–will crush anyone that questions you. If he is going to treat you with respect then so should everyone else in the history of forever. The thought of someone else disrespecting you is obscene.
  • Doesn’t like holding hands but he’ll casually put an arm around your shoulders or waist to keep you close.
  • Gives incredible hugs. Close hugs. Arms around the waist, bodies pressed together, foreheads touching, speaking quietly under breath to keep it intimate.
  • Silent but deadly in the bedroom, and prefers his partner making noise. 
    • Has golden chains and silk sashes to play with. Enjoys tying partner up at the wrists and controlling their contortions.
  • Top only.
    • Don’t call him daddy, he’s interacted with Kid Gil and that’s weird.
    • Voyeuristic. The man delights in a show.
  • “No one else will ever see you like this. That sweet look on your face is mine and mine alone. Do I make myself clear? …Good. Ah. Haha. I love you, too.”

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  • Tease². Whether it’s trying to turn a partner on or toy with them, it’s all about the fun that loving another person brings.
    • Very ticklish, but in denial about it despite the fact you can run a finger up his spine and make him quiver.
    • Play wrestling is his favorite. He likes giving you a small lead before flipping you back under him as a quick reminder he’s a god.
  • Classic romantic. A true gentleman. Maybe not 24/7, but as soon as he needs to stop goofing off he flips his hero switch and becomes the man, the myth, the legend.
  • Seeks out Shakespeare for help with cheesy romantic schemes. 
    • Memorizes romantic poetry with the writer’s aid and will recite it in a dramatic fashion.
    • He has stood outside a window and called to you from the ground below. While in Italy. “But soft, what light through yonder Rayshift breaks? ‘tis the East and my love is the sun.”
  • He wants to impress you with more than his skill as a fighter and instead tries to woo you with words and experiences. 
    • This involves extravagant evenings together and a passionate romance–the type that caused wars and led men to throw themselves on their swords. 
  • In ancient Greece, marriage allowed divinity to be passed down. Though marrying outside of culture was frowned upon, Achilles would like to be married someday. He wants it as traditional as possible.
    • Ancient Athens had a woman’s guardian announce his daughter’s eligibility then arrange for men to compete for her hand. The suitor would be chosen by the guardian from the suitors.
    • Achilles is competing against himself to woo you in the presence of your loved ones. He brings gifts, treats your parents like royalty, and sweeps you off your feet all over again.
  • “Hey, baby, just because I’m trying to impress your parents doesn’t mean this is up to them. Your word is good as gold.”

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  • All the myths are true: Karna is humble and lives modestly, never allowing himself to be a burden to others. He is generous and kind, and despite his placid exterior he has the capacity to be quite warm. 
  • He could likely have any partner he wanted, but has never shown interest before now. He sees love as something that is learned. It is coming to an understanding about the significance of another person in life. Love is a process of growth from little choices every day. 
  • No matter how many lifetimes he’s lived or battles he’s fought, you are the first person he’s wanted to protect in selfishness. 
  • Likes to relax and enjoy peace and quiet since he’s not used to it. Being a desirable servant makes him a target for a lot of hard work.
  • He will be so thankful for baked goods and deserts and everything you show him and wait there’s a whole chocolate amusement park? 
    • “What a strange future you’re from. You’d think they worship food more than gods.”
  • Takes the words of his fellow servants at face value and it gets him into sticky wickets. 
    • He’s flat when speaking about romance due to his lack of interest before recently. 
    • Everything from “pop out of a cake naked” to “share sweets among the stars” has been suggested. How dare they do this to a poor innocent boy?
  • An ideal date would involve volunteering together. Homeless shelters, animal adoption centers, and elderly care facilities would be optimal. Anywhere he can be himself. Anywhere he can listen.
  • He has a Noble Phantasm that allows him to see truths, so you’re shit outta luck on ever surprising him.
    • Which is good, because he doesn’t like surprises. They make him feel vulnerable and vulnerability is tough for a guy born with armor that makes him invincible.
  • “I don’t believe I deserve you, Master, but I want to protect and cherish you for all your days. Please forgive my selfishness… What is that look for?”

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Getting Into It:

  • Archer Emiya has a lot in common with his younger self, but enough is different that they don’t seem like the same person.
  • The timeline he comes from is similar to Fate, meaning at one point he was in love with the great King of Knights. But somewhere along the line he failed her, and he is haunted by these memories. Combined with his survivor’s guilt from the Fuyuki fire, the man is wounded.
  • But being damaged does not make him unworthy. As much as the thought of open it up to another person is appalling, he wants to believe that he is wanted. 
  • He’s always derived self concept from the value that others gain from him, and becoming a Counter Guardian only reinforced this horrible idea that the world needs to be on his shoulders.
  • Protecting you as your servant is his first priority, but there’s a nagging familiarity to his feelings. It’s warm. Like ambient lamp light in a dark room, or a cup of tea on a winter night. 
    • “As my master, your safety is my responsibility. I don’t get much a choice in the matter. But hey, if I didn’t like you I wouldn’t cooperate.”
  • That comfort goes both ways. Over time, his fondness for you becomes more clear by his willingness to go out of his way for you, cook for you, and even take care of you when you’re sick.
  • One day you let it slip that you love him in a way that involves no obligation. You want to look after him and be looked after in return. Mutual respect. 
    • You tell him you want to be his right arm. He laughs.
    • “It is more likely that I will be yours, but if you insist I accept your offer. It can’t be any worse than if we transplanted my arm onto you.”

In It:

  • The man loves to do nice things just because. Most of what he does for you are things that were once expected of him, like cooking or cleaning. 
  • But wait, there’s more!
  • He is uncomfortable with being in love again at first, as it’s been eons since he last feels trip, but he enjoys the exhilaration of opening up to a person that won’t leave him.
  • Honest, transparent, and communicative. He asks a lot of questions. Sometimes he asks too many questions, but he loves to learn things. 
  • If you ask him to visit your family he happily will. 
    • And you can’t tell your parents, “This is the reincarnation of a dead guy. He’s an archer that usually uses swords instead.”
    • But you can tell them, “This is my partner and he’s the best cook in Chaldea.”
  • Perfect gentleman. Flowers, holding doors, but never stepping on your independence. 
  • But at the same time making fun of you might be his favorite hobby. 
  • Cozy nights indoors on the couch with your fifty pets and a toasty fireplace sounds like the perfect life to him.
  • Won’t initiate public displays of affection, but will respond positively if you start it. Will not do anything provocative in public though. Very modest.
  • Insomniac. When he sleeps, he has horrible nightmares.
    • Landscapes filled with swords.
    • The sky opening up and pouring black mud over his burning body.
    • Artoria’s corpse withering away to dust in Avalon.
  • Oftentimes he refuses to sleep. He’s a servant and doesn’t need to, but he wishes he could have dreams that didn’t haunt him. You always look so peaceful sleeping. He wonders if he could someday look so beautiful.
  • Little does he know, he already is that beautiful. That’s how you see him late at night with the moonlight creeping through the window. Features glowing, eyelids twitching, and little grumbles and snores?
  • Tell him all about it sometime. The look on his face will be even more precious.

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The Goddess:

  • Whether training or fighting for her life, Arturia gives her all to every fight. Watching a goddess ravage a battlefield is breathtaking, and a sight that few fortunate masters have the opportunity to experience. 
  • In battle the Goddess Rhongomyniad is never stagnant. She and her mount move in complete sync and strike with precision. They fly over the battlefield and cascade the light of judgment to every unworthy foe.
    • “Filth within cannot be washed away as it can on skin.”
  • It pains her to be the one to cast the harsh judgment of a being greater than herself, but she is a vessel for the heavens nonetheless. It is an honor to carry this burden.
    • “This is the punishment for my own transgressions. My word is law, and yet the choice is not mine to make.”
  • While it is horribly inappropriate, you’ve found yourself fantasizing about Arturia doing some pretty raunchy things with Rhongomyniad. 
    • But how could you not dream of such a strong, stoic woman?
    • Her will is unbreakable. Her strength is unmatched. The gentle features of her face have been hardened by war, and yet she is still soft. 
    • Her love of people may show differently in this form, but protecting Camelot is still her dream.

Is Clueless:

  • It strikes you that this Arturia is too much for any mortal to handle. 
  • There’s not a chance in heaven or on Earth that she’s going to care about your feelings. She’s grown beyond human emotions. 
    • Oh, the horror. This is the worst timeline.
  • Pacing back and forth through Chaldea’s halls. Thoughts racing. There has to be something you can do to cease this feeling that pounds in your chest whenever she–

“Master, are you alright?”

Ohgodohgodohgod. Don’t look at her. She will crush your soul into tiny little pieces of justice dust. Dustice.

“You are peaked. Shaking.”

“Am I?” You laugh too loud. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You appear to be unwell, Master. Allow me to escort you to Dr. Roman.”

Arturia reaches for your arm. You flinch out of the way, cringing where she almost touched you. Though she has held you so many times in battle, this is different. This is on your home turf, in a public setting that doesn’t involve you almost dying or fighting but you’re pretty sure you’re still dying please let someone kill you right now.

“No, I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about it. Thank you. All good in the hood. You know. Just a little tired. Blood sugar’s low. Hungry. Nothing major.” You step back. She steps forward. “Oh wow, would you look at the time. Better go get lunch! HaHAHAHahah.” 

Her icy breath is on your face. Though you turned to face the wall, her suffocating gaze remains locked.

You inhale a sharp breath and your voice goes up two octaves. “Gods have no mercy. I am ready to die.”

Arturia tilts her head, bringing her lips to your face. “I am afraid I must insist that you allow me to assist you,” she whispers into your bright red ear. “I realize this may be embarrassing for you, as you are the master of many powerful servants. But there is no shame in asking for help, Master.”

Your heart stops. Her words are crisp and clear and her Ps do a perfect pop that sends goosebumps up your arms. You stumble backwards, incapable of forming a coherent thought, and slump against the wall. Defeat was imminent.

She locks one arm under your legs and the other behind your back despite the whining struggle you put up and the pathetic whimpering of a master possessed. She shakes her head at you as you curl up into her armor. 

“Relax, Master. I will ensure no other servants are aware of your condition. Please trust me to take care of you.”

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Getting Into It:

  • The decision to ask you to be his partner didn’t come about overnight. His admiration started the day you used two Command Spells to try to quell the curse. 
  • You assume it didn’t work because when you look at him you still feel attached to him. You can feel your heart fluttering thinking about the way he fights and how loyal and dedicated he is, and how his spearmanship is graceful and at the end of the day you’re grateful he’s your servant.
    • No, not your servant–your friend.
    • The Command Spells did work. 
  • Respect blossoms into love on both sides. He notices it before you do. 
    • You would never give a command he would feel wrong following. 
    • He will lay his life on the line not because he has to, but because your presence makes his life immeasurably better. 
    • A journey to the end of time is a lot less scary with your most trusted knight and companion at your side.
  • If you had ever introduced him to your parents or the people in your life, he would seek them out and share his intentions with them. Being respectful of you involves being respectful of the people you care about.
  • When he asks you to be his lover, it’s more like he’s swearing fealty to you. He takes a knee and bows his head and all you can do is smile and ask him to rise. 
    • “You call me your equal, Master…? Thank you. On my honor as a knight and your faithful servant, I will never leave your side. I will never let you down.”

In It:

  • You initially expect him to be the best partner on the face of the planet, and you are right. But you’re right for the wrong reasons. 
    • Contrary to what you’d believe about his curse, he’s self-conscious about the consequences that it had in his life and time on the Throne of Heroes. It’s caused him to be skeptical of others’ feelings and untrusting of those who claim to care for him.
    • For this reason he tends to overcompensate for his curse in your relationship. He works far too hard at a love that comes naturally for both of you.
  • “I will prove I deserve your companionship, Master. You say I do not need to, but I believe it is my duty to show you the truth in my words. I refuse to accept a false love. Ah! I did not mean to question your intentions, Master. I mean that–”
  • No point in having feet when he’s just going to sweep you off of them every day. He’s the ideal domestic partner. 
    • Cooks (with the help of EMIYA and Sakura’s many incarnations). 
    • Cleans (if you count making the bed and putting flower petals on it, though that might just be making the mess worse).
    • Assists you with your responsibilities (like he’s trying to be your personal assistant).


  • Takes care of you when you’re sick.
  • Makes you feel loved and desired every day with more than his words. It’s in touches and acts of kindness and little tokens of his appreciation for you.
  • Shared showers are a favorite. Leaning into steaming water and holding your head on his chest, feeling each other’s breaths fall off your shoulders… 
  • In public he’ll try not to embarrass you or make things uncomfortable for others, but if he needs to assert his love for you he doesn’t care where he does it.
  • Excellent lover, but not because of his quantity of experience. As he’s limited himself due to the curse, the experiences he has shared have only been with those he has fallen in love with in return. 
  • While he knows his own desires quite well he will take the time to learn about you and how you like to be loved.
    • Sensual. He’s a switch. 
    • Flexible. Literally and figuratively.
  • Blissfully unaware of how attractive and wonderful he is in your eyes because the curse doesn’t work on you.
    • “I feel like I am in the grass looking up to your love, but you assure me we stand together staring at the stars. I trust you.”

Chapter Text

  • Ireland’s Child of Light has spent a lot of time preparing for this. 
  • From the first time he fought beside you, and then fought for you in the contaminated Fuyuki Holy Grail War, he knew he had met a master worth more than their Command Seals. 
  • There’s a warmth about you that sings to him. It doesn’t roar like a fire or squeal like a sparkler, but it hums a tune that only he can hear. Like a lullaby, it relaxes his spirit origin and eases his worries.
  • He teases you all the time. There are flirtations and small acts of kindness he drops to let you know he cares, but he wants more. 
  • Very hard to ask for more when hundreds of other thirsty servants are sharing a Chaldea with you.
  • Dr. Roman was persuaded to sending the two of you to an unknown singularity without any other servants or backup planned.
    • Out of character, but when a Noble Phantasm that reminds you of your hard partying days at Burning Man is shoved in your face it’s hard to say no.
  • Cu tosses an arm around you and drags you along like he has countless times before.
    • “Master, come here for a minute. There’s something I wanna show you… I haven’t steered you wrong yet, have I?”


Treetops touch the sky. Crystal waters ripple with the breeze. Dewdrops dust the grass. Warm sunlight reflects in the earth and your eyes. Creatures of all shapes and sizes exist here, living in harmony. You lie beneath the same canopy and breathe the same air. Your back shares a tree with Cu Chulainn.

“How do you know this place? It’s so beautiful,” you say.

He shrugs. “Stuff like this doesn’t last. It’s pretty and all but we don’t get to keep it. It moves in a way that we don’t.”

You nod. “Heroic Spirits are trapped in time. I imagine watching things change and grow makes you wish you could, too.”

He rolls over onto his knees before you, looking down at your face. His shadow is outlined by the sun’s glare on his back. His braids cascade over his shoulders and brush your cheeks.

“I wasn’t talking about Heroic Spirits, but I agree. I meant we as in people. Like you and me and the other me and the other me.” He snorts. You feel it on your lips. “But, you know, being by your side always changes. Some days I’m your mentor, other days I learn from you. Which never seems possible. I’m dead and you’re… my master.”

Your heart pounds in your ears. He touches his forehead to yours and stares.

“Master, I will always fight by your side, but I want to lay by it, too. I want to see you turn red like you are now. I’ll show you places and you’ll show me what it’s like to be alive. We can even go to where you’re from and tell your friends you’re under the spell of the tall, strong, charming, handsome Irish Hercules… Sort-of.”

You both laugh. You give him the dumbest grin in your arsenal and grip his coat by the fur of his hood. You tap your nose to his before he gets the hint. 

“You’re sending mixed signals,” he groans.

“No, no! I’m not. I promise. I’m just wondering how to tell my family I’ve been wooed by a demigod from the olden days of yore!”

He leans backwards, tugging you with him as he does. “Nobody’s going to believe you. Even if they were, I’m the Caster here. I’m totally fine with wiping your entire family’s memory.”

“Sorry, mom, he needs the cane because he’s a few thousand years old. My lover is an ooooold maaaaan.”

He grins. Lover. I could get used to that. 

He cups your face in his hands and pulls your lips to his…

Chapter Text

Getting Into It:

  • This very good boye knows what he likes and it involves being a big goofball and making fun of people he likes. 
  • He’s loyal from his summoning onward, acting as the guard dog he trained to be.
  • When he was your age, he was training under Scathach. She was way scarier than he is. So why are you so much more difficult with him?
    • “Every living thing has a weak point. That’s what I’m here for. Let me take care of it. It’s not like I have a spear that never misses or anything.”
  • Your stubborn desire to be able to defend yourself is admirable, but he makes fun of you about it non-stop, forever. It can come off as cruel, as he reminds you that you’ll never be stronger than the servants you’ll face. 
    • He feels guilty about this and offers hugs and lessons as an apology. But he can’t teach you if you’re going to stand with your back to him like that.
  • He assumes that you already know he cares about you in a way deeper than the servant/master relationship. 
  • He never outright asks if you return his affection. Going with the flow is easier and tells him far more than words would.

In It:

  • Despite being short-tempered and having many buttons to press, he doesn’t like to argue and tends to be agreeable. 
    • “We’re on the same side, aren’t we?”
  • A proud man, he likes to be your cheerleader as long as you cheer him on in return. Preferably in a cute little outfit that barely hides your butt.
  • Having dated many women in his life, he’s a connoisseur of the best parts of relationships. Dating is fun. He refuses to lose that part of companionship just because you two have singularities to repair.
    • Potential dates include but are not limited to: hunting, fishing, hiking, sexual escapades, visiting animal shelters, adopting fifty dogs, purchasing a large plot of land, building a fence, and letting all your good boys (including Cu) run free.
  • Can’t tell if he loves or hates being called a “good boy” and receiving pets. It feels like chastising, but he knows you do it to be funny and not to insult him. 
  • Protective. Loyal. Dedicated. Even if he makes a promise that seems impossible, he will find a way to make it reality if it means keeping his word.
  • Remind him that you’re proud of him and appreciate his companionship. It’s fitting, and a little embarrassing, that he’s a great best friend.
  • Call him your best friend or partner instead of just lover or boyfriend. As much as he likes those titles, he wants to feel like his bond goes deeper than something physical. He’s had enough of that in the however-long he’s been around.


  • Physical contact is #1. It doesn’t always have to be intimate, but little things like an arm around the shoulder or touching his face make him feel loved.
  • Pretends he doesn’t like pets, but loves when you play with his hair.
  • Chill. Will never pressure you into anything. If you don’t feel like being physical, he won’t bug you about it. But that won’t stop him from teasing you as per usual.
  • Will make a public show of his feelings for you if it means it’ll embarrass you and your face will turn that cute shade of red he likes.
    • But he also likes to send sly grins across the room and wink when you’re not expecting it.
    • But he also won’t ruin a serious moment with his antics. Good at reading a room.
  • The best hugs. He’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders and pull your face into his chest and bury his nose in your hair.
  • Goofy kisses, sticky kisses, predatory hungry kisses.
    • “No point in hiding your face. Nothing will hide you from my love. You cannot escape, Master!”

Chapter Text

  • Your pet snake is 15 feet long and thinks that it’s sneaky. It likes attention and food and for being difficult to care for it’s pretty cute. 
    • Gilgamesh would say that you and this snake have a lot in common.
  • Snakes were revered as deities in Babylonia. They represented immortality, eternal beauty through shedding its old skin and emerging fresh again.
  • Back when he ruled, Gil was quite fond of snakes. Swirling insignias were hidden in the architecture and craftsmanship of his kingdom.
  • It’s disrespectful that serpents have fallen so far from grace that their keepers now put sweaters and hats on them.
  • Hates the term “snek” with a passion.
  • Confiscates any clothing or accessories that were intended for the slitherboi.
  • Even takes the whole snake when he sees you try to be cute with it. 
  • While it is endearing, the naiveté of mortals today is a nuisance more than anything else. He feels the need to educate you and everyone that likes your snake on the historical implications and cultural significance of serpents.
  • “Religions surrounding these magnificent creatures existed around the world. It’s demeaning to force ridiculous accessories on them… No, I will not wear them! Do not forget who you are talking to!”

Chapter Text

  • Nihilism is interesting. The way it affects the executioner’s approach to interpersonal relationships can seem sad, but also empowering.
  • Rare is the person that is so at-peace with their own mortality and the indifference of the universe.
  • He sees himself as neither brave nor stupid for developing romantic feelings toward his master. He just is. 
  • Prefers not to be rejected but is conscious of the possibility.
  • Though he grew up in a wealthy, noble family, he’s self-conscious about his role of executioner now. Bearing an “assassin” title makes his life’s work feel filthy, and he fears that may be how his master sees him as well.
    • His family was able to provide for the poor and perform civil service for generations, but still the only thing others see him as is a killer. 
  • He’s often treated around Chaldea as though he has no discernment between right and wrong, but it’s quite the opposite. 
    • Seeing evil overtake pure humanity hurts him, and knowing that he was only remembered for the lives he took breaks his heart. 
  • His master sees all of that.
    • Anguish. Confusion. Remorse. 
    • Duty. Pride. Responsibility.
  • More than anything else, he feels gratitude toward his master for their patience and understanding with him. You’ve spent quality time together learning about one another and sharing in your hopes and dreams, and you treat him as a man and not a killer. He feels human again. 

“Once upon a time I didn’t really care for you, Master. Being summoned as an assassin leaves me jaded. It’s degrading to my family. I wanted to say thank you. For taking the time to listen to me and respect my family’s work. Thoughts of executions don’t make me feel the same anymore. I feel more thinking about our time together and how good you’ve been to me. 

“I appreciate you, Master. No, I love you. I am grateful for you and all you do for me. I will accompany you no matter how far you go. I will wield this blade for you. You need not feel the same, but please know my word is clean and my heart is yours.”

Chapter Text


  • With Chiron you’re trying to break the master/pupil mold, not the master/servant mold.
  • Chiron is the son of Kronos, the leader of the first generation of Titans of Greek legends. 
    • His father looked down on him and his mother turned herself into a tree so she wouldn’t have to care for her centaur son.
    • Compared to everyone else in his legends, Chiron’s name is one heard infrequently in spite of his accomplishments.
      • His siblings are Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Hades, Hestia, and Demeter. 
      • Examples of heroes trained by Chiron include Heracles, Ajax, Phoenix, Peleus, Perseus, and of course Achilles.
    • He never wonders how his life could have turned out differently, instead accepting what has happened as what will be. And that same mentality has in turn applied to all aspects of his life. 
  • It is important to realize these truths about Chiron before trying to understand the way he approaches romance. It will not be him that initiates a romantic relationship. It hadn’t crossed his mind much before his master brought it up.
    • He removes much of his individual manhood from his self-concept, preferring to act as a sage and mentor to others. By sacrificing his self, he has been able to nurture men into heroes and legends.
    • “My own desires? I can think of no greater joy than the success of those around me.”


  • Suppose that you do get through to him, and he finds himself comfortable enough to fall into love with another. He is a perfect gentleman and a tender soul.
  • His first priority is to ensure that his beloved lives a warm, fulfilling life. 
  • Will answer every question you ever ask to the best of his ability. If he does not know the answer he will find it.
  • Would shoot down the very stars for you. And you are well aware that’s in the realm of possibility for him.
  • He is as beautiful as he is wise, but his most mystifying trait is his boundless modesty.
    • He is thankful for you but will not boast. 
    • He is appreciative of you but will not take advantage of you.
    • He is gentle but never doting.
  • Physicality will have to be initiated by you, or at the very least requested directly. As this is a strange new dynamic, he is unsure of what he is and is not allowed to do. 
    • His lawful, respectful nature will never allow him to risk overstepping his bounds.
    • Even in the most heated of moments where the throes of passion would overtake him, he still somehow maintains a cool head and never lets primal urges get the better of him. 
  • Once adjusted to it, he finds himself quite enjoying the romance. It’s a new learning experience that he’d previously only read of. 

“While this is not what I would have called ideal in the past, it is a wonderful change. To learn alongside someone after guiding so many others to greatness is an honor I never thought I’d have. I wish I had my immortality so my parents could see this, too.

“Truthfully, I do not hold a grudge toward their rejection. So long as it was what they believed to be right, I am accepting of their decisions. If it is what brought me to you, I consider freedom from my family a gift.”

Chapter Text

  • Having been married before, he already knows how this goes. 
  • There isn’t anything out of range for the perfectionist archer. There is nobody more careful in their pursuits than Arjuna, and it shows in the lengths he goes to to ensure your satisfaction with him.
  • Always the gentleman, he attends to you not unlike a butler. Having been a perfect prince from cradle to grave, he knows how royalty deserves to be treated and demands that you accept no less than the best.
  • Quiet speaks volumes with him. He isn’t one for conversation. Opening up isn’t on his itinerary, but he’s not opposed to it.
    • By default he chooses to trust in his master and views them as his partner. His master’s willingness to accept his darkness is preferred, though knowing they are aware of it may make him feel more ashamed. 
    • Someone else accepting Krishna sounds nice, like it will relieve an amount of worry. All it really does is push him further to keep it at bay.
  • If he can avoid showing pitiful emotions like envy and desperation he will. Not even his partner should see him in such a pitiful state.
    • Do not feel bad for him. It only makes him feel worse.
  • He wants his lover to be proud of him, as he’s well aware of how different he is compared to his lifetime. As a Heroic Spirit he is still an egomaniac, but he’s quiet about it. 
  • For those reasons, if you reject his advances or acknowledge his efforts as lacking, he will be stunned. He’ll be uncomfortable, and it will be obvious. It won’t ruin his life if you knock him off his pedestal, but it’ll certainly surprise him. 
    • A potential way to do this is by performing acts of service to be of assistance to him and claim you would rather be the person to aid him. This will be both kind and a slap in the face. 
    • Being as dutiful as he is it seems unreal that anyone in their right mind would prevent him from doing what he does best (which is everything).
  • Subtle with affection. Gentle touches. Soft voices. 
    • Unless Krishna gets the best of him, in which case he is possessive and cruel. The domineering side isn’t something he likes, and encouraging it will hurt his feelings.

Chapter Text

  • The biggest problem with trying to pursue Brynhildr romantically is the nagging awareness that she still loves Sigurd and would throw her life away to have him back.
    • She suffered as a Valkyrie, where her own father took away her divinity as punishment.
    • She suffered watching her love be taken away, as he lost his memories and took the hand of another.
    • She suffered being forced to wed another man that couldn’t even win her on his own merit.
    • She suffered so much that she killed her love and took her own life to be with him.
  • There is only so much suffering an individual can handle before cracking under the weight of it all. Brynhildr as a Heroic Spirit is cracked.
  • The thought of loving another person makes her ill. Her Noble Phantasm is doomed to steal love away from her. She’s destined to kill whomever she loves. How is she to maintain happiness knowing that she will be the one to end it?
  • Unfortunately she’ll react poorly to anything that reminds her of Sigurd. This includes battle. And kindness. And affection. 
  • If you can coax her out of her hollow shell, you’ll find a dedicated woman willing to fight for righteousness no matter what. She will act as a loyal servant and partner to the end. 
  • If she settles into the idea of loving someone and decides to act upon it, she devotes herself to goodness and the happiness of her beloved. 
  • Her form as a Heroic Spirit is cursed by the tormented feelings at her death. It will be slow, but not impossible, to ease her into the idea of loving another in addition to Sigurd. 
    • She will come to like the idea a lot at a conceptual level but not want to put her positive feelings into action.
    • “It sounds lovely… Such pretty dreams… I want to believe you. You are so kind. You remind me of… Ah, no. Forgive me. I need to think. I will return to you, Master.” 
  • There isn’t really a better way she can show her care than by nearly killing you while overtaken by her curse then fighting herself to prevent your death. And by failing to kill you she fails her task as a Heroic Spirit, and she faces even more inner turmoil. 
  • Expect outbursts of negative emotion to come often and out of nowhere, as they will be triggered by little things that tug at a part of her she tries to suffocate with emptiness and regret.

Chapter Text

  • Cu Alter lacks the vibrant charm that other Cu-sonas show.
    • In place of his morality, he sees only power.
    • His sense of humor almost exists but it is cruel.
    • He is a machine built for battle. There is no other purpose.
    • Even close friends can be enemies if it is willed by his bloodlust.
  • This Cu follows a master’s orders better than his counterparts, which is unusual for a Berserker. With his sense of righteousness gone, there’s no reason to not follow every absurd order his master gives.
    • Not that he wants to, nor does he give a shit what you have to say. It’s more convenient for him to listen to the person with effectively-infinite Command Spells.
    • Though he could resist being compelled by orders with and without Command Spells, he chooses to follow them because it keeps his master off his back.
  • If you could leave him alone, that would be great. He’s not into the whole “cute affectionate lovey dovey feelings” thing and it’s aggravating him. 
    • Dude has a tail with thorns and you’re disturbing him. Seriously, cut the shit. He’s aware you’re flirting with him on the regular and doesn’t care.


“Cute,” he said. “Don’t make me sick.”

You grabbed his arm and glared at his scarred face. “What position are you in to disobey my orders?” 

He snarled. “I am the first to follow even your dumbest orders. Excuse me for doing my job by protecting you from your own stupidity for a change.”

Your Command Seals began to glow a violent red. Cu Chulainn’s face spread into a filthy grin. 

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Come on, Master. I exist solely to serve you in battle. Not in bed.”

“And mana transfer can only make you stronger, correct?”

He cackled. “It’s not happening.”

In a fit of defiance, you leered into his fiery gaze. If he could obey every other demand you made as his master, why would he deny the one that mattered to you? Why didn’t he want you? You had to have him. Your fascination burned from dawn to dusk. It was charring your insides to be around him and not have your curiosity sated. 

If he killed you because of this it would be your fault. You deserved it. 

By the power of my Command Seal… 

His wicked expression curled into one of amusement. “How precious.”

I order you, Cu Chulainn… T ake me.

Your Command Seal sparked and faded away. Your servant froze. The magic washed over him and compelled him toward you. Despite your power pulling him forward, he snatched his arm away. 

“It’s almost endearing how stupid you are,” he spat. He forced a step back. His legs quivered in resistance. “Pathetic impulses make you unfit to be a master.”

Your heart sank. It didn’t work? 

“Your conviction was strong but your direction was weak.”


“Lucky for you a good predator doesn’t pass up a shot at devouring naive prey.”

Without warning your body was slammed into the wall and pinned by Cu Chulainn’s tail. He planted rows of thorns around your body to prevent you from moving.

Gritted teeth. A breath hissed between them to stifle the pain of thorns wrapping around your body. Sharp teeth scraped the skin of your neck.

“Remember, Master. You asked for this.”

Chapter Text


Your sleep is plagued by recurring nightmares of an endless desert. Your garb covers your body, but your still skin burns. You cannot see past the thick walls of sand. There is no civilization, no structures, just an ocean of sticky sand clinging to your clothes.

And in the distance, a lone figure: a spindly shadow stretched for miles. Its form stretches toward you, reaching as a hand to hold. You cower away. Its musical voice carries on the wind. “Please do not be afraid.”

Are these the dreams of your dear servant, the King of Kings? Are they his memories? You cannot be sure.

You jolt awake coated in sweat and tears to Dr. Roman throwing open your bedroom door. “Sorry to wake you, but you need to be at the summoning platform right now. I’m getting readings of a spirit trying to take form without being properly summoned.”

You dash after the doctor and follow him to the summoning platform. You make eye-contact with the identification system and the steel doors slide open. 

Ozymandias is already there, staring down the foreign spirit. You rush to his side and fall just short of him when you realize who has appeared.

Big brown eyes rise to meet yours. A warm smile greets you, and yet you feel sick. You recognize this face from Rider’s memories.

“Hello, Master of Chaldea,” she chimes. “I am Nefertari.”

The first wife of your current lover. The Egyptian queen who was loved by the gods and the earth. Though she appears more innocent than you imagined, she is every bit as breathtaking as he remembers her.

Sickness takes over. Your organs drop and breath catches in your throat. You back away from the scene in horror. You force your way out of the summoning platform, never interrupted by Ozymandias. It is worse than you imagined.

Ozymandias grins from ear to ear and approaches the foggy form of Nefertari. She is blurry, but has enough a form to be held in his arms. He buries his nose into her hair and inhales. He releases a breath he has been holding since her death.

“Beloved, I am so thankful to see you.”

“And I you,” she says, hugging him back. 

He pulls his head away and looks down at her smiling face. He squeezes her shoulders, pets her hair… She’s real, if only for a moment. The heavens have blessed him.“What has brought you here? You are not a Heroic Spirit. While I find you divine you are not that either.” 

“I was beckoned here by your master.”

“My master? How can that be?”

“They think of me quite often. I feel their envy and fear and admiration… I have been with them since you became part of them.”

Ozymandias pales. “I… am a man. A Pharaoh. Who seeks the world as he desires it,” he mutters.

Nefertari laughs. “It is like you to spread your body and heart so thin, my love.”

“Oh but you should see the greatness I have achieved in this era, my queen!” he howls. “I have rebuilt the pyramids, developed civilizations, fought against demons from across space and time! I have shared a table with legends and myths and ensured my name stayed among the greats. If you would believe it, I have even been beheaded by the Old Man of the Mountain and repaired by Pharaoh Nitocris. I thought nothing could be greater than the civilization we built, and somehow I still find new things on every horizon.”

She tilts her head in understanding, reaching for his hands. She brings them to her lips and kisses his knuckles. “I am proud of you, Rameses. I would expect nothing less.”

“Tell everyone in our era of my exploits, will you?” he pleads.

“Of course. I will share your stories with even the heavens. But in exchange I need something from you.”

“Anything in the universe you desire will be yours.” He touches her face. His fingers slip through her skin as she begins to fade. His stomach turns. 

She coughs. “Your master is afraid. Too young to have the weight of the universe on their shoulders like this. To carry these burdens alone is a curse. We have seen suffering and fought against it, so please… Protect them the way that only a Pharaoh can. I can only ease so much of their worries when they are threatened by me.”

He tries to hold onto her, but her form is disappearing before his eyes. She becomes more translucent. His lips quiver. “As they should be. Beholding you is humbling, even for me, even with the millennia passed.”

The young woman closes her eyes and smiles. “Even so… I apologize I could not be here with you longer. Please forgive me. I was held in place by powerful magical energy from your master’s subconscious.”

Ozymandias casts his gaze aside. “I see. They think that much of you.”

Nefertari’s vanishing form brushes her fingertips over his cheeks. “They are still mortal, experiencing love and wonder for the first time. They need someone to share with and experience with. The heart you shared with me, and with your children and partners and people who followed behind you… Share it with your master as you have been. You are doing magnificent work that only you are capable of.”

He nods in agreement. “I shall. Know that no matter the distance in time I will always cherish you and our life together,” he whispers, leaning into her cold touch. “You are always first.”

“Should you ever retire from the Throne of Heroes, you know where I will be waiting for you.” Nefertari’s spirit stretches up on her toes and kisses her lord’s forehead. She presses her nose to his. 

He lifts his hands to hold her close, but she is already gone. He chokes back the desperation in his throat and touches his forehead. The skin is dry. His palms are cool. His cheeks are wet. 

After staring at the empty summoning platform until the tears dry to his face, he shuffles to the metal doors. Before he steps out, the voice whispers to him one last time.

You need someone, too.

Chapter Text

Her eyes grazed over the tattered flags fluttering at the gates to the Holy City. This was Camelot, but it was not her home. 

Wrapped in a burlap sack to mask her identity, she watched from the sidelines with her comrades as the supposed “selection ceremony” began. At the front of the crowd stood Gawain, her loyalest knight. He was surrounded by soldiers in heavy armor. Artoria poked her head around the crowd to better see him. He glistened in the sun. As expected.

With a single command the soldiers flanked the crowd of innocent people seeking refuge in the Holy City. Spears drove them into a herd. What was the purpose of this? 

The light of judgment cast down from the sky to the civilians. Their cries shattered her eardrums. Their shrieks tore her insides to shreds. She reached for Excalibur and summoned the light of the holy sword to redirect the glowing beam from above. 

With support from her master and a mysterious silver-haired servant, the soldiers were fended off. Artoria’s direction pushed the civilians toward the refuges set up by the Hassans. It would be extensive travel for the people, but they would be safe. 

The nights preparing to storm the Holy City were quiet. She spoke little and listened even less. To think that a king would eliminate their people, that they would choose who lives and dies as though it is their right to decide… Her stomach turned at the thought. 

The greater horror than the thought of that king, was the realization she was that king. She built a small memorial in homage to her fellows that sacrificed their life to stand up to the Lion King’s twisted morality. She wept alone in the dead of night.


  • Bedivere using a false name does not prevent Artoria from recognizing her oldest friend. Their friendship picks up as though they had always been together. 
    • “The Lion King is what becomes of me if you do not return Excalibur to Avalon? …I see. Then I am thankful you have, Sir Bedivere. You are a most trustworthy knight.”
    • Bedivere is mortified by this and rambles about how he is nothing special. Artoria enjoys the familiarity of his reaction.
  • Gareth threw herself onto a spear before Artoria’s eyes in self-disgust during the Knights’ battle against the False Crusaders. This is the first instance of “human understanding” that Artoria empathizes with.
    • “If this is the frustration you all viewed me with… I understand now.”
  • Tristan notes his opponent’s ability to deflect his arrows but never realizes he’s dueling Artoria. He senses powerful magical energy that feels familiar, but deems it unimportant. When the Hassans come to take over, Tristan compliments his opponent’s resolve.
    • “Thank you, Sir Tristan. It is an honor to have such a capable bowman as a knight of the round table. I wish your heart the ease I could never provide.”
    • As he fades, Tristan concludes that only his king would would have said such things to him, but the king learned too late. Oh the irony.
  • Gawain faces Artoria thrice during Camelot and each time his confidence wavers further. Her brilliance in battle and strength of heart remind him why he pledged himself to Camelot. He apologizes for failing his duty and asks for forgiveness, followed by asking if he may serve her in the future. 
    • “While you may have failed the king you serve, you have not failed me, nor have you failed Camelot. Your loyalty remains true to the end. There will always be a place at the round table for you.”
    • Gawain fades away content. He couldn’t ask for a better outcome. 
  • Agravain is still an excellent secretary to the king, though Artoria dislikes him a significant amount in this form. He was already cold, but here he is a monster with no regard for human life. He is appalled by the sight of her and calls her a “False King.” She doesn’t care.
    • “As my advisor I expected better of you than to follow my every command without question. This act is akin to treason with how you have damned all of Camelot!”
    • Agravain attacks the False King and she slices through him in a single clean strike.
  • Mordred smells Artoria a mile away and hunts her down to battle one-on-one, claiming that there is no place for False Kings. Artoria expresses the irony in this, as Mordred resulted in the downfall of Camelot while trying to become king in her timeline. Mordred is unsurprised to hear of their exploits in other timelines and challenges Artoria to battle.
    • “If you still think yourself worthy of ruling Camelot, you will fight by my side against the False King. Once humanity is restored you may fight to take the throne from me. Until then, you are nothing more than a liability to both sides.”
    • After a brief skirmish the knight of treachery aligns with your forces, citing their king’s demonstrated lack of human morality. This causes a pang of guilt in Artoria, but she brushes it off. That is what a king must do for their people.
  • Lancelot and Artoria can tell each other’s energies from a distance from their lifetimes spent close and meetings in other timelines. If he is able to meet her, he never fights against Chaldea and instead aligns with them from the start. He apologizes to her for not encouraging her humanity enough, for ruining the knights of the round table, and for betraying her Lion King-self to side with her King Arthur-self.
    • “You are my most worthy knight and friend, Lancelot. You are always welcome at my side.”
    • He explains his feelings that he should be a Berserker because of his transgressions and insanity. Artoria offers him comfort. 
    • “I may not be the king you wished me to be, but I was always the king I believed Camelot needed. If this is the consequence of that belief then so be it.”
    • He finds this far more forgivable. The thought brings him peace.
  • The Lion King conflicts Artoria. When they meet eye-to-eye, they can see each other’s ideals and faults and dreams. As the Lion King is possessed by the power of the holy lance, she still pursues Artoria’s death and the end of human civilization on earth. T
    • he battle favors the Lion King heavily, and it feels as though the fight lasts an eternity. It is easier with Excalibur and Bedivere’s Silver Arm, but it is still a struggle that nobody comes out of clean. 
    • The battle reveals the human, emotive side of Artoria as she is forced to face the hard truth about many of her beliefs. She must overcome her status as king to fight as a person with their own dreams and destiny.


“False King,” the Lion King called, “Can you not see that we are fighting for the same dream? You have sworn to be all the good in the world and yet you fight me.”

Artoria gripped Excalibur’s hilt. She narrowed her eyes. “As long as Camelot stands I will defend the principles it was founded on. I will protect humanity with my life, and the lives of those who have died trying to stop you.”

The Lion King reached for her spear. “The salvation of humanity will not come by allowing it to run rampant as it has. Filth must be washed away.” She extended the Tower at the End of the World. “I apologize.”

“I will never forgive you,” Artoria promised. She cast her cloak aside and released the coating invisible air on Excalibur. The blade gleamed in the light of judgment. “Come, Lion King. Let us determine who the False King is.”

Chapter Text

  • Real hard to know what Irish song he’s humming when his legends take place centuries before the first record of Irish folk music, which dates back less than 300 years like tons of other western traditional music.
  • He hummed that tune often enough that you could whistle along without ever knowing the song or the words or any part other than that snippet he enjoyed.
  • You couldn’t pinpoint the song because it wasn’t an Irish traditional song in the first place. He wasn’t even alive yet. His legend is said to take place anywhere from the 2nd to 4th centuries, so you had to think harder.
  • It was a religious song. Dammit. How could you have been so silly?
    • Ireland has been Protestant almost its entire existence.
    • The song sounded ominous enough so you could buy into it being a hymn or something.
  • In your research you learned that the earliest music from Abrahamic sects frowned upon the use of instruments in performance. 
  • This felt dissatisfying to you, because you knew Diarmuid loved listening to music. Especially music that reminded him of home.
  • When he caught you playing the song on piano the first time, it occurred to him how unfamiliar it sounded. 
    • You’d taken creative liberty with it, as you didn’t know the original. 
    • He liked your version better.
  • He joins you on the piano bench and sheepishly tries to remember the words. 
    • “I am ashamed of myself, Master. Your playing is beautiful and I cannot properly accompany it.”

Chapter Text

  • As much as the wise king looks forward to time with you, these circumstances are suboptimal. 
    • He is near you, but you are not awake to appreciate it.
    • He’s planned wonders for the two of you, but you’ve been far too drained to do anything.
    • How is he supposed to amaze you if you are dead to the world?
    • He’s bored. Hardcore bored. And his master’s horrible schedule isn’t helping.
  • Watching his master exhaust themselves is painful. He remembers the troubles he went through in the early days of Babylon. 
  • And oh goodness, his quest for immortality. Those were not the days. He does not look back on them fondly and canonically never wants to die from overworking again. 
    • He didn’t achieve immortality, after all.
    • He didn’t die of overworking either, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
  • That’s probably what upsets him the most–he’s paired with a master that pushes themselves to their limits and leaves no room for the finer things in life that make it worth living. 
  • It doesn’t make him respect his master any less, because he already felt neutral toward them at best. He may be disappointed in their self-care choices but those shouldn’t matter so long as they can supply him mana.
  • Watching his master spend countless hours curled up at a desk only to fall on the floor in their sleep can only entertain him so many times.
  • And every time, no matter how unamused he is by it now, he picks his master’s unconscious body up off the floor. He lies them in their bed and tucks their shivering shoulders under a blanket. 
  • He’ll stare at his master’s face and ponder if this ridiculous dynamic is part of what gives heroic spirits purpose.

Chapter Text

  • Arthur’s Master has gotten hurt as a result of using their magecraft to attempt preventing a powerful blow from the enemy Caster-class servant. 
    • Unable to dissolve the spell, you make the call to redirect it somehow. You throw a spell of your own to combat Caster’s blow, attempting to prevent it from hitting Arthur while he’s fending off another servant.
    • You aren’t the best mage in the bunch, and aren’t good enough to throw out a large shield. Instead you dive into the line of fire, absorbing the blow with your entire body.
  • Arthur feels your mana spike, then dissolve. He disarms the opposing servant and rushes to your aid.
  • You have some sort of nerve to trouble this young man. This isn’t his first Holy Grail War. He’s had masters stronger than you try to pull similar stunts and fail, resulting in their death. 
    • He’s also had masters far worse than you. He’s had masters try to throw him away, manipulate him, use him for evil… 
  • As frustrated as he is at your reckless choice, he is appreciative that you see him as worthy of your protection. 
  • But he is panicking right now staring at your body limp in his arms and he’s unable to help you because he’s a servant and why do people pick the worst moments to forget their mortality?
    • While he didn’t take the brunt of Caster’s spell, it’s like you completely forgot he’s a servant and has high Magic Resistance. He’s wounded inside.
  • Does using mana for healing work in reverse? He has an amount of his own, and some that you’ve used to sustain him. Maybe if he goes into spirit form a while you’ll feel better.
    • No, Arthur, that’s stupid. 
    • Maybe not entirely.
    • There have to be mages you can take them to, right?
  • He blames himself for not staying closer to you. Or maybe being too close is the problem. He’s torn at the moment.
  • Carries you in his arms to your command center where he calls upon your fellow mages to aid you. They look upon him with disapproval for allowing his master to take such a damaging hit from an enemy servant.
  • Arthur says nothing but thanks them for taking care of you. He goes into spirit form until you get better.

Chapter Text

Ozymandias Romance with Male Master

  • Is it offensive for a 21st century gay boy to want an Egyptian pharaoh to fuck the shit out of him? You do some research to find out.
    • There are only a “handful of direct hints” remaining about the representation of homosexuality in ancient Egypt, that are “vague and offer plenty of room for speculation.” 
    • Why are all the remaining texts so full of Shakespearian-style Egyptian language? None of this shit makes any sense.
    • But ancient Egyptians did live sexually liberated lifestyles and were the masters of debauchery. Men probably messed with other men.
  • Chaldea hosts many old guys that are able to offer their wisdom. You ask a couple of Chaldea’s kings their opinion on whether or not it’s okay for a young commoner man to want romance with their king.
    • Iskandar: “The heart is stronger than the rest of the body.”
    • Caesar: “I’ve bed many a beautiful boy. Delicate specimens.”
    • Vlad III: “You choose what you want and defend it with your life.”
    • Darius III: “RAAAOOOOARRRR.”
    • David: “God loves all men, and we were created in his image.”
  • This was a fruitless effort. But lo and behold the great Gilgamesh Archer and Gilgamesh Caster come into your conversation bickering over how they want to phrase their wisdom. 
    • “A king decides on their own who is worthy of their affections regardless of sex. It is not up to the commoner.”
    • You ask what the case is if that king has past lovers.
    • “If those lovers are unable to be summoned or join the king now, then they are without consort. They are nothing more than history.”
  • With this newfound knowledge you are more comfortable approaching the pharaoh, though you can’t be certain how he’ll react. 
    • Ozymandias has a tendency to be… dramatic. Unpredictable. Dangerous. A threat to himself and others. 
    • More of a threat to others than himself.

You approach the King of Kings’s personal quarters and shove aside the limestone slab he calls a door (but is really just remnants from his pyramids). Upon stepping inside the slab shifts back on its own. Ominous.

His sanctuary is set up as a king’s bed standing in the middle of a desert oasis. Flowers bloom along the bank of a small river where little fish skitter at your approach. Cat tails line the immaculate tiling. Embellishments mimicking a throne room are detailed throughout the servant’s living space.

Underneath the sheer canopy covering the regal bed lies Ozymandias flipping through a book. He casts a surprised glance up at your entry. “I was not expecting visitors today, Master. Have you come to worship me?”

You gulp. Stand your ground. You’ve got this. “Something like that, actually. May I come in?”

“You ask my permission after entering my domain and assume I will grant it.” He shuts his book and pats the spot beside him on his bed. “I give you the honor of joining me.” You push back the golden canopy and sit beside the pharaoh. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

It is then you realize you don’t have anything prepared to say to the greatest pharaoh of the New Kingdom of Egypt whose brother parted the Red Sea and whose first born was lost to a plague because he pissed off God. Good start, Master.

The discomfort shows as you stop to think. Ozymandias nods in understanding without you speaking. “I see. That would be troubling for one such as yourself.”

Did he just read your mind? 

“I would be appalled if you weren’t taken by my presence. A pharaoh such as myself that is born of the sun itself deserves a world of worship.” He sits up and leans toward you, grinning. “I do find you intriguing, though I cannot pinpoint why. I find myself pleased by your face and enjoying your company.” 

You open your mouth to clarify your situation. He presses his finger to your lips. “Do not interrupt me, mage. If you wish to be wooed by me, I will not deny you. You will be swept away. But there are conditions for this that must be met.”

This is going better than expected. You nod with enthusiasm. 

“You will acknowledge that I am your ideal ruler. You will remain responsible for providing me with mana and instruction for battle. You will worship me with the fervor I deserve. And finally…” He grips your chin and brushes his thumb across your lower lip. “I will worship you the same.”

You sputter. Meltdown. Oh no. Mayday, mayday. “Isn’t that a lot happening too fast? That seems like–”

“Nonsense!” Ozy shouts, pressing his forehead against yours in an act of dominance. “Every moment wasted is one your life may end. I do not worry for too fast. You may keep up with me, or you may not. The choice is yours.”

…You know, he has a good point. This is all so unexpected. Why does he have to be so reckless? Hectic. Confusing. Did Gilgamesh spill your concerns to him? There’s no way he should’ve been this prepared. Maybe it’s his ego. Boy oh boy your friends back home never would’ve believed this.

“Well, Master? Speak. Will you follow me or not?”

Chapter Text

  • A man of virtue and chivalry, though he’d deny it if anybody else called him those things.
  • Ya boy hates fighting. It’s an inconvenience at best, and it worst it’s just a way to bring him to death faster. 
  • Terrified of dying. Not comfortable with his mortality. While he’s accepting of fate’s fantastic ability to shaft him, he dreams of a timeline where finds the peace he’s been hoping for.
  • Non-religious, which is heretical for his time period. Wants to believe there’s a light at the end of his life, but he’s never seen it.
  • Replicates bird calls in the forest and can understand what the birds say back. He vents his frustrations to them in whistles and tweets.
  • Plays board games with fellow servants back at Chaldea to kill time. He enjoys games of skill where his tactical abilities matter. 
    • For obvious reasons his least favorite is Monopoly.
    • “Why make me be the banker if you’re just going to complain when I play it straight? You’re like, ‘Look it’s Robin Hood, he’ll redistribute the wealth in this horrible game to keep it exciting, right? He’s that guy all about fairness and equality, he’ll totally cheat for us.’ This game is stupid and you’re all stupid.”
  • Has nightmares about late stage capitalism. 
  • Has seen every Hallmark TV Christmas movie. Rips them all to shreds a la Cinema Sins.
  • Favorite holiday is Christmas, before the holy day was a cash grab for corporations like Hallmark that sell cards and gift paper and make shitty movies.
  • He is on the receiving end of the phrase “talk shit get hit.”
  • Spawn-camping asshole with zero shame.
  • In the process of watching every rare Vine compilation ever.


  • Attracted to his master from the start and proud of it. Assumes it’s because of the pact, so hell yeah he’s happy about it. He thinks it means that your pact is strong, but nah. You’re attractive.
  • Masturbates a lot. Multiple times a day on average. Cites boredom as his reasoning, but nah. He’s easily turned on.
  • Friends with benefits with his master before entering a committed relationship with them. Though it’s just understood that they’re not messing around with anybody else at the same time.
  • Heightened awareness of his partner’s presence. His hunting instincts make him keenly aware of their smell, sounds, and the space they take up.
  • Wild animal. He’s the type of sexy that Adam Levine wishes he was in the music video for Animals. 
    • “That was supposed to be sexy? Didn’t you call him the elevator music of pop radio?”
  • Does he ever run out of stamina?
    • “No.”
  • Many kinks and sexual interests, most of them normal. Below are a few. You can decide which ones you think are strange, because he likes all of them.
    • Roleplay.
    • Cross-dressing.
    • Bondage.
    • Exhibitionism.
    • Public sex.
    • Dangerous, risky.
    • Orgasm denial.
    • Crossbow-play.
      • “It’s like knife-play but with a crossbow and poison arrows.”

Chapter Text

  • In the Epic of Gilgamesh, Gilgamesh never took a consort. Though he bedded countless women with and without their consent, he was never wed. 
    • Most legends depict him as having never sired children, either. 
    • Who needs a wife and kids when you have Enkidu?
    • Who needs Enkidu when he’s going to be killed by Ishtar as revenge against Gilgamesh for rejecting her?
    • The possibilities are endless.
  • A Holy Grail War in his homeland was the perfect opportunity to regain his HGW Championship Belt that a certain king kept stealing from him.
    • “I have no need for the wishes that the Holy Grail can manifest. It is a treasure, therefore it belongs to me.”
  • But there is a contender for the Holy Grail that has been a nuisance since his summoning.
    • The servant has some nerve. They continue to send familiars and trinkets his way, all things reminiscent of his time as king. 
    • He believes them to be of the Rider class, as they lack a brain but make up for it in speed.
  • He chases them into the clouds, his golden airship lagging behind the enemy’s flaming red electric scooter. 
    • “It is an insult to waste a powerful riding scooter on such a pitiful machine, Rider!”
  • The pursuit continues all the way to the Persian Gulf, where the servant at last gives pause and halts their vehicle. They hover in the air, a silhouette against the setting sun.
    • It’s Ishtar. 
    • That motherf————–
  • Strangles her with the Chains of Heaven. 
  • Out of nowhere, Ereshkigal appears and blasts Ishtar away with her Noble Phantasm while Gil still has her chained.
    • Now this motherf——–
    • Ereshkigal apologizes, stating that, “The grudge between her and I has gone on far too long. You weren’t getting the final shot at her.”
  • With Ishtar gone, Gil permits Ereshkigal to leave the battlegrounds alive just this once.
    • “Enough of my time has been wasted. I want nothing to do with you, but I wanted less to do with her.”

“You finally caught up to me, Archer!” a feminine voice calls to the infuriated king.

He snickers. “A matter of time. This is little more than a game.” Golden discs open around him, various weapons forcing themselves into existence. “Are you finished playing coy, Rider?”

The woman cackles. Her form quakes with laughter. The scooter roars. “AHAHahahah! You don’t recognize me? I should be insulted!” 

Gilgamesh, uninterested, leans his head into his palm. “Should I recognize a single spec of dirt in a junkyard?” The Gate of Babylon circles the rider from all sides. “Your antics are boring and inconsequential. This Holy Grail War has no need for you.”

“An interesting thought, but I have a better one!” The servant and her scooter dematerialize. They explode into existence in front of Gil’s face. “Nice to see you, King of Heroes.”

His eyebrows bury themselves into his nose, lips curl into a scowl. His face is contorted with the fury of a thousand Noble Phantasms. 

A weapon to his hand. The woman disappears. She reappears behind him. The Gate of Babylon fires homing missiles to seek and destroy the mischievous goddess.

“You dare show your wretched face to me?! Hideous creature. You have no right to stand in my presence for what you’ve done! You are a waste of divinity.”

“AHAHA! You don’t get to make that call, do you?” She continues to vanish and reappear and poof and poof some more and how is she moving so fast, this little monster of a Heroic Spirit!

“I have no use for you or your stupidity, Mistress of Heaven. You’ve taken the form of a woman far more appealing than yourself and entered the Holy Grail War in another class with the intention of facing me. I will grant your wish and end your life before the Grail can!”

“Ooooh Enkiiidu~ I’m so sorrrrry for stealing you from your king. Can you eeeeever forgive me for exchanging your life for the life of my baby Bull of Heaven you two so ruuuuudley slaughtered~?”



Chapter Text

With Excalibur embedded in its body, the last enemy servant solidified to stone. Their form twinkled with the tears from their eyes and disintegrated into the smoke of battle. 

Arthur Pendragon bowed his head to the passing foe. They fought to the end and never wavered on their ideals. Even if they did not agree, this was worth the king’s respect. 

“Master!” he called. “We’ve done it!”

Master crossed the battlefield. With a few light steps they broke into a sprint. They threw themselves into Arthur’s arms, shedding tears into his cloak. “Thank you, Saber.”

“It has been an honor to serve as your knight.”  Arthur held Master at arm’s length and looked at their lone remaining Command Seal. “Our last task is to reach the Grail. Allow me to sense its presence.” He stepped aside and closed his eyes to focus on the presence of the Lesser Grail’s energy.

Brambles emerged from the earth and wrapped around Master. Master crumbled under the impossible weight. Thorns pierced their throat and arms and legs and pinned them into the ground. 

“S-saber–” they choked.

Arthur’s focus broke. He turned. Thorny limbs dragged Master through the dirt, across the field. He summoned Excalibur and dashed at the thicket. Every step he took, brambles grew and grass caught fire. The forest came alive, attacking him from every angle as he chased Master down. 

Deranged laughter echoed through the forest. The enemy survived Excalibur through the chest. “Oh how sweet.” 

Branches and vines whipped out to crush Arthur. Excalibur seared each one with ease. The farther he ran, the darker the wood grew until he was running in pitch black. There was no direction, only the trace of his Master’s magical energy to follow. He couldn’t keep up this pace for ever.

Saber will die here. Saber will die. He’ll never get to see the Grail. He needs the Grail. His wish… Master bled from each scrape in their body. Their Command Seal glowed. Please, save yourself, Arthur Pendragon.

Excalibur’s blade illuminated. Arthur winced at the Command Seal’s power taking over. Horror. Betrayal. Master used the last Command Seal to make him save himself? What type of ending does he have if Master isn’t there? Glowing particulates gathered in his hands. Disappointment. Heartbreak. 

If this is your last wish, Master… I will grant it. 

He whipped Excalibur around, wedging it deep into the thicket growing behind him. A quick prayer left his lips. Gripping the Holy Sword’s hilt with his whole body, he called the weapon’s name.

Light erupted from Excalibur’s body, piercing the brambles and shattering the endless cover of night. The forest exploded with Holy Light. The earth shook. Plants charred. Rocks hurdled into the air. Light traveled through the vines, overloading the trail of magical energy used to create them. Each limb of the ground’s tentacles exploded. 

The forest, and the darkness suffocating it, vaporized. With it they took the servant’s catalyst as it fizzled out of existence. 

Arthur stood solemn in the dimming light of Excalibur. His head hung low and shoulders quivered. Nothing in the area would have survived his Noble Phantasm.

The Lesser Grail appeared before Arthur. He stared at his reflection in the liquid. Disgust. Failure. The Grail set itself in his hands, urging him to take a sip. But he instead carried the cup to his Master’s debilitated body. Master’s bones were broken and limbs contorted in disgusting angles. Their eyes were still open and shock was plastered on their face. 

“This… is not a victory,” Arthur whispered. “But we won, Master.”

He set the Grail on the ground and rearranged Master into a more comfortable-looking position. He shut Master’s bleeding eyes. With Master like this, he could pretend they were sleeping. Yes… He could believe he won the Holy Grail War and shared his wish with his partner and friend.

He curled up at Master’s side and took their hand in his. 

The Lesser Grail’s contents overflowed and spilled onto their bodies.

Chapter Text

  • Cu Chulainn’s love language is not physical contact. If he’s not in the mood to be affectionate, he will not outright reject his partner but he will place distance between them.
    • Nobody has time to sit around and think about love and sex all day.
    • But if he could sit around thinking about love and sex all day, he sure as sugar would. 
    • And in case you’re curious, he is an “Acts of Service” guy.
  • Hugs and kisses are cool. But you know what’s really cool? 
    • Having a master who is exceedingly affectionate to the point of cling. 
    • What’s that product that they use in this era? Saran wrap?
  • He enjoys thoughtlessly playing with his partner’s hair, tugging on it when they’re least expecting.
    • Even better if they make a grumpy face.
    • “If you’re gonna look at me like that, I have to do it. Don’t be cute if you can’t handle the consequences.”
  • Did you say pets? You better mean heavy pets because if he gets started on the path of pets you will be receiving more than one singular pet.
    • Head pets. Tummy pets. Butt pets. You must accept them.
  • Holding hands is a no-go. Prefers to offer his arm for his lover to latch onto and lean on. 
    • He bites his nails when he’s bored. Shameful, yes, but what’re you going to do with nails when you weild a causality-reversing spear anyway?  
  • Cuddles are great when they’re not uncomfortable for him. As much as he wants to put his partner’s comfort first, he will speak up if he’s not cozy. 
    • If he doesn’t speak up, he’ll pick up his partner and readjust. 
  • In denial about his love of being little spoon. It makes him feel like a koala bear, but with more brain and less eucalyptus. 
  • Pulling surprise PDA on him will almost guarantee being stone-walled by his teasing. 
    • Try to jump on him from behind? He’ll flip them over his head and onto the couch. (Gently, of course.)
    • Try to sneak kisses onto his neck to get him going? He’ll grab them by the butt and press them against his body, giving them that look a good boy gives when he wants those pets.
  • When Cu is alone with a partner, his relentless teasing doesn’t end, but it does turn into more provocative teasing.
    • Thinking being pinned against a wall. 
    • Think being peppered with kisses.
    • Think nuzzles and tight hugs.
  • Even if he’s not the best with physical affection outside of intimacy, he’ll still give it a shot to make his partner happy. But if he doesn’t like something he won’t do it. 
  • "You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to get the jump on me… You made the joke, I didn’t say anything. Hey! Where ya running off to? …It’s like you forgot I’m a Heroic Spirit or something. Geez. Alright, c’mere. Gimme a hug. Sorry for embarrassing you. Again.”

Chapter Text


  • Achilles was disguised as a woman to prevent him from being called to war. He was at Skyros hiding with other princesses while having an affair with the king’s daughter Deidamia. He was outed when horns blew to mark intruders and instead of running away he took up a spear to battle. 
    • Achaeans sieged Troy for nearly a decade, during which time Achilles and Ajax lead armies into Trojan territories. During this Achilles conquered 11 cities and 12 islands. 
    • His death was said to be the work of the gods, dictating that he had ended the lives of too many others. The man needed to be stopped, and so a poisoned arrow fired by Paris and directed by Apollo ended the hero’s life.
  • Helen was recorded in history as the most beautiful woman in the world and the wife of King Menelaus of Sparta. She was stolen by Prince Paris of Troy. The Achaeans were sent out to retrieve her from Troy. This was the cause of the Trojan War. After death she united with Achilles, whom she would share the afterlife with.
  • Cassandra was the daughter of the king and queen of Troy. According to common interpretations, Apollo gifted Cassandra prophecies in an attempt to woo her. She rejected him, and he cursed her so that nobody would believe her prophecies. She was his priestess and a sworn virgin, and the curse provided her nothing but misery, including prior knowledge of the coming fall of Troy.
  • Penthesilea was queen of the Amazons that accidentally slayed Hippolyta during a hunting outing. Her grief drove her to suicidal desperation. As an Amazon she was unable to sacrifice her honor and instead defended Troy in the Trojan War, where she was killed by Achilles. He removed her helmet, immediately fell in love, and was chided for this by the soldier Thersites. 


  • Achilles doesn’t allow his partner’s name to affect his view of them as a person, nor does he allow it to affect their relationship. 
  • While he is aware of the implications a name can hold, he also refuses to believe that a title is the only part of an individual that matters. As a hero of many feats he believes that a person’s actions are the greatest testament to their character. 
    • He’d be thrilled to meet an Ajax, but he wouldn’t assume that person to be the soldier and companion that his Ajax was.
  • He does have passing thoughts about the implications of a name, though they don’t impact his approach to the partnership.
    • To be with Helen is to be with a woman worth ending the world for, but more importantly one worth seeing the end of the world with.
    • To be with Cassandra is to be cursed by circumstance, and despite ability be unable to escape it.
    • To be with Penthesilea is to be certain that a woman’s beauty is deserving of admiration even after death.

Chapter Text


  • In the Nasuverse, Enkidu is the one and only friend of Chaldea’s biggest ass. They were created by the gods to rival Gilgamesh and humble him by showing that he had a true equal. They are his only equal, and the only figure that has ever received the affection of the King of Heroes. They adored their first lover Shamhat so much that they chose to mold their form to resemble her. 
  • The Epic of Gilgamesh isn’t nearly as pretty. Gil is a brutal tyrant and oppressor, appearing at points to have no redeeming qualities. But alas he is courageous and wise, and becomes the standard set for heroes of the time. His tragedy represents the endless pursuit of immortality. 
    • The god Anu creates a feral man, Enkidu, as punishment for the king’s behavior. The feral man is cared for by Shamhat, a sacred temple prostitute. She lures him away from the wild with her body and tames him with sex. He is rejected by his wild companions and chooses to leave behind his life in the wild.
    • In Sumerian works, Enkidu is depicted as a slave to Gilgamesh instead of his companion. 
      • Ancient Mesopotamian Headcanons.


  • No amount of bad days can discourage Enkidu, and that’s partly because they’re made of clay and have little concept of human emotion. 
    • Their only frames of reference for giving a heck are Gilgamesh and Shamhat. While Enkidu adores both of these figures, it’s not the best start for developing relationships. 
    • How does a blob of clay develop relationships, anyway?
  • Being a blank emotional slate has its pros and cons.
    • A manipulative, cruel first partner would leave that impression on him, and it could become behavior they replicate in the future. Following this, they wouldn’t feel remorse if they did something bad until after it has been explained to them why it is bad.
    • A loving, kind, strong-willed partner would in turn teach them positive habits by which to gauge relationships.
    • They do have a concept of right and wrong, but anything involving Gilgamesh is worthy of speculation.
  • Whatever partner wants, partner gets.
    • Comes with the caveat that Enkidu is easily persuaded into doing things that were suggested out of sarcasm or as a joke. 
    • Has this in common with Karna, so they may get together to discuss ways to process a partner’s desires and how to achieve them without getting in trouble.
    • Interesting to note that Enkidu is not a people-pleaser, nor do they feel obligated to act on behalf of others outside of a Holy Grail War. They’re not willing to compromise their sense of self.
  • Can be taught to do “relationship” things, but they don’t come naturally. Once they start to learn, they’ll pick things up fast. They’ll do their own amount of investigation on a subject to expand their wealth of knowledge. 
    • Turns out being a god-made blob of clay means unlimited potential.
  • By default they won’t go out of their way for anything.
    • Won’t go out of their way for extravagance, but as they learn what their romantic partner likes they will figure out how to make it reality.
    • Won’t go out of their way to share information, but if asked they will answer honestly.
    • If only you were Gilgamesh, then they’d literally die for you. 
  • Not outwardly affectionate, but responds well to the introduction of physical contact to the relationship. 
  • Over time will develop their own thoughts and opinions regarding what they do/don’t like in a relationship. 
    • These will start out as a basic interpretation of “this feels good” and “this feels bad” but will grow into more complex ideas.
    • Romantic feelings will also develop from “this feels good” and “this feels bad” into complicated concepts like “I do not want a life without this individual.”
  • Doesn’t require much effort from a partner. Love, honesty, and sex are all they want. 
    • But if you don’t want sex they won’t force it. 
  • The idea of two forms molding to one another is sacred. 
  • “This love is a gift I did not expect to ever receive. I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would. It’s quite fun, now that it has been some time! I hope to continue sharing in experiences with you.”

Chapter Text

A master that should not have been. A battle that was not hers to fight. Blood poured from her lips and pooled in her dimples. Peers kicked her body across the hall, tore her clothes. She kept the tears in and waited to die.

But a shadow appeared before her, and her peers toppled to the ground. Their cries shocked her awake.  The figure took a spearman’s stance, their weapon wrapped in rags. They knelt beside the girl. 

“Master,” they whispered, “I will not leave you here.” They lifted the girl from the ground and carried her in their arms.

  • Scathach relies on her master for nothing more than mana. As her master’s body slowly recovers, the Heroic Spirit goes out of her way to put her master’s life above victory in all scenarios.
  • Scathach often fights as though she has a death wish. While she desperately wants to die like a human would, she cannot. For this reason she battles alongside her master hoping some day her peerless pupil ends her life. 
  • Master is inexperienced, despite her crest and powerful magic circuits. The conditions would be ideal for a servant if Master had any idea how to properly utilize her abilities. 
    • She’s spent much of her educational career being overlooked, hovering near the middle of the pack. She’s never been considered brilliant, nor stupid, nor exceptional. 
    • What she lacks in book smarts she makes up for in creativity–her ability to find absurd ways to use magecraft is unmatched. 
  • Master and Scathach develop a close camaraderie, though they have nothing in common. 
  • Scathach takes on a mentoring role with her master and instructs in the way of the spear. Master becomes passable enough to defend herself in an emergency.
    • The fun starts once she improvises a method of using magecraft to empower objects and other abilities. (This isn’t unlike the way another Anime Protagonist learned to become swords.)
  • The two of them make a decent pair. After a time they learn to balance with each other’s strengths. Scathach makes for an excellent educator. Master is an expert of improvisation. 
  • They do not win the Moon Cell Holy Grail War due to Master sustaining a life-threatening injury. Scathach, overwhelmed with guilt and the desire to protect a life that doesn’t deserve to end so soon, elects to stay by her master and continuing to defend their stage for as long as need be. 
  • The two of them plot to eventually try to either reach the top or be thrown out together.

Chapter Text

“I could stuff you in a sack and carry you everywhere. Come here, Master! Let me take a look at you. You’re a cute little thing, aren’t you?”

“You look so offended. If you let your sense of righteousness rule, you’ll never have a good time. Relax. Have a drink with me.”

“Don’t get your britches in a bunch. I completely understand where you’re coming from. Being treated differently over your appearances is nothing to laugh at. Heh… You may find this hard to believe, Master, but I’ve been on the receiving end of that same shit.”

“'How’ you ask? Aha… Women weren’t meant to sail. It was unheard of in my time. I sailed the entire world. I surpassed even the horizon. They say I brought down the sun! I couldn’t stand still on land. My sea legs would shake and I’d crave the motion of the ocean.”

“It’s been a long time. I’m happy to be on new adventures. You could say I’ve done it all, with a huge pair of knockers and an iron gut.”

“Plenty of people would say that, you would just ignore them! You can’t reach my face. Good luck spitting in it, tiny-tot.”

Master stretches up on their toes to glare at Sir Francis Drake’s face. The woman rips a wry grin. She grips Master’s chin and lifts them off the ground and into a kiss. Master flails and leaps away. Drake laughs from her belly. 

“Complain to someone your own size or come take a seat with me, Master. Either way it’s going to be a long night. Hey! Where’s that drink I asked for! You lovable worthless sacks of–!”

Chapter Text

“Not sure what you mean by ‘no-chill’ but I am positive that you are wrong. I will have whatever people want me to have! If they want me to have ‘chill’ I will have every ‘chill’ out there!”

“I was joking when I suggested a Chaldean French Revolution! My heart weeps for Marie Antoinette and the White Lily.”

“If he stopped calling me ‘majesty’ I would have no need to yell at him! How am I supposed to know how he’ll behave? It is not my fault you summoned so many Frenchman. Do we interest you?”

“Hahhaha! There’s no trouble in working with him or any other. If my demand to remove formalities sticks I will make him my friend, as I have made you my friend.”

“I would love to stay here and read, Maître, but I will not stand by while my companions seek triumph. As you are my companion, I will follow you to the battlefield no matter the cost.”

“Thank you, Master. I admit I see you beyond the boundaries of friendship. You have many admirable qualities. Your height is amazing! You are even shorter than I was!”

Master whacked Napoleon on the chest and folded their arms. The servant cackled and bent at the waist to reach eye-level. He tapped their nose, inching his face into their comfort zone.

“It was not meant as an insult, Master. I am taller than my legend–faster, stronger, and far more attractive. Yet still you surpass my everything! Your presence is more rewarding than all my victories.”

Chapter Text

  • Baby animals. 
    • Specifically wildcats. But also dogs. And also all animals. But not baby humans. Baby humans look like aliens. Baby animals are precious innocent gifts from above.
    • Oh gosh and ducklings. Artoria doesn’t seem to like ducks because ducks don’t like her, but he loves them.
  • Fuzzy things. Includes blankets, baby animals, and more blankets. 
  • Fluffy-looking plants.
    • Not as big a flower guy as some of Chaldea’s other boys, but he’s been known to admire their beauty.
    • Makes wishes on dandelions. 
    • Does not see “weeds” as a nuisance, instead is made to smile by nature’s willingness to always find a way to grow. 
  • Hot chocolate. With whipped cream, and cinnamon sticks. And a spoon, because he doesn’t want to spill it everywhere.
  • Being a legend is cool and all, but hiding in bed with a book or his lover is way cooler.
  • Though he spent his life on an island fearing the attacks that may come from the sea, he now likes the ocean. 
    • Boats are cool. 
    • Jet-skis and water-skis are SUPER cool.
  • He wants to learn to play an instrument. He’s really bad at it, and he can’t carry a tune. But you would be dead wrong to think he doesn’t pretend to be a star in the shower.
  • Traveling! Now that he’s a Heroic Spirit with a Master supplying him adequate mana to maintain his form, he gets to see the world all he wants! 
    • His adventures give him great perspective on his own ideals. 
    • The Knights of the Round Table try to accompany him, but he’ll escape before they can ruin his fun by being overprotective.
    • Servants he travels with regularly and finds to be good companions for these adventures include but are not limited to:
      • Astolfo, Iskandar, Dr. Jekyll, Marie Antoinette, Martha, Medea, Merlin, Nero, Scathach, Shakespeare, Shiro Amakusa, and his favorite (only) son, Mordred.
      • Traveling with Artoria is miserable. So he doesn’t do it.

Chapter Text


  • Though she does not share a name with Isolde, nor does she share a face, Tristan is content to developing a close connection to Master.
    • He’s thrilled her name isn’t Isolde, because he’s already had three of those in his life and each of them went poorly. 
  • Figures out early on that Master is something special, because to his knowledge even in death he was unable to escape the effects of the love potion that inevitably cursed him.
    • Around Master, that relentless feeling of obsession fades away. He finds himself at peace in their arms, in their care. 
  • His gratitude for Master’s love knows no bounds. He stands beside them on every battlefield and conquers their enemies effortlessly.
  • Enjoys playing harp for them when he has the chance. It eases both his and Master’s troubles.
  • Thoughts of Isolde the Fair still plague him, but they are now met with solace. He understands better now where he erred in his youth. He sees the actions he took as foolish and is glad to rest.
  • Upset wouldn’t hit him until it was too late, unfortunately. To realize that his love for Master is rooted in her identity would require an incident taking one of their lives (or at the very least coming close).
  • Tristan again would suffer a fatal wound in battle, though this time in Camelot.
    • As Master is watching over and healing him, a refugee soldier would bring up the legend of Sir Tristan and Isolde, and observe aloud that Master’s energy reads similarly to that of Isolde the Fair.
      • The strange observation leads them both to assume that the man was once a soldier in Brittany or Cornwall, but that wouldn’t make sense because of where the singularity is. 
      • The knowledge makes them both uncomfortable.
  • The healing process for Tristan is quick, as his lover able to transfer mana through physical intimacy. He seems lost, out of touch with himself. His interest in Master wanes.
  • His fear is that the understanding of his relationship with Master has been wrong all along, and that he’s still bound to a substance he thought he’d escaped. He thought he started over, had a chance to make something new, escape his fated curse.
    • He was wrong.
  • Master keeps distance. 
    • The distance is manufactured by their upset, as the two are still very much in love. Their hearts pull toward each other, but it hurts.
  • Master and Tristan stay together, quieter than before about their romance. 
    • In many ways they feel a need to start over. 
    • They wonder if their relationship is illegitimate due to the influence of the love potion, and if they ever would’ve been together otherwise.
  • Self-loathing from both parties blaming themselves ensues.
    • Their passionate love often melds with fervent anger, and they find themselves craving each other even more. 
    • The conflicting emotions are unbearable. 
    • They debate whether or not to separate for the sake of completing the mission in Camelot.
  • No matter where their bodies fall on the field of battle, the vines growing from their graves will still intertwine. 


  • The tale of Tristan and Isolde is a timeless tragedy inspired by Celtic legends. 
  • His tragic love story starts as such:
    • Morholt was an Irish duke. He sought tributes from King Mark (Tristan’s uncle and caretaker) and and Tristan challenged the man to single combat to prevent other soldiers from having to battle. 
      • They fought on an island, where Tristan destroyed his own boat to assert that only the winner would return home. 
      • Tristan inflicted Morholt with a mortal wound. Morholt had poisoned his own blade and infected Tristan, meaning Tristan would die soon as well. Queen Isolde of Ireland was the only one capable of healing Tristan.
      • Irish knights carried Morholt’s body away. Queen Isolde and her niece, Isolde the Fair, kept the piece of the killer’s sword that was found in Morholt’s head. Isolde the Fair held onto the splinter throughout life.
    • Tantris was a magnificent harp player that inspired Isolde the Fair to learn to play. The Queen healed his wounds unaware that this was her brother’s killer. He recovered over forty days, during which he taught Isolde the Fair the harp and eventually left in peace, returning to Cornwall under his true name.
    • Tristan was King Mark’s closest relative and King Mark was content to let Tristan be his heir. 
      • Others weren’t thrilled about this. They weren’t fans of Tristan or his tragic youth backstory.
      • King Mark’s advisors encouraged him to produce and heir with a spouse. 
      • Tristan described Isolde the Fair’s beauty to his uncle, and the advisors suggested that Tristan battle Morholt’s family to win Isolde the Fair’s hand for King Mark. They thought this would lead to Tristan’s death. 
    • A dragon was tormenting Ireland at the time. King Goram, husband of Queen Isolde and father of Isolde the Fair, offered a bounty on the dragon–its killer would receive his daughter.
      • Tristan kills the dragon and cuts out its tongue, and is poisoned by the tongue while carrying it. He is eventually found by Queen Isolde and Isolde the Fair, who recognize him as Tantris the harp-player.
      • They bring Tristan back to their place, where Queen Isolde heals him once again and nudges him into battle against the guy that claimed to kill the dragon. 
      • Goram is like, “That’s fine, but if he doesn’t show up for battle you’re dead. Your life is on the line here.” 
      • Isolde the Fair finds Tristan’s blade while he’s in the bath and realizes the notch in his sword matches the wedge from her dead uncle’s head. 
        • She’s about to kill him, but he reminds her that if she does she’s going to have to marry the coward she hates and her mother will die.
        • She tells her mother and they both agree to spare him for the sake of Queen Isolde, and because if Isolde the Fair had children with King Mark they would be rulers of Ireland and Cornwall. 
      • Tristan proves himself as the dragonslayer and wins Isolde’s hand for his uncle.
      • Assuming that her daughter wouldn’t enjoy being married to a much older king, Queen Isolde prepares a love potion and has it transported to Cornwall with Tristan and Isolde the Fair.
    • Tristan and Isolde are on the ship back. They’re parched and decide to sip from a wine-bottle. Except it’s not wine, it’s the love potion. The two fall passionately in love and make love on the ship, tainting Isolde the Fair’s purity.
      • Isolde the Fair is wed to King Mark and another woman takes her place in the dark on the marriage bed to prevent the realization that Isolde had been deflowered by Tristan. She spent the knight of her wedding in Tristan’s arms and snuck back to her husband before dawn.
      • Their passion is obvious to everyone but King Mark, and eventually he realizes the act of betrayal. Mark reconciles with Isolde but banishes Tristan.
      • Tristan traveled across countless kingdoms to serve under different kings during many wars. He settled in Brittany where the Duke’s daughter, Isolde of the White Hands, was wed to him. 
      • Thought of Isolde the Fair forgetting their love plagued him, but he accepted that he would never reunite with her.
        • He did see her again. He made love to her despite never consummating his marriage with Isolde of the White Hands.
        • Tristan never falls out of love with Isolde the Fair, but stays with Isolde of the White Hands.
      • Tristan grows ill with an illness only Isolde the Fair can cure and requests she come to help him. 
      • He says that if a ship comes to aid him, let the sails be white if Isolde the Fair is on board and black if she is not.
      • Isolde the Fair sets out as soon as she is alerted of Tristan’s poor health.
      • When the ships come to Brittany, Isolde of the White Hands tells Tristan that the sails are black. Tristan accepts this as his punishment, and he at last loses the will to live. He lets his wounds overcome him. 
    • Isolde the Fair finds Tristan dead when she arrives and in her heartbreak dies with her arms around him. The two were buried together in Cornwall side-by-side. 
      • Overnight, two trees sprouted from both graves and the branches intertwined. 
      • King Mark, infuriated, burned down the trees.
      • The trees grew back the next day.
      • Mark hacked them down again, sure it’d stick.
      • They still grew back.

Chapter Text

  • Elsa’s son died the year before the 1st Tokyo Holy Grail War.
    • In the HGW, she was the master of Arash. 
    • Manaka Sajyou cursed Elsa to become her puppet. She forced Elsa to use all of her Command Seals to enhance Arash’s Noble Phantasm to defeat Rider. 
    • Elsa cried watching Arash fade. Even knowing she was manipulated into killing Arash herself by commanding him to use Stella, her heart broke in guilt.
    • Her tears didn’t stop until the end of the HGW. She was said to later tell stories of Arash at her son’s grave.
  • Atalanta was rejected by her father as a child because he wanted a son. He threw her into the woods and left her to die. She learned to hunt and was protected by the goddess Artemis, who took pity on her.
    • Her goal as a Heroic Spirit is to end the suffering of all children in the world.
    • She would hprovide them with the love that they deserve. 
    • Kids are innocent.
    • Do not hurt the small humans.
  • In addition to their deep passion for the world around them, they share a love of hunting and a connection to the Archer class. 
    • At first Elsa cries a bunch because Archer shares the first two letters of Arash, and Atalanta has at least as many A’s as Arash does. 
  • They have a lot of fun together and balance each other out quite well.
    • Atalanta gets the mother figure and friend she lacked in life. 
    • Elsa gets the chance to be both a mother and a friend.
    • They each get to go home without the stress of dealing with each other all day every day.
  • As for hobbies the two share, they decide to try new things together instead of forcing the other to learn about their hobbies. 
    • Not everyone can be an Argonaut. 
  • Here are some of the things they try (and fail) in efforts to find common ground in enjoyment:
    • Knitting. Both of them are bored to death.
    • Hiking. Elsa isn’t built for the great outdoors. 
    • Watching reality television. Atalanta finds it dull compared to her own adventures, treatment of children is gross.
      • Stop treating your kids like objects you vapid pieces of shit.
    • Ice skating. Elsa is a bit older and it hurts her knees. 
      • She doesn’t fall on the ice, but she bumps into other people a lot. Atalanta tries to guide her around the rink, but Elsa is too nervous and it results in both of them getting injured. 
      • Atalanta of course brushes it off like it’s nothing.
    • Wine-tasting. Atalanta thinks it all tastes nasty. Modern alcoholic beverages are shit compared to back in her day.
  • Atalanta offers to teach this Elsa how to hunt. 
    • Elsa turns out to be a natural, but not with a bow. Turns out she’s got a deadly shot. 
    • She takes up practicing at a firing range with Atalanta and becomes a gun enthusiast. 
    • She only ever touches them at the range and otherwise keeps all of her shooting paraphernalia in a locked tote under her bed.
  • Walk down the street and you’ll find a cat-girl and a former master eating at urban cafes and discussing politics and humanitarian efforts. They share newspapers and ideas, and go to protests together.

Chapter Text

  • This no good stupid motherfucking piece of shit.
  • You know, they’re both evil in the Nasuverse. And for obvious reasons Atalanta sees herself as far less awful than this guy.
  • No matter which side of war Atalanta played on, she strove to never involve children. 
    • Children should be separated from the toils of battle. They have no place in being victims of a fight that they cannot choose to escape.
  • So she meets Paracelsus when he’s summoned to Chaldea, because he’s just a three-star that sometimes shows up in Friend Point Gacha, and Atalanta was here first when Master rolled big Saint Quartz for her.
  • Atalanta meets the man and politely introduces herself. When he reaches out to shake her hand, she breaks his arm and slams his entire body into the ground.
  • She proceeds to press her knee into his stomach and pin him down, screaming at him about his sins. 
    • He can see how he may deserve this response. 
  • After beating him to a pulp in front of Gudako, Atalanta drags Paracelsus to his new living quarters by his hair, refusing to let him stand. 
    • She buries his face in the door with her fist still locked near his neck and tells him to enter the passcode. 
    • The door opens and Paracelsus doesn’t fall in because he’s being held up painfully by his hair. 
  • Atalanta throws him inside. Her glare slices open his ribs. 

“You are a disgusting excuse for a Heroic Spirit and have no place here nor anywhere else. Your acts of betrayal will never be forgiven. Lie down like the mutt you are and stay there. Or I’ll rip the bones from your body and feed them to the hounds.”


  • And for those of you who are uncertain of Paracelsus, Nasuverse Paracelsus is kind of a big deal. 
    • A master magus that can manipulate the elements and use jewel magecraft, and he was close to the Clock Tower where he networked with the Atlas Academy and Wandering Sea.
    • Original creator of the Azoth Sword.
    • Shares secrets that aren’t supposed to be told, such as trying to expose magecraft to the population of the world. 
      • He thinks that magecraft could help the public and repeatedly used alchemy to help people. 
    • Known for valuing humanity and loving children deeply. Human affection is the most valuable thing in the world, and being able to guide and teach others was his greatest joy.
    • As a Heroic Spirit in the Tokyo Holy Grail War, he was given an opportunity that inspired him to toss all of that a way for the chance to reach the Root.
      • Offered a deal by Manaka Sajyou during battle with her, where she charmed him into joining her. He killed his former master and switched sides to work with her. This was out of character from what was known of him.
      • His greatest betrayal was committed against his original master’s daughter, Misaya. The two of them were considered friends, and he greatly adored the child. But he confesses to not only killing her father but to leaving a curse upon her.
      • Later feels horrible remorse for this and regrets being manipulated by Manaka.

Chapter Text

A magus sacrifices their idea of self in exchange for mastery of their practice. They must eliminate all boundaries between themselves and mage-craft.

Participating in the Holy Grail War is a sacred opportunity. Being chosen by the Holy Grail is an honor–one that only a fool would deny.

Yes. Only a fool would reject the demands of the Holy Grail. 

By answering its call I commit myself to the mission of my father, and his father before him. This family’s Crest is more than enough to overpower any other master. My servant is undoubtedly the strongest. Combining my abilities with his, we will certainly take the Holy Grail for our own. 

“Master,” Saber calls, “what do we have planned for today?”


“To my knowledge there is at least one other servant yet to be summoned. It’s in our best interests to choose a vantage point and survey the city.” Master stretches their fingers, closing and opening their fist.

Saber nods. “I agree. Do you have a location in mind?”

Master shakes their head. “No. This is my first time here. Google Street View doesn’t show rooftops.”

“Would you like me to scout for potential locations?”

“If you could find an elevated spot near concentrations of magical energy, that would be optimal.” 

Saber smiles. “Would you like to come along?”


“In my experience,” Saber says, “strong bonds between a servant and master lead to better results. It may be best for us to get to know each other.”

Master flicks their eyes from their Command Seals to Saber and back again. 

An ideal magus’s identity offers nothing to be learned. There is only lineage and mage-craft. Though their abilities can be derived from this knowledge, their character is defined only by their status as a magus.

“It would be useful for me to learn more of you,” Master notes. “I will accompany you.”

At the top of the city, Saber stands with Master hugged close to his body. 

Being so close to another is a curse. Their warmth is deceptive and inviting.

“I’m capable of bracing myself,” Master states flatly.

They look out over the narrow steel beams. Lights. Traffic. Bodies. Crowds milling about, going through their own daily motions. Ants moving in organized pathways through the streets, carrying oversized leaves from one place to the next.

At his side I can feel his heartbeat. I can hear his thoughts and see through his eyes.  It is a strange sensation.

The space in Master’s chest fills with air.

“I know,” Saber says, “but it is my duty as a knight to ensure my master is protected. If you were to fall I could catch you, but I would rather you not fall.” He grins down at Master, who glares back up at him. “My first priority is to protect you. If I am unable to do that and you are unable to concentrate, this is not a good location. There are many others to check that–”

A servant doubling as a fireplace may be a good with this taking place in autumn.

“No,” Master interrupts, “this is an excellent location, Saber. Thank you.”

Chapter Text

  • Getting into a relationship with a bitter old woman sounds like a better idea than it is. 
  • Just because she’s beautiful of body and character doesn’t mean that she is an object to pursue.
    • She’s nearly a divine spirit because neither the world nor the underworld will accept her, and she doesn’t give a shit if some rando accepts her.
      • Shame on you for wanting her in a relationship despite the suffering she’s experienced for however many centuries she’s been trapped between life and death.
  • Has no interest in intimacy.
    • Only attraction she currently experiences is to her most prized pupil, and thoughts of his success are really the only thing that brings her peace.
      • And her attraction stems from wanting him to kill her, because he’s the only one she believes is capable of it.
    • Admires the openness of people interested in romance and sex, but has no care for romance and sex.
  • To kill and never have the opportunity to repent is exhausting.
    • Watched legends be born and die.
    • Became a legend herself and found the roles demanded of her tiring, but necessary to fulfill.
    • Trained men into becoming legends, much akin to Chiron (whom she would likely get along with but still not be attracted to). 
  • Sees herself as someone willing to lead if it is required her, though she has no self-interest for power. 
    • This translates into interpersonal relationships by being willing to develop friendships if she feels “indebted” but will not go out of her way to associate with others.
  • Romance and relationships are far beyond the realm of possibility for her at this point. 
  • Gonna get brick-walled if you try.

Chapter Text

  • A magus’s top priority is dedication to their craft. They sacrifice their sense of self in exchange for strength. This is the route that Master has taken, aware that their love for their servant will never be reciprocated.
  • The master-servant connection means that King Arthur is aware of Master’s romantic feelings for him. He knows that the suppression of those is for the better, but it’s bittersweet. 
    • On one hand he wants to be able to encourage Master to pursue their love. 
    • On the other hand Arthur has already experienced multiple Holy Grail Wars in which his master developed feelings for him, and at least one of those went horribly awry.
  • He’s been around long enough to love and be loved countless times, but he’s apprehensive about it at every point in history. 
    • Blame Lancelot.
  • Arthur respects his master more for their decision and appreciates their willingness to relieve pressure from his shoulders. 
  • Romance is a responsibility not meant for the Holy Grail War, and the Holy Grail doesn’t care about anybody’s feelings.
  • Master keeps a straight face in the midst of conflict, but between the pact and Arthur’s subconscious understanding, Master is never able to hide anything.
    • It’s great because it means that they’ll have an easy time reading the room in a tough situation.
    • It’s awful because keeping secrets from Arthur is never going to happen.
  • It upsets Arthur that a barrier exists between the two of them. The stronger a master-servant bond, the better they perform together. 
  • As much as he wants to break that wall, he sees it as dangerous to both his and his master’s well-being. For that reason he’s unable to comfort his companion the way he wants.
  • When Master is stressed and he wishes he could reach out for them, he instead plants his palm on their forehead, cups his fingers over their brow, and presses hard. Master presses back with their head until they tire out. Turns out it’s quite relaxing.
  • When Arthur is stressed, Master wishes they could ease his troubles. They ache, desperate to do more. But still. Even though it hurts, romance has no place in a Holy Grail War.
    • Even if they are attracted to each other and want to make each other’s dreams come true. 

Chapter Text

  • Arthur loves this shit.
  • Pictures are the best invention ever. He wishes they were around during his era so he could’ve taken selfies with the Knights of the Round Table and captured memories of Mordred growing up.
  • Sheds at least one tear of overwhelming joy when flipping through Master’s photos. There’s a charm in the innocence of youth that he never experienced, and it warms his heart to see other children having that.
  • Reminded of his experience raising Mordred in his timeline and how Artoria isolated Mordred in her timeline. There’s a pang of guilt knowing that in other times Mordred would suffer such a lonely fate.
    • Especially when Arthur loved being a father.
    • Yeah sure there were other fantastical experiences, like slaying dragons and ruling a kingdom and being a historical figure. But the real joy in his life came from making others happy. Raising Mordred was one of his most positive memories.
  • Asks lots of questions about modern day children’s toys and points out contraptions he doesn’t understand. 
    • Light-up shoes, rattling teddy bears, and mobiles that play lullabies are his new favorite accessories for wee ones and he wishes he could raise Mordred in this era instead of his own.
    • “Even though there is still war in this era, I wish could bring your times of peace home. I feel safe here. In Camelot, we were never truly safe.”
  • No matter what type of mage Arthur’s master is, their childhood and baby photos will remind him that this master is still a person with their own life and dreams. 
    • If they are good, it reminds him that they are pure of heart and have valid desires.
    • If they are evil, it is a reminder that no man is born evil.

Chapter Text

  • Gawain’s a ball of sunshine that, even in his darkest moments, finds something to smile about. His sincerity knows no bounds. He was even seen as dumb or air-headed due to his lack of grudges or cruelty. Truly he is a perfect gentleman and the ideal knight.
  • But then he gets into a relationship.
    • Ooooh-buddy-boy you are in for it.
  • Refuses to be “low-key.” 
    • If this is the year 2018, he wants to be Facebook official and show up in your Instagram and Snapchat Stories. He doesn’t care if nobody uses FB anymore (because they totally do). 
    • Wants to meet every member of your family.
    • Wants to meet every one of your friends.
    • Wants to visit every place you’ve ever visited. Ever. Good luck.
  • Has a habit of accidentally being open about your intimate life. He makes inappropriate sex jokes and innuendos in front of the wrong people. 
    • You can’t be sure if he’s oblivious to it, because he smiles the whole time. But he bats his eyelashes and denies knowing what you’re talking about if you ask about it.
  • Desire for his partner is unending. He’s always respectful of their wishes despite his constant yearning for them. 
    • He’s attracted to them physically, intellectually, emotionally, cosmically, whatever adverbs you can think sound sweet and romantic, he is attracted to his partner in that way.
    • Overwhelmed by love and lust and wonder while in love.
  • Flowers for every occasion! Flowers flowers and more flowers. He wants to grow a garden of fluffy flowers with his partner. 
    • “When we have a home of our own, we will plant a beautiful garden! Oh, not as beautiful as your sister-I-mean-mother. You are so lovely, madam. It is an honor to court your daughter.”
    • Mom swoons and this dude is just a big cheeky bastard about it. 
  • The man can woo.
    • Holding doors, taking jackets, pulling out coats, offering his arm, carrying the umbrella… Like, damn. He really is the ideal knight.
  • Master of fun dates.
    • Also a huge arcade shark???
      • Servants get knowledge of the time period they are transferred to, but this guy is way too good at every arcade game he plays. Skeeball champion of the world incoming.
    • Laser tag, arcades, promenades, boardwalks, amusement parks, fairs, haunted houses, carnivals… He loves to have a good time. They’re all entertaining and he gets to feel like a hero when his partner makes googly eyes at his mystique. 
    • Theaters, art shows, museums, historical sites, botanical gardens, the beach, the possibilities are endless. 
    • It’s all done with the intent to see his love in every scenario and absorb experiences with them. He will find what makes them happiest and do it.
  • Warning: Public Displays of Affection Ahead
    • Shameless
    • Kisses, hugs, carrying, dancing, tickling, and joking (and occasionally groping) are all activities he’s more than happy to participate in with a crowd. He doesn’t care. 
    • The kind of guy to carry you on his back when your feet hurt.
  • Somehow never gets lost no matter where he is. Has an incredible sense of direction and will always find his way to you or your destination without a compass.
    • He claims it has to do with being a nightless knight.
    • If he had it his way, you would also be nightless.
  • Would literally die for his love.
  • Perfect partner in times of stress. He’s not super emotional in his own stresses, but he gets visibly upset over his partner’s and will do anything to resolve them.
  • Was Arthur’s choice for his replacement in case a new king needed to take the throne. While he isn’t a genius, he’s not an idiot by any stretch nor is he naive. 
    • He can see trouble coming from miles away and will not beat around the bush during issues. 
    • If he has concerns, he spits them out.

Chapter Text

  • Basically the Powerpuff Girls. 
    • Master is Blossom, Chevalier is Bubbles, Diarmuid is Buttercup. Together they fight crime and the forces of evil.
  • Inseparably close to one another. They’re more like a family than a friend-group at this point.
  • Lazy afternoons stretched across sofas with large bags of baby carrots and celery left open on the coffee table.
    • Super Smash(ed) Bros.
  • Visiting fancy places and pretending to be rich folks. Museums and botanical gardens are great favorites and offer a hybrid of history and beauty, much like the two servants accompanying Master to them.
    • “This fanciful work of art was created by the legendary Leonardo DaVinci! She is truly magnificent. I’ve thrilled in watching her inventions come together. Like that time she blew herself up in Camelot and survived.”
      • And the tour curator is like, “She??? What???”
  • Music, music, music. Though none of them are musicians in the slightest, they love going to the opera together and throwing down at festivals.
    • “I believe this is what they would call, ‘a banger’?”
    • “It most certainly is ‘a banger’!”
    • Master’s eyes roll so hard that they fall out of their head.
  • Master invests in a camera and a 128GB SD card early on in the friendship after realizing that neither of their companions have ever had access to photography.
    • Master and Chevalier surprise Diarmuid by learning how to use Photoshop to remove his cursed beauty mark in photos so he can share them.
    • “You don’t need a charm, we already love you as you are.”
    • Diarmuid cries.
    • Oh good lord for some reason Didney Worl’ is like a dream come true for this troublesome trio. Even though they’re 2 Heroic Spirits and one Somewhat Adult, the three of them thrill in the most magical place on Earth.
    • Chevalier takes pictures and videos of everything and everyone.
    • Disney Princesses are no match for Diarmuid of the Love Spot. He has to cover his face with a bandana most days they’re down there. But at least he doesn’t get sunburned? If Heroic Spirits can even be sunburned?
  • Successful YouTube vloggers.
    • In their defense, it wasn’t going to be a vlog channel at first but the entire internet gets hit by two charms and the squad has a ton of footage from their adventures. It made perfect sense.
    • But they also do history videos, and discuss their totally-fictional-experiences-as-servants-that-definitely-aren’t-heroes-from-history. 
    • Master’s camera gets use in every singularity they visit. 
      • Singularities are great if you’re trying to have fun and not fuck up the timeline of history.
    • They bring other servants onto the channel to interview and talk about history. People are pretty confused about all of this seemingly endless group of individuals “pretending” to be historical figures.
  • Adventures are photographed and shared on their ever-growing social media accounts.
  • Wear matching outfits un-ironically for fun.
    • Group Halloween costumes ONLY. 
    • Dressing up to coordinate together for any and all events. 
      • Diarmuid walks into an event with two lovely individuals in breathtaking gowns on his arm and the three of them are all the belles of the ball.
      • Alternatively, Master and Diarmuid in complementary suits & ties, Chevalier between them with two handsome men on their arms. 

Chapter Text

  • Rider is apprehensive about revealing her True Name, and for obvious reasons.
    • In the Nasuverse, Marie was both loved and hated in life and death as the ideal beautiful monarch that put her people first always. She was supposedly an “Idol Queen.”
    • In reality, Marie was well-liked until she started to show sympathy to enemies such as her home of Austria. Then people started to care about her questionable behaviors of promiscuity and wasteful spending of France’s funds. 
      • Caused controversy with her wasteful spending and supposed attempts to undermine France’s financial security by not supporting the changes she suggested.
      • Also she and the king tried to escape to start a counter-rebellion to fight off the French Revolution, but failed to get away. This pissed people off quite a bit.
    • Rider is well aware of these two separate timelines and that the vast majority of people know her name because of the second one.
  • Rider isn’t particularly intelligent or adept in combat. While she is a Heroic Spirit, her abilities are better suited for fighting battles of wits. This prevents her from revealing her Noble Phantasm, which wouldn’t have given away her identity but certainly would’ve hinted that she’s some sort of heretic.
  • Under the right master, Rider is able to use her excellent social skills to forge an alliance with another master-servant pair.
    • She becomes the de facto figurehead of their operations, playing as the public face of their plans. This protects the identities of the allied servant-master pair, as well as herself and her master.
    • Being an “idealized queen” is what she is best known for of course.
    • Utilizes any resources she must to ensure the safety of her companions.
    • Realizes that in the end she will end up taking the fall for these actions, and comes to terms with this early.
  • She drops hints about her identity throughout the Holy Grail War. She wistfully talks about her home in France, her husband, her various experiences–and she’s proud to have so many beautiful memories to share. Her only regret is having let her name be tarnished by her own foolishness. 
  • An interested master would easily find out her identity after the huge hints she dropped, but Rider prefers that Master never say her name aloud. 
    • “In this life, I wish to be remembered by my deeds and not my name. So long as that is fulfilled, I have no other wish for the Grail.”
  • Rider doesn’t reveal her identity until she inevitably crumbles in an unexpected battle with another servant. The enemy steals her away and forces Master to waste Command Spells trying to return her. The alliance seeks Rider out but never succeeds.
    • Even though Master and Rider can communicate telepathically, even though their bond is strong, it is not enough to lead Master to the place Rider is hidden.

“Master… I ask that you use your Command Spells to unleash my Noble Phantasm. I cannot use it in this place without them.”

“Do not be concerned about the outcome. My Noble Phantasm should be enough to hinder this enemy. Please allow me to do this as my final duty as your servant.”

“Thank you, Master. It has been an honor to stand by your side.”

“Master… Have I done the right thing? Have I done right on behalf of my people?”

“Ah… Yes, I certainly hope I have. Thank you, Master. Au revoir, mon chér. I believe we will meet again. Vive la France.”

Chapter Text

  • Not a fan of romantic relationships and sees them as largely unnecessary. Doesn’t mind the company, though, so she guesses it could be worse.
    • Romantic relationship is a social contract. It can be terminated at-will by either party. She will not attempt to influence your decisions in regard to this, nor should you try to influence hers.
  • Will spit out your cooking if it’s “too good.” The lady loves her snacks and isn’t afraid to remind you that barbecue chips are better than actual barbecue. 
  • Has no patience for petty arguments, jealousy, or infantile behavior. Were she younger and more light-hearted she may find those things endearing, but as an Alter she has low tolerance for annoyances. 
  • She feels no sense of obligation outside of the contract of the relationship… at first.
    • At the start it’s easy to say that food and mana are the only things she cares about. Under the surface she’s still carrying the Artoria ideals of protecting others and building a prosperous world for those she loves. 
    • It takes time, but those ideals slowly start to show through her responses to various situations. There are occasions when she seems more naive than ignorant about her emotions, and those bring about the realization that she’s still Artoria, just a lot more hardcore.
  • Checks activities and sexual escapades off a mental bucket-list.
  • Talks about anything and everything that you may bring  up. Has no boundaries on what is or isn’t acceptable topic of discussion.
    • “Subjects only become issues as a result of unwillingness to talk about them. For that reason I need to tell you that your living conditions are unacceptable and leaving such a stye out would make me believe you sleep with a Berserker and not a king.”
    • “What of it if you share a bed with me? I don’t see how that is relevant. As Master of Chaldea, you should aim to set a better example for your servants.”
  • You never see her go to bed or wake up. You only know she shares your bed because the weight of her body shifts throughout the night.
    • Goes to bed late, wakes up early. Such is the life of the busy King of Knights.
  • Sassy towards anyone that dares to question the nature of her relationship. Throws out underhanded comments in response, often shredding the dignity of the person making the comment.
  • Will eat all of your shared snack stash.
  • Will talk your ear off if you get her started on a topic that interests her.
  • Not a huge fan of going out on dates. Prefers to stay in, relax. Has enough on her back all the time. Your role in her life is as stability and peace.
  • “I don’t fully understand the way you experience this relationship, but I am glad to be sharing it with you. I look forward to whatever the future holds.”

Chapter Text

  • Of all his potential summoning forms, Caster Cu Chulainn makes for the most well-rounded romantic partner.
    • It has nothing to do with the fact he’s the only one that can win a Holy Grail War. It aggravates the other Cu forms that he’s a “fake” but gets to win a Grail War.
      • “It was a singularity. I don’t think it counts. If it bothers you that much, do better.”
    • Doesn’t go out of his way to be cute, or do super sweet things, or wow his partner, but he does all of those things better than his other forms. He may be unlikely to do them, but if he does do them they will be incredible.
    • Scathach had to confer and give him permission to use those runes. He may not be wielding Gae Bolg, but he still gets to smack people around with his staff. As a Caster he gets the best parts of his other forms (without the same shitty luck stat that results in his untimely demise).
  • Outdoorsy. Will drag partner camping.
    • Loves taking a partner on hikes and nature walks. Helps them scale trees and teaches them to rock-climb. Thrills in showing them this beautiful world he gets to use mage-craft in.
    • Skinny-dipping in lakes and rivers is an absolute must.
      • Those scenes in movies where nude people make out under a waterfall come to mind.
  • If things have at least a 50.01% chance of turning out favorably for him, he will go for it. This applies in his romantic relationships.
    • Takes the risk of asking to try new things with his partner, in and out of the bedroom. 
    • While he’s cool with routine, he doesn’t want to lose the sense of wonder that love allows him. 
    • Calculating his risks is important, but calculating the happiness of his partner is more important.
  • Even though it becomes expected of him to make the first move in most situations, he tends to do it when it’s least expected. 
    • This leads to behaving rather inappropriately in front of others, or leaving a partner flustered at a bad time.
  • The less he lets on about his feelings, the more he’s feeling. Unless he’s about to burst, in which case he will say exactly what he’s feeling.
    • Quite adept at expressing what he’s thinking when the situation calls for it. Would prefer to avoid opening his mouth if possible.
  • Communicative and agreeable. Will avoid conflict if possible, and doesn’t see a point to fighting in relationships. 
  • Protective. It can be overbearing, but he does make a conscious effort to try not to interrupt his partner’s life. 
    • He’d just… really like to know where they are at all times and it’s totally okay they have their own things going on, he doesn’t mind he’s concerned for their well-being.
    • If someone even so much as looks at his partner funny they’re getting a wooden stick to the face. 
      • “You’re never the first person someone treats like shit. If they made it this far behaving like that, they deserve the lesson in manners.
      • “Etiquette lessons can involve getting brutalized by a guy with a stick. Use your imagination.”
  • Loyal to a fault. Were he to catch his partner lying etc, he would struggle to separate himself from them. Attachment runs deep, and peeling back layers when he’s hurt is impossible. He’d rather sit in discomfort than move in pain. 
  • Couldn’t fathom behaving in a manner that led a partner to feel scared or afraid or violated, so he figures he doesn’t have to worry about getting stuck with someone acting like an ass. 

Chapter Text

Fifth Holy Grail War

  • Saber is initially wary of Rin. The girl is serious and strong, but she has an abrasive attitude that doesn’t vanish even when Saber is polite. This leads to them not hitting it off as well as Rin would’ve hoped.
    • But at least she’s not Kiritsugu. 
  • Starting from a point of total misunderstanding of each other, time plants a seed of mutual respect.
    • Rin is thrilled about summoning the strongest servant and honoring her father. Said servant is thrilled about having an adept mage as her master–especially one that doesn’t want to assassinate fucking everybody.
    • Rin doesn’t have a wish for the Holy Grail. Saber has the knowledge that the Grail is tainted and won’t get her wish.
    • Fighting with honor and skill is important to both of them. Battlefields are proving grounds.
    • Shared backstories involving a traumatic childhood and the crushing weight of unavoidable responsibility. 
  • Neither of them says it aloud, but they each wax and wane in each other’s dreams. Rin uncovers Saber’s identity. Saber sees Rin’s pain. They begin to come to a middle-ground.
  • They become a dream team. Artoria thrives when she’s able to make her own choices. In exchange for total freedom, Rin expects some amount of obedience when the situation calls. They fight in a coordinated, but ultimately independent, fashion.
  • Their confrontations stem from Rin criticizing Artoria’s ideals.
    • Even though this Holy Grail cannot make Artoria’s wish come true, she still yearns for it. 
    • Rin feels her servant’s heart ache for Camelot. She wishes she could just slap sense into Saber and be done with it.
      • “I don’t understand why you’d want to lessen the value of all the sacrifices that were made to build your kingdom. If you go back and erase the end, the meaning of your life and the lives of those that fought for you disappears. Your actions no longer have consequence or purpose. I would suggest rethinking your position before we get to the Holy Grail, Saber.”
    • Artoria loathes Rin’s worldview. This isn’t the only topic they disagree on, but each one they do disagree on stems from their ideas of morality and fate and free will and it annoys Artoria to argue with a living person about it.


  • Rin supplies sufficient mana just by existing. 
    • Near the end of the war, before their final battle together, Rin wants to ensure that Artoria has the ability to pull off even the most impossible of feats. 
    • She offers herself to Artoria, who is rightfully shocked. At first Artoria refuses to eat her, but then Rin clarifies that she means physical intimacy. 
      • Rin is well aware that it is the semen of a magus that naturally allows for the transfer of magical energy. So is Artoria.
      • They go through with it anyway, both knowing that the other knows that the pretense for this interaction is completely incorrect. 
      • Rin still pulls some cool mage-craft stunts and manages to use bodily fluids to transfer magical energy. Neither of them can believe it works but it lets them keep pretending that they aren’t genuinely enjoying each other’s company.
    • It was a long night. Neither knows when it started or when it ended. They talked and explored and touched and shared and it was magical.
  • So obviously they win the Holy Grail War, then they destroy the Lesser Grail together. 
    • Artoria pledges her loyalty as a knight to Rin for eternity and swears to answer her summons for all of time. They share an incredible, romantic moment for the history books.
    • Except it’s awkward because Saber doesn’t disappear. They attribute it to the Angra Mainyu Holy Grail eating six other servants and Gilgamesh. 
    • Both are mortified, but happy that Artoria gets to stay. Rin complains that it ruins the moment, but Artoria doesn’t care. She holds Rin close and thanks her for believing in the dreams of Camelot.
  • Rin still goes on to dismantle the Greater Grail with Waver Velvet.
    • When meeting with Waver at the Clock Tower for the first time, she brings Artoria with her. Artoria finally gets to return home. 
  • “Yeah but what about Avalon?” 
    • Shirou returned Avalon to Artoria near the beginning of the Holy Grail War when he met her. 
    • Rin took her time to get Shirou to notice the literal Holy scabbard inside of him. When he finally accepted it, she told him that he didn’t need it, but its owner sure did.
    • Artoria asks Rin to carry Avalon inside her, so that they will always have each other.

“Rin Tohsaka. It has been an honor to act as your sword. Thank you. Were the Grail not an object of evil, I would wish for the chance to serve you further. You were the ideal master. I can think of no one I would have rather fought beside. Please, allow me…”

“For you, I will develop my life for the greater good. I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend you when cannot defend yourself, I will honor and respect you, I will be faithful in your love and loyal in your friendship. I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy to you and honor in your name from this day forward.”

“It’s… a version of the Pentecostal Oath which the Knights of the Round Table took when serving. Do you like it?”

“I will remain by your side so long as you will have me… Forever? That’s a long time. It would be my honor.”

Chapter Text

  • Sufficiently unhappy that Master is gone. She’s not a fan of having a master in the first place, but she’d grown accustomed to having them around.
  • Stealing JAlter’s master is widely regarded as a poor decision. She will burn quite literally anything that stands between her and Master.
    • Master had some goddamn nerve getting stolen away.
    • The culprit had some goddamn nerve stealing Master.
  • There’s an uncomfortable and bitter feeling toward Master, as her altered form dislikes being under another’s command, but the idea of failure is far worse. 
    • Especially if it involves failing someone that has partial control over them. And that person is serving you in your quest to reach your own goals despite not agreeing with your goals.
      • “If only you were less agreeable, then I’d be happy to let you go like this. Ugh.”
  • Sends out dragons to find Master while she prepares a plan of attack to retrieve them. 
    • When the dragons are unable to find any new information, she sends out Gilles de Rais to dig it up.
    • When Gilles de Rais fails, Jeanne fries him like chicken.
  • Mounts one of her faithful dragons and seeks out Master herself. She uses the connection made through their pact to track their magical energy.
    • Master has been captured and tortured underground for all this time they’ve been apart. Their traces of magical energy are weak. Their spirit is frail. 
    • Jeanne sees red.
  • Commands her army of dragons to destroy the earth barricading her from Master’s captor. The ground shakes. Claws rip up dirt. Grass vaporizes. Flowers bend to the beat of wings.
  • The captor looks up from their cement pit, covering their eyes at the shock of sunlight. Master is chained to a wall and has been beaten bare. Their skin is as tattered as their clothes.
  • Leaps off the back of her dragon and lands in the pit on both feet. She rises slowly. Ominously. Fire crackles in her eyes and hands. The captor attempts to escape but dragons block every possible escape route above ground and collapse the rocks to plug up tunnels.
  • Mutilates the captor’s body and tears them limb from limb in a series of graphic events. Obliterates any remnants of the catacombs, burying it under mountains of rubble.
  • Doesn’t admit it, but is glad to have retrieved Master and returned to somewhat-normality. She even aids them in their recovery process.
    • Things are easier when she has access to the person with Command Seals.

“Oh no, you poor thing, not knowing what type of trouble you’d get yourself in. Here’s me feeling so bad for you. Tch. Imbeciles like you make me sick. You were torn between feigning evil or intelligence, and so your choice was made by circumstance. Congratulations, idiot.”

“Ahhh, Master. Rescuing you has been a chore… Wh-what? I did not save you for your sake! This is done for my own benefit. If not for your exceptional abilities and mana reserves I would’ve left you here here to die. You have those stupid Command Seals. I’d be dead if you were.”

“Egh. If you insist… It’s good to have found you. Sorry it took so long. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”

Chapter Text

  • A man’s greatest legacy is the mark he leaves behind on the world. Gilgamesh has no shortage of feats that follow his name, all of which he wears proudly. 
  • After finding someone worthy of his affection, he decides that it would bring him satisfaction to have an heir to continue his work.
  • Doesn’t want to be called dad or daddy even though it’s his biological child. The word is disrespectful considering his position.
  • He previously had a physical form in the modern world and has no trouble adapting to it once more. His lover is a magus, and is more than happy to keep him out of spirit form. 
  • The child has dark hair and bright eyes, the perfect combination of their parents. They are human with no properties as a servant. They are inclined toward mage-craft and learn quickly.
  • Gil’s child will want for nothing. Any books, toys, or treasures they wish for will be given to them. But Gil will make it clear that this is not with the intention of spoiling, as misbehavior results in those nice things being taken away.
    • “A ruler must be willing to accept what belongs to them. They will one day have to protect it. You are responsible for your own behavior. Now apologize, and we can go get ice cream.”
  • Experiences everywhere. He will ensure that his child is filled with opportunities and given the best that life has to offer. 
    • Education. Dining. Comfort. Living space. Travel. Everything imaginable will be better for his child than any other child ever.
  • Wants his child to know what they will be inheriting. Introduce them to some of the least-detested servants he fought beside in Chaldea, and takes them to various kingdoms throughout time and history.
    • Kiddo doesn’t know how to explain that they’re traveling through space and time to their teachers and classmates. It comes out in fanciful stories written during class. The teacher is concerned that Gilgamesh’s child has a wild imagination.
    • “You’ve done excellent work lately. It’s time to start seeing what your work will turn into. How would you like to visit a royal palace? …Yes, I happen to know a few kings that would love to meet you. Amazing? Tch. They’re nothing compared to where I resided, but I admit they are rather nice.”
  • When the little one is injured, Gil quietly takes care of them without admitting it makes him feel like a commoner. He tries to dump it off on his lover. It never works. 
  • Gilgamesh goes hardcore in the Parent Teacher Association. There is no parent more supportive in the PTA and he will casually donate tons of money to organizations supporting his child’s interests. This is at a private institution, too, and he still looks like he’s growing money on trees. 
  • The child will develop hobbies, and Gil will support them as long as they don’t inconvenience him too much. But if the kid wants to take music lessons, gosh darn it they will complete those lessons and they will practice and they will be the best. 
    • “Wasted opportunity is wasted time. You can have the entire world if you will it. …You need to learn the fundamentals first. That applies to all things. Now get back to your scales.
  • The child will make friends, and Gil will be the coolest dad on the block. House parties, sleepovers, movie nights, whatever is asked of him will be done up better than anyone else could do it.
    • Gil even goes out of his way to have their manor transformed into a real haunted house during Halloween and allows the entire neighborhood to stop by. The palatial living room is the exit space, and it’s filled with snacks and candy and beverages for kids and adults alike. There’s music and dancing and masquerade and real live horrors.
      • Has Heroic Spirits stop by to participate in the haunted house in exchange for a reward and attendance at the party. For this he’d demand attendance from the Hassans, King Hassan, Heracles, Semiramis… Anyone with the potential to be disturbing to the general population. (Please imagine Gramps in a costume contest.)
      • Invites other Heroic Spirits to get Heroic Spir-LIT. Might invite Ozymandias, Enkidu, Nero, Artoria, Karna, Arjuna, Ereshkigal (specifically as a screw-you to Ishtar), Iskandar… Pretty much anyone that he finds tolerable. 
      • But he’ll accept Heroic Spirits and neighbors coming without invites because it gives him an excuse to brag about how amazing his party is and how lucky his partner and child are.
      • Gil’s kid loves Halloween.
    • Gil also throws huge holiday parties for his child and their friends, ensuring that they get to celebrate the pleasures of life. Like wine, and beautiful people, and food, and fun…
      • In a safe household under parental supervision and excuse me mongrel children can you not touch that it’s worth more than your life!

Chapter Text

My lord… The gratitude that fills me when I think of your kindness, when I remember all you’ve done for me, is overwhelming. 

I am fortunate to have served you.  You allowed me to watch over you. You allowed me to accompany you on your journeys. You invited me to sit at the Round Table with the greatest knights in all of history. And, in your passing, you entrusted me with the return Excalibur to you in Avalon.

A lifetime later and I’ve never seen you smile. I wonder if you can. Your fate was set like sword in stone from the time you were little. It was unfair of the world to place its weight on your tiny shoulders.  Had it not, though, I would have never gained the opportunity to stand by you.

How many knights can claim that they were the first knight of King Arthur’s Round Table?  None other. Only me. “Sir Bedivere, first Knight of the Round Table: the Caretaker of King Arthur!” It has a nice ring to it, does it not? Aha! I am sure this bothers Gawain to no end. 

I was nothing in battle compared to your other knights, yet you chose me to fight at your side. There are timelines in which I failed to return Excalibur to you, where you ended up cursed by the Holy Lance, where the entire world nearly collapsed because of my falter. 

It is astonishing to me, how the actions of one can impact history so completely. I suppose that is what makes you such a remarkable king.

Thank you, my liege, for all you have done, for all you have permitted me to do. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for letting me be… your friend. 

I have pledged myself to the Round Table, to Camelot, and to the Holy Sword. I only wish I could pledge myself to you, Artoria Pendragon, and not the King of Camelot.

I am forever your first Knight, and I shall be your last.

Chapter Text


  • Will love you with the intensity of all the white-hot stars in the sky. 
  • Will push you to pursue your hopes and dreams, even if they seem impossible, and will always try to help make them come true.
  • Would insist on meeting your friends and family in your original timeline.
    • Your friends and family would all adore him, but be unsure as to what it was that made them feel that way. Something to do with his charisma? The goatee maybe?
    • Both parents would want to sleep with him. He’d reject both and explain that their behavior was inappropriate and disrespectful to their child.
    • Parents would be mortified, but you’d be starstruck by his strength of character.
  • Over-the-top at every opportunity. Super extra. 
    • Huge birthdays and holiday parties. 
    • Lavish gifts and incredible experiences. 
    • Caught up in the heat of the moment and enthusiastic with PDA. Will squeeze you half to death. EX-Rank hugs.
    • “To stretch beyond the limits of the imagination is the very purpose of love. It is that which pushes us to the farthest stretches and beyond, Maître. My desire for you is no exception.”
  • Easy-going and hard to upset. He doesn’t want to be an emotional punching bag, but he can withstand the brunt of others’ sorrow. 
    • Losses, troubles, failures–none of these are a match for the one and only Napoleon Bonaparte!
      • “So long as I am here, you have nothing to fear! Your struggles will have hell to pay… I assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of, but nonetheless you may have my shoulder.”
    • Will fire rainbow cannon Noble Phantasm at your issues. 
  • Loves dates. Loves extravagance. Loves to spoil. If you ever wanted to be a sugar baby, now’s your shot.
    • Except you’re actually in a relationship.
    • So you’re just spoiled.
  • Likes to ruffle your hair and tease you in good humor. No cruel jokes or insults. Not sarcastic. He just likes to poke at how adorable and easily-flustered you are.
  • Will carry you if your feet are tired.
    • Or if they’re not. He just likes to sweep you off your feet.
  • Lets his partner set the pace of the relationship.

Romance With Male Master

  • Treats a male partner the same as he would a female–his love doesn’t discriminate. 
    • If anything is different, it would be that he is more affectionate towards a male partner. 
    • Though consent is always mandatory, he finds that he’s able to get away with rougher play with a male partner.
      • Play wrestling. Role-play. Doing everything together. 
      • Invest in an apron and cute tighty-whiteys. He’s all about seeing you be domestic.
  • Proud of having such a strong-willed, intelligent man for his companion. Sees you as his equal (except on the battlefield because Heroic Spirit). 
  • If you’re willing to learn, he will teach you everything he can about his adventures, and show you the secrets of his Noble Phantasm. 
  • Still a big goofy romantic. Luxury, lavishness, and love.
  • Still wants to meet your family. He’s open about his true identity, and neither of your parents believe him. 
    • “A pleasure to meet you! I am Napoleon Bonaparte, Frenchman and perpetual adventurer! …You are quite right! I do not look like my historical depictions. I am fortunate to have been revisioned by the Holy Grail in a form that better suits my nature.”
    • Your mother will roll with it because it’s not her business. Your father will be skeptical. And that’s okay, because skepticism is healthy. But Napoleon understands that and will happily win them over.
  • Tops or power-bottoms depending on his partner’s preference.
    • You’re the only one allowed to call him your majesty.

Chapter Text


  • Used to being scorned for her role as Goddess of the Underworld. She has been insulted by the gods, left alone in the dark since the beginning of time. She’s neglected because of the role she was given by fate, a fate she has no choice but to fulfill.
  • To have lived in the shadow of Ishtar (Innana) her entire existence has left her emotions fragile and heart sore.
  • Reluctant to develop friendships with others. Wary of their kindness and suspicious of their motivations. 
  • Getting under her skin is a good time. The longer you are honest and loyal in your friendship, the more she will open up about her frustrations. 
    • Loves to complain. Will talk your ear off if you let her.
  • As a master, you get a head start on developing the bond of trust. She’s willing to work with you because of the nature of your pact. 
    • “E-excuse me! I am the Queen of the Great Below! Hmph. Looking at me like I’m some sort of… frail young lady. I don’t need your friendship… but I will not reject you.”
    • Something about Ereshkigal feels rather familiar, like she’s reminiscent of a life-long friend. 
      • Dislikes being picked on, but fine with picking on you.
      • Loathes the thought of any negativity befalling you. 
      • Ears turn bright red when she’s embarrassed.
      • Fiercely loyal. You will have her companionship until the day you die. Then after you die, she will have you!
  • Bridging the gap between your pact and becoming friends is nothing compared to building a romantic relationship. It is a Herculean task. She is not initially amused by your antics.
  • Time goes on, things change. Ereshkigal becomes more comfortable with the idea of serving you for eternity. 
  • The inevitability of her position is not lost on her, but it isn’t frightening anymore. She’s grown stronger than she thought imaginable. Your care, the care of a tender master, lead to her ascending beyond her wildest dreams.
    • Now that she has found peace within herself, she seeks to make peace with Ishtar and the gods that shunned her. 
    • Her role in the underworld is now one that she plays with pride, and she only asks that you remain by her side while she rules. 


  • Consciously aware of her attraction to all body types since her creation. Could be that she shares an existence with another woman, or that she’s transcended beyond mortal ideas of sexuality. 
  • You fuck with a goddess, you get the… demons of the underworld?
    • She promises she won’t summon demons during intimacy, but it can be tempting. Imagine the beauty of making love under a cloudy sky full of batting black wings.
    • The netherworld is her home. She’s sensitive about it. Go easy on her. 
  • Never gets over how uncomfortable she is naked. And when you soak in her body with your eyes, she yanks the sheets over herself.
    • “D-don’t look at me with such a hungry expression! You should be doting, and respectful of my wishes. I am simply doing this as my obligation as a servant!”
  • Loving and romantic. She wants to feel wanted, and gets off most on the idea that you see her and only her. Eye contact is great for this, as is touching your forehead to hers and giving Eskimo kisses. 
  • Enjoys being the one receiving, but is happy to reciprocate to please her partner. 
    • If she had to choose, though, she’d always be on the receiving end.
    • It’s not meant as a slight to you, she just really likes knowing that someone is going out of their way for her.
  • Goddamn does she love sitting on your face. 
    • Tangling her fingers in your hair, pulling you closer, grinding her lips against yours, having the freedom to set the pace… 

“‘Fucking’ is such a vulgar way to describe a beautiful union between people. Ick. It’s lovemaking. Or consummating. Or anything that is not that disgusting word. Why are you trying to taint our passion with obscenities? Do you enjoy embarrassing me? …Ow! Hey! Don’t bite me there! OW! I wasn’t ready!”

Chapter Text

“Master,” he asks, “do you believe in fate?”

Master laughs. “That’s a pretty loaded question given the series we exist in. I think I’m obligated to say yes.

“That is not quite what I meant.” Bedivere frowns and and hangs his head. “I mean, how much control does one have over their own actions? Does that control matter if we lose it in a number of other timelines?”

“Bedivere…” Master plants their hand on his shoulder. He jolts upright. “Whoa! Sorry.”

“Ah! No, it’s fine, Master. You are allowed to touch me.”

Master leans their head against his. He stiffens at the closeness. He is often near Master, but they are in noticeable proximity of him and it’s only a little terrifying.

“I was going to say that I think fate is irrelevant,” Master states. They twirl their fingers through the servant’s silver hair. It falls through their fingers like silk.

Bedivere relaxes and stretches their arm out behind Master. “During Camelot,” he mutters, “I realized how heavy my actions were. I spent thousands of years trying to track down the Lion King.” He bites his lip. “Because I failed to return Excalibur, the King turned into… something else entirely. I wonder how much of that is my fault, or how much I was destined to do.”

Master wraps themselves around Bedivere’s arm. He spikes a fever. 

“What do you want that answer to be?” Master asks. 

The knight tilts his neck back and gazes into the sky. Fluffy white clouds speckle the bright blue abyss. 

I would make a terrible cloud, he thinks, for I worry far too often.

He says, “I wish to believe that my actions are meaningful. My service as the caretaker to King Arthur is my proudest accomplishment. I don’t know how I feel about all of society collapsing as a consequence of my mess.”

“Who could’ve possibly known that it would turn the king into a divine being with no heart or soul?” Master nudges Bedivere. “Whether you were fated to screw up or not, I don’t think it matters.”

His stomach sinks. “I want to believe it does. I revel in believing in those things greater than ourselves.”

Master reaches for his hand and holds it close. His skin prickles. The hair prods at Master like a porcupine. Each finger slides across the dry ridges and bloated callouses. Patches are rough as leather.

“Why does it have to be about something greater? It could be something far worse, for all you know,” Master says.

“I suppose that’s true. But what point is there to purposely creating failure? Why would they manufacture a timeline in which I’m destined to fail and the end of civilization will be on my shoulders?” Bedivere frowns. His lip quivers. 

Master brings his hand to their lips and plants light kisses on the knuckles. “You know how you spent like a thousand years trying to return Excalibur and kept screwing up?”

He throws his arms up in defeat. “Yes, I mentioned that a moment again and do not need to be reminded.”

“Right, well,” Master says, “I think the gods go through something similar. They don’t get the events right on the first try, either. I’m sure there is a part of reality that benefits from the Lion King vaporizing everyone.”

Bedivere reels back, appalled. “What good comes of that?!”

Master shrugs. “If we never get to my era, the ozone layer doesn’t fall apart because the greenhouse effect doesn’t trap us all in a bubble of carbon waiting to burst like the student debt crisis, and the icecaps don’t melt… and the world doesn’t become an overpopulated, inefficiently-zoned patch of land about to be flooded by said melting icebergs in the coming generations.”

Only one of the knight’s eyebrows pop up in curiosity. Because what master said makes very little sense. And he is confused. He has no idea what any of that means, but he chooses to believe Master and nod in agreement anyway.

“Trust me, Bedivere. You don’t want to live in a world without polar bears.” 

The two of them lean on each other and stare longingly out into the distance. 

Chapter Text

  • For better or worse, there’s never a dull minute with the King of Conquerers.
  • A relationship dynamic with Iskandar is not the contemporary partnership grind. 
  • Remember, he’s already had countless partner and lived a lavish life as he traipsed across the East. 
    • Difficult to think about, but if not for the fact he’s a Heroic Spirit he’d likely bed people without thinking twice about it.
    • This is with no disregard to you, nor is it any intentional offense. If something needs to be conquered, he conquers it.
    • It’s a good idea to discuss your mutual expectations, otherwise this will go poorly (for you, because if you don’t bring it up he’ll assume things are fine).
    • Respectful of your wishes once they’re made known. He’ll tell you if your “rules” don’t make sense, though, and will question them. 
    • You may not ever see perfectly eye-to-eye on monogamy.
  • Petty disagreements don’t interest him. He won’t waste time arguing with you. If you’re venting, he absorbs your words and considers them carefully before responding. 
    • Chooses his wording cautiously, because he knows how to play the social-political game.
    • Not trying to upset you by telling you you’re being unreasonable, but you’re being unreasonable.
  • Sees the partnership as camaraderie, as “two heads are better than one.” You are his vessel in battle and loyalest companion everywhere else.
    • Promises you’re not a conquest.
  • Will carry you everywhere over his arm or shoulder like a gym towel.
  • Enjoys traveling in the transport modes provided by your era. 
    • Fascinated by airplanes, but he’s rather large and hits his head so you have to keep him in spirit form. He is displeased by this.
    • Buses are the easiest for him to participate in like a regular-sized human being. Never sits, because he never wants to take a seat someone less fortunate could use.
  • Competitive game nights with you and other servants. Board games, card games, video games, doesn’t matter. 
    • Incredible at every video game he plays. When did he even have time to get this good?
    • A+ Rank Poker Face because he acts goofy all the time.
  • Enjoys having you in his lap. It makes him feel even bigger to see his partner so small and vulnerable and needing protection. 
    • Not jealous or overprotective, though. He makes sure you know that you’re in charge of your own actions and he accepts no responsibility for your behaviors.
  • Travels with you in your time period. Enjoys being a visitor as opposed to a tourist, but he’ll still buy into every exciting tourist trap you ask him not to.
    • Experiences cities for all they have to offer. 
    • Gets to know locals and becomes friendly with them. Casually integrates questions about the political landscape and considers taking over every single place ever.
    • “While I don’t understand your era, I find it fascinating. You’ve reached the peak of globalization, more than any point in history, yet leaders choose to battle over religion and ideals of all things… Seems a little ridiculous.”
  • Let this man see the goddamn ocean. 
    • Please.
    • If you don’t, you are the Worst Timeline, Sparks Liner High levels of torture.
    • Even if you have a phobia of open water, sharing in his greatest vision with him is the most up-close and intimate he will ever feel with another person.

“Ah. Okeanos. At last… It’s more marvelous than I ever imagined. Let us toast to this magnificent view!  …I was referring to my master against the backdrop of the sea, spread across the stars. Though Okeanos will never belong to me, I will forever own this image. No other man will experience this beauty. This time with you is my greatest conquest, Master.”

Chapter Text

The Master of Chaldea and King of Heroes traveled the wasteland on bare feet.

Master tugged on the shawl draped over their left shoulder and crossed it more tightly over their chest. 

Their gown brushed their ankles, and they grabbed a chunk of the skirt fabric to hold it higher above the sand. A collection of gold and silver jewelry adorned their ears and wrists and collar. They thought they might topple over. Whether it would be from heat or exhaustion was yet to be determined.

“The outfit is appropriate,” Gilgamesh said. “You almost wear it well.”

Master rolled their eyes. “I don’t know how your people dressed like this. The heat here is almost as unbearable as the company.”

With one hand fisted in their skirt and the other acting as a visor, Master followed the servant’s lead through hot sand. They wondered if it’d be appropriate to complain to him about the hospitality conditions.

“It’s a shame that the city was unable to remain standing,” he said, “Contemporary architects could learn a valuable lesson in aesthetic pleasures.”

“It has nothing to do with your ego, of course.”

The king gazed wistfully looked out into the desert, opening his arms to the sunlight. Even with no visible landmarks, he was guiding Master effortlessly, as if nothing had changed. 

“In a city as expansive as Uruk, there are subjects with talents beyond those anywhere else. Life’s greatest luxuries could be found: art, literature, and history were significant to Sumerian culture. The written word started here.”

Master interrupted him. “Did you get that out of a tourism guide?”

“Tch. I am only stating the truth. You should be thanking me. If you are uninterested, you have no business here.” He waved his hand in the general direction of nowhere, smirking just the same.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Please, continue.”

“The finest of the world’s offerings were within the city’s walls. It was home to tens of thousands of men. Uruk was at the center of high-end mercantilism. All of Mesopotamia was envious of the civilization built in Uruk, and remains even in afterlife as Uruk has become the model for modern society.”

Master found the shift in Gilgamesh’s attitude endearing. He spoke of Uruk the way a child speaks of imaginary worlds. 

They felt thankful to be as close to the King of Heroes as they were. No other human alive would have the opportunity to visit the world’s first great city with its most famous king. No other master in a Holy Grail War would share the same camaraderie with him. 

The pair stopped before the remains of a ziggurat, one that once stood at the entrance to the city of Uruk.

“What do you think?” Master asked. “Is it just like you remember it?”

Gilgamesh folded his arms. “Time has not been kind to this place. A pity.”

Master laughed. “Yeah, a few thousand years will do that.”

Dragonfly wings fluttered in his stomach. Master followed all this way on foot knowing the city was rubble, yet still wanted him to see it. Him seeing the remnants of his home was more important than their own comfort, and more important than the time spent traveling.

He wrapped his arm around Master’s shoulder and pulled them to his side. They stumbled into his body.

“Whoa! What was that for?” 

The king pressed his finger to their lips and shushed them. “You are gifted by my presence at the start of history. You’re welcome.”

Likable Gilgamesh was gone as soon as he’d arrived. 

They stayed standing like that, master leaning on servant. Gil told more tales and helped visualize where things were within the city walls, going so far as to walk Master over to important sites that dissolved into history.

conspicuous blue sign was planted in the ground a few feet away. 

“The first written words started here.” 

Chapter Text

  • When Master invites him to join on a journey to a new singularity, Diarmuid doesn’t even consider refusing. Visiting a new place with his closest companion is an opportunity he’d never deny.
  • He is surprised, to say the least, when they arrive at a place that is not new to him. He didn’t recall Ireland having any sort of history-breaking events that would potentially cause the end of humanity.
  • Master explains that this singularity is safe, and that they are only visiting to complete a short mission. Diarmuid accepts this answer and follows them without question.
  • As they travel side-by-side, Diarmuid recalls his days as a Knight of Fianna. When Master starts injecting information they learned during their research, the spearman is pleasantly surprised.
    • “I see you’ve been doing some reading. I’m honored that you have taken the time to learn about me, Master.”
    • “Most of us were young aristocrats or nobles that hadn’t come into our own yet. Men and women alike, battling side-by-side. Fionn was the last leader before the end of the Fianna. He was a greater force than any nation’s king.”
  • Diarmiud points out landmarks and oddities he notices as they travel. It’s endearing to listen to him share his adventures. The first-hand recount is far more exciting than the history books.
  • They reach the ruins of Dunluce Castle in County Antrim after nearly a day of traveling on foot together. Diarmuid is confused by this choice in destination, but still follows Master across the bridge to the basalt outcropping.
    • In this singularity the ruins are barren and are long beyond their days of protection by the Northern Ireland Environment Agency.
  • Master pulls Diarmuid into the center of the cobblestone ruins and laces their fingers with his. He tilts his head in curiosity, and listens to Master speak.

“Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, your role surpasses that of a servant and a knight,” Master says, squeezing his fingers in their own. “You are my friend. You are my partner. And I am grateful for you every day.”

Diarmuid smiles. “I’m flattered by your words, but you do not need to say these things to me. I am unworthy of your companionship.”

Master steps into his personal space. They maintain eye contact, deliberately never glancing at his beauty mark. He stiffens, but does not shy away.

“I disagree. There is no one more worthy, and no one I want to have it more than you. There is other no person, alive or dead, that I want to share my life with.” 

“Master, I…”

“Your stubbornness is going to ruin the moment if you keep talking.”

He laughs. “I apologize. Continue.”

“I am trying to say that I love you. I wish to pledge my loyalty to you as your master, your friend, and your lover.”

Diarmuid’s face catches on fire. He rips a hand away and covers his mouth.

Honor. Flattery. Confusion. Fear. Wariness. Isolation. Despair. Betrayal.

“Should you allow me to serve you,” Master continues, “there will be not a day moving forward where you will be alone. My magic will be your sword, and my heart will be your shield. I swear to never take your kindness or strength for granted, and I will pay your acts of heroism forward. I wish to be all the good in the world. There is no one I want to share that dream with other than you.”

His eyes sparkle, threatening tears. He pulls Master to his chest and wraps his arms around them. They feel so fragile and human and mortal and beautiful. There is uncertain tension in the hug at first, but he exhales the breath he’s been holding for eternity and relaxes.

Admiration. Respect. Adoration. Gratitude. Joy. Trust. Love.

“I do not deserve this, Master. But if it is what you wish, I will follow you to the end of time. My heart is yours. Thank you. I am overwhelmed. I hope to make you happy all my days.”

Chapter Text

  • Is there a rune for making fish speak human language? Or translate human language into fish? No? That’s a shame. Cu Chulainn’s Caster form is a bit of a druid, and druids are able to learn Speak with Animals. So why can’t he?
  • He wants to make sure you both get the most out of the experience. Cu requests a tour guide to tag along on the date. The guide ends up being a brilliant, hilarious elderly volunteer with a spring in their step. 
    • You have concerns about an elderly tour-guide, but a little low-key mage-craft guarantees that they will be safe and comfortable during their shift. They have no idea, but Cu thinks your considerate behavior is ridiculously sweet. 
  • The two of you hang on the volunteer’s every word from start to finish, absorbed in the aquarium’s history and significance to the community. 
    • Both of you want to reward this volunteer somehow, but they refuse compensation, stating that they just enjoy feeling like they have a place here.
    • This reminds Cu of his mentor. She’s not one to accept the kindness of others, either. She’d tell him to “do what needs to be done because it needs to be done.” Maybe volunteers educating the public are performing a similar task.
  • After the tour, you make one more trip around the facility. Alone. Together. With no suspicious ulterior motives at all whatsoever.
    • You take selfies in front of exhibits, using runes to make your own photo filters in real life. This is as dangerous as it is effective.
    • Cu pretends he can communicate with the fish and leads you on for a good five minutes before you realize he’s messing with you. 
  • There’s an archway of water built as a tunnel from one end of the aquarium to the other. The tank is massive, spreading farther than you can see through the foggy glass. It’s full of fish and flora and there are big round manatees floating by, bopping their noses against the glass. 
    • You press your own nose to the glass and make eye contact with a baby water potato. You take turns tilting your heads at each other and spinning in circles.
  • Cu watches you with a mix of amusement and adoration. You are so preciousThere is nothing out there sweeter than you
  • A clump of flowers tumbles by and the beauty inspires your love to pull you over into a kiss under the sea. Both of you glow inside and out.

Chapter Text

  • Reminiscent of a certain pair of characters that battled in the 5th Fuyuki Holy Grail War, Gudao and Gudako act as foils to each other. Their strengths compensate for each other’s weaknesses, and their personalities balance each other out. Where Guado is reserved and calculated, Gudako is vibrant and reckless. 
  • Gudako thrills in making her brother’s life difficult. If Gudao is called upon, Gudako will race to arrive before him then poke fun at him for being late. If Gudao is trying to have a serious moment, she’ll go out of her way to ruin it. 
    • The intention isn’t to make him look bad, but she feels obligated as his sister to remind him that she exists. 
    • It’s extremely difficult to forget Gudako exists.
  • Gudao plays a protective role over his sister, which drives her up the wall. She’s just as much the Master of Chaldea as he is, but he insists on sticking by her whenever he can. He likes that it annoys her, but wishes she’d be more appreciative.
    • He lays down the law with servants that show predatory behaviors toward her. Evil servants don’t take the threats seriously, but thankfully Gudao bears handy-dandy-spells-of-commanding. 
  • The siblings don’t hang out as often as they want to. They have different schedules, different missions, and different teams that they work with. Both would be embarrassed admitting that they missed each other.
    • Gudao wakes up early and starts his day like a good magus.
    • Gudako locks herself in her room until the last possible minute.
    • Gudao is surrounded by a healthy mix of servants and personalities.
    • Gudako is attracted to all of her high-bond servants.
  • When they have time to relax together, the dynamic guda-duo like to relax and avoid responsibilities. A shared-favorite pastime involves them being splayed across the common area couches tossing popcorn and candy into each other’s mouths… until someone calls for them and they escape to one of their rooms with snacks in tow.
  • A strange thought, but Gudao goes to Gudako for relationship and romantic advice. He assumes she’s an expert by now with all those weird comics she reads. This mortifies her because she doesn’t have the experience she boasts about. It doesn’t stop her from trying to give her brother the best wisdom she can, and she learns a lot vicariously through him.

Chapter Text

  • Amakusa Shirou is no stranger to war. At 17 years old he lead the Shimabara Rebellion against the Shogunate–the last feudal military government of Japan. As a child he was exposed to the missionaries in his neighborhood and grew into a charismatic young man. People attributed miracles to him, and called him “heaven’s messenger.”
  • His life experiences and past summonings have prepared him for this battle. He will take a quiet back-seat to a fiery master and enjoy watching them navigate the Holy Grail War. If necessary he will steal the lead from  his master. He’s well aware that they’re too stubborn to hand it over.
    • This isn’t meant maliciously, but as a way of ensuring his master’s victory.
  • He’s amused by his master’s attitude. Their penchant for justice is familiar to him. A young master like this will remind Amakusa of himself, to the point that it makes him uncomfortable. A more experienced master will alleviate his fears.
  • Master’s conviction is refreshing. Amakusa yields to their wishes and chooses to work with them in-tandem as opposed to parallel. He thrills in fighting alongside someone as passionate as he is. The two learn to play to each other’s strengths in battles, and it results in an unstoppable force of goodness.
  • Their relationship is also dictated by whether Amakusa is summoned as a Ruler or Avenger. 
    • As an Avenger he is self-righteous, and likely to cop an attitude with a master he doesn’t see eye-to-eye with. He will fight with them if it means furthering his own mission of change. 
    • As a Ruler he is diplomatic and willing to compromise when necessary to achieve his goals. It’s better not to force his hand or call his bluffs. He’s never bluffing.
  • Strong chances at winning the Holy Grail War together.

Chapter Text

  • While attending school at the Clock Tower, Waver Velvet studies with young magi from affluent families with strong magical bloodlines. He’s from a shallow lineage, and it results in him being an outcast.
  • Waver develops a crush on one of his peers. They are of stronger lineage but never treat him differently or disrespect him. Despite coming from an esteemed mage family, this student is down-to-earth and kind, with a great sense of humor. It’s refreshing.
  • He is awful at hiding what he’s thinking. Really. Abysmal. He prefers to operate in a way where his actions and intentions align. You can absolutely believe that this is one of his greatest assets, and his downfall.
  • You see, casually having Alexander the Great summoned into your life as an oversized brute sounds a lot better than it is. The man has been hanging out at the Throne of Heroes for a long-ass time. He’s brought to 1998 and it’s a motherfucking party.
  • The King knows much of pleasure and passion, as he pursued his own in life. He’s known women and men around the world and heard stories of all walks of life. So it takes a fraction of a second for him to catch on to his master’s crush. From the moment he figures it out, the teasing from spirit form is relentless. 
    • Waver trying to talk to Crush? Better tell him what to say.
    • Waver walking past Crush in the hall? Better nudge him in their direction until he gets their attention.
    • Waver staring at Crush from across the room? Better lightly tap them on the shoulder with magic.
  • Waver denies his feelings for Crush, but it’s impossible to lie to a man that’s on your spiritual wavelength and basically reading your mind at all times. 
  • Iskandar tries to respect Waver’s wishes and stay out of his way, but the temptation is mighty. He recites poetry to his tiny master and suggests he do the same for Crush. And he makes recommendations for dates, romantic gestures, and conquest techniques.

“No good can come of denying your feelings, boy. You must rise to the challenge and face it head-on. To love and be loved is the very foundation of humanity. Let us chase Crush to the ends of the Earth!”

Chapter Text

  • Karna doesn’t know where Master disappeared to. At first he didn’t mind. He trusts Master to be able to handle themselves when he cannot be there. He’s confident in Master’s abilities.
  • The longer Master is gone, the heavier his shoulders feel. There is a general sense of “wrongness” everywhere he turns. Things feel out of place. He questions his daily routines, uncertain if something has changed without him realizing it.
  • Was he inadequate? Did he fail Master in some way? 
  • He couldn’t think of any instances where Master expressed disappointment in him. Master showed gratitude for his littlest tasks. They were pleasant and positive and took the time to get to know him. Were they appalled once they saw under the golden armor?
  • If he learns Master has been kidnapped, he will plan a course of action immediately. Ideally he’d rescue them on his own. After all, he’s the son of a god with armor that makes him invincible and wields a weapon that literally kills gods. He could best anybody on the planet. If he can eliminate all obstacles, he can surely retrieve Master.
  • If he learns Master has gone off-the-grid willingly, he will be devastated. The pact between them will tug at his heart and he will be suffocated with dread. He’s capable of managing without Master, but he trusted them to stay by his side and let him act as their humble servant. Ditching him is an act of betrayal.
    • If Master returns, he will be thankful to have them back, but bitter toward their departure. Regaining his trust will be difficult.
    • Bond 10 Karna has no outlet for the negativity and is stuck in his head until he has answers. His cold demeanor reaches its freezing point.

Chapter Text

  • Siegfried is openly distressed. Well, it at least it looks like he’s distressed, but he always looks distressed so it’s hard to gauge where he stands. It is safe to assume he is not happy. 
  • Pact between servant and master is sacred to him, and it’s supposed to be a bond of mutual respect where both parties are working toward a common goal. He’s Master’s sword, Master is his sustenance. Under normal circumstances he would be fine in acting without Master. He respects them enough not to cause them trouble, and they don’t trouble him in return. 
    • Disappearing without a word is not something he planned for.
  • Unsure of whether or not he should seek Master out. His instincts say that something is wrong, but he also hates the idea of doing more harm than good. 
    • Historical performance shows that nothing should be left to chance. He chooses to hunt them down.
  • The longer Siegfried spends alone with his thoughts, the worse he feels about the potential harm that could befall Master. He is overcome with guilt and frustration. 
  • Wonders what he could have done differently to prevent this outcome. Was there anything he could have done? It was a pity that the servant would be the cause of the master’s downfall.
  • If he learns Master has been kidnapped, he’ll have no trouble retrieving them. Obviously he’s not happy that his master was stolen, but he’s used to getting the short end of the stick of life.
  • If he learns Master chose to vanish, he will be equal parts disgusted and ambivalent. He feels a noble obligation to return to Master, but deep down he would rather not. If they wanted him there, they could use a Command Spell. 
    • If Master returns, he’ll let things continue as if they never left. He feels neutral toward them moving forward, but leans toward distrusting. He’d feel better if he could confirm their intentions.
    • Bond 10 Siegfried is zealous in his search for Master, but is understanding if he comes to not like what he finds. 

Chapter Text

“Servant, Assassin. Charles Henri Sanson. I have responded to your summons.  It will be an honor to serve you in this Holy Grail War.”

  • Sanson is a man of few words. While he won’t refuse his master’s attempt at conversation, he keeps his answers brief. Attachment of any sort would be fatal.
  • With Master’s permission, he would like to avoid killing enemy masters. The Holy Grail’s choice has put their lives at risk. Without that, they may not be in the line of fire. Keeping casualties to a minimum is a priority.
  • Master wants to avoid direct confrontation and are ill-suited for combat. With an Assassin-class servant they expected to be able to take out other masters with ease. 
    • This initially creates a rift between Sanson and his master, but Master decides that he’s right: the Holy Grail War should not impact the living.
  • When possible, Master prefers to keep themselves and Sanson under-the-radar. They spend their days before the war bonding. Master shows Sanson the area and gives him time to experience things at a relaxing pace without the pressure of battle.
    • In general he’s neutral toward his master, but at times like these he is appreciative for the opportunity to spend time enjoying himself. It almost feels like being alive.
  • The pair builds trust quickly. They don’t see eye-to-eye on everything, but they respect each other’s values. Though their methods differ, both of them dream of bringing both justice and mercy to mankind. 
    • Sanson finds Master naive, as their plan of action for reaching their wish is impractical. He doesn’t tell them that because he doesn’t care, but it saddens him to see someone so enthusiastic be incapable of reaching their goal.
  • In an instance of great irony, Master is slain in their sleep by an enemy servant. Their arm is cut off at the shoulder while the rest of them is defiled from head to toe. Their sheets soak with blood and meld to their skin. By the time they are aware enough to call for Sanson, they are already doomed.
  • Sanson materializes prepared for battle, but the servant has already vanished. His stomach sinks at the sight of how horribly his master’s body was treated. The lack of dignity they were left with sets a filthy taste in his mouth. It was Master’s instruction for them to stay apart, and he regrets listening. Seeing them like this was a curse.
  • No words can express his despair to his deceased master. Aware of how quickly he will fade, he removes the stained sheets from their bed. He gently closes their eyelids and wipes the fearful expression from their face. He uses a minor act of mage-craft to wipe them clean of blood and lays a fresh white sheet over their body.  The least he can do is try to make the remaining of their passing peaceful.

Chapter Text

  • Wow, your era sucks compared to Uruk. Every era sucks compared to Gilgamesh’s so it’s not a big deal, but he’ll make it a point to remind Master at every opportunity.
  • Gil chose to take the Caster form for this Lesser Holy Grail War. He may have failed his journey for immortality, but he’s wiser than his Archer form. This is like casual flexing for him.
  • Master has the audacity to be disappointed by the servant they’ve summoned. Their catalyst was the head of a poisonous snake. They were hoping for Medusa or Gorgon, but instead they got this asshole that they’ve heard too many rumors about. 
    • “You have no right to pity yourself. The King of Heroes has answered your summons, mongrel.”
    • “In a Lesser Holy Grail War, the path to your Root will not open. Not enough mana can be held in the vessel. There will be enough for the victorious servant and master to make their wishes. Nothing more.”
    • “The Holy Grail belongs to me, therefore its wish-granting abilities do as well. I have no intention of letting filth touch my treasure.”
  • Gilgamesh states he chose this master for their knowledge of mage-craft throughout history. He doesn’t understand his arsenal to its full potential and expects Master to fill in the gaps.
    • This irritates Master to no end. Dude chose a suboptimal form so he could take advantage of their expertise. Dick move. Practical, but still a dick move.
  • Master is secretive about their wish for the Holy Grail. Gilgamesh isn’t interested, but he’s a little curious about whether or not he should be thwarting their efforts. It’s not really his problem though, so whatever.
  • Before the remaining servants are summoned they plan a course of action for the battle. Master is uninterested in his attitude and brushes off his sass and cruelty. Once Gil accepts that his mongrel master isn’t going to back down, he becomes cooperative. 
  • It’s ironic that once Gilgamesh decides to be agreeable his master starts being stubborn. Gil is annoyed by Master’s obstinance, but he enjoys the game of cat-and-mouse they play. It’s a constant push and pull between perspectives, arguing until they find common ground. 
    • Both Master and Servant overwork themselves. They’re difficult and insufferable but their heart is in the right place and their wish is worth fighting for.
  • The two live a “normal” life together during the Holy Grail War. They share meals and conversations and shopping. (And Gil makes a show of how rich he is by purchasing everything Master wants. He spoils them without a thought. They don’t understand why he feels the need to flex all the time but they roll with it.) 
  • They visit Master’s friends and family under the guise of him being a fellow magus (”colleague” for non-mages) from out of the country. Gilgamesh woos everyone in Master’s life with his charisma and charm. 
    • People in Master’s life end up asking him where he’s from, when he’s coming back, if he’s single… It’s goddamn infuriating. And Gil just cocks a grin like the asshole he is and continues turning mongrels to mush.
  • Master is comfortable in combat but would prefer to support Gil from the sidelines. Communicating through the pact’s link allows Master to instruct him on what weapons to use, what they do, and how to use them. The synergy is undeniable.
  • Even in the heat of battle they sass each other telepathically. Master gives Gilgamesh free reign over his actions and avoids using Command Seals. He appreciates this freedom.
  • Together they win the Holy Grail War. Enemy masters push off fighting the King of Heroes to the end because they don’t realize he’s in a weakened form. They don’t take battle seriously until only 3 servants remain but are involved in a couple of skirmishes before then. It would’ve been a lot harder but the free time from enemies procrastinating gave Gil a chance to improve significantly.
  • After everything Gil and Master have experienced and learned together, they share their first verbal confession to caring about each other. It’s mostly them insulting each other between kisses. 


The first time they broke the clothing barrier.

  • They bitch at each other a lot. About working too hard, not taking care of themselves, being shitty and disrespectful. Everything they can throw at each other gets thrown with great force.
  • Gil is turned on hardcore by Master’s combative nature. He thinks it’s adorable that they refuse to back down. Their face turns red and their eyes well up like they’re going to cry and it’s so fucking hot. They gnaw on their pen in thought and he fucking loses it.
    • He won’t admit it but goddamn he picked a good master.
  • Master is equally attracted but would rather chop off their limbs than submit to Gil’s teasing. They’re vulnerable his to charm and that look and that body and that brain god why is he so intelligent? It makes him harder to hate. Fuck.
  • Palpable tension at all times until the first time they get freaky. 
  • After their first “real” battle of the HGW, Master is ranting about the enemy and Gil is playing a condescending asshole to piss Master off to make their face twist that way he likes.
  • During the argument he subtly backs Master against the wall. They’re yelling in his face when he snatches their chin in his hand. He pulls them closer, brushing his thumb over their quivering lower lip. 
  • Master tries to rip his hand away but he catches it. He traces their lips while kissing their fingers and it’s so fucking tantalizing. 
  • The weight of his presence is suffocating.
  • He yanks Master forward and kisses them with fire and oh god it releases the breath they’ve been holding since summoning, his lips are so soft and he nibbles on their lower lip and forces his tongue into their mouth and it is everything they thought it’d be and more.
  • Master drags him to the bedroom without breaking the kiss. They run their fingers over his body and face and devour him like they’ve been starving. Take turns ripping off each other’s clothing. Gil pushes them to their knees and buries their face in his crotch and demands them to pleasure your king like the servant you are. They moan against his dick while he fucks their face and tangles his hands in their hair.
    • He says all the wrong things in the right ways. Master would fire at anyone else calling them vulgar names.
    • But they can’t say anything about it with his dick in their mouth so they dig their nails into his ass when he says something they don’t like. (Or when he says something they do like. He reacts each time they do this.)
  • Gil cums on Master’s face. With one hand tangled he uses the other to drag his fingers through the sticky fluid and orders Master to suck on each of them until they’re clean. 
    • This is the first of many occasions where they swap spit and semen.
  • He lifts them off the ground and carries them to the bathroom, where he pulls them into the shower. They share slow kisses, hold hands, wash each other’s skin with scented soap. 
  • There’s a moment where he breaks his cold facade and presses his forehead against theirs. A sigh rolls off his shoulders. Master leans their head into his chest and relaxes into his arms. He’s not so bad when he’s at ease.
  • The moment’s over in an instant and he’s back to messing with them and being an asshole. Doesn’t talk about the quiet moment of peace they shared, but teases about all the sexual deviancy he wants of Master. 
  • Well… At least he’s consistent.

Chapter Text


  • Your Bedivere is not amused by Camelot Bedivere’s shenanigans. 
  • Your Bedivere messes with Camelot Bedivere over introducing himself as Lucius while standing in front of himself. Think something to the effect of, “Wow it’s a coincidence we look identical. It’s a wonder we’re not the same person. Oh wait! One of us has a brain!”
  • Camelot Bedivere failed to return Excalibur to Artoria. He had one job and he screwed it up. Now look, the world was ending in a singularity because of it. Destruction of that singularity could result in the destruction of all of humanity, Camelot Bedivere.
  • The berating on behalf of Your Bedivere drives Camelot Bedivere mad. Camelot Bedivere loses his cool on Your Bedivere and demands an apology, because they are the same person capable of making the same mistakes. They’ve both served the king as their loyal retainer and the failure of one Bedivere is the failure of all Bediveres.
  • This breaks Your Bedivere’s heart, because he knows that it’s true. They’re the same person that’s made the same missteps and experienced the same hopes and dreams and fears. He is more understanding toward Camelot Bedivere moving forward.
  • At the end of Camelot they find mutual respect for each other and are happy to have succeeded in their role as caretaker to the King of Knights. They decide that their other self isn’t so bad after all.


  • Damn, Camelot Gawain looks pretty good in black and blue. The dark colors bring out his eyes. Your Gawain should wear that back in Chaldea. What do you think, Master? 
    • Cue nose-bleed.
  • Your Gawain is impressed with how Camelot Gawain operates with the amount of political power Arthur gave him. Even though Arthur is calling the shots, it’s clear that Camelot Gawain can change things within reason if he believes they’ll better-suit their purpose. 
  • Glad to see Camelot Gawain remained loyal to Arthur, but pities him. This version of himself hasn’t yet learned that pressuring Arthur to be the perfect king removes his freedom to be a person. This Arthur was going to die a hollow shell of a man… goddess… thing. That was going to be Camelot Gawain’s fault. 
  • Disappointed in Camelot Gawain’s reliance on Arthur’s gift. As much as it’s nice to get rewarded by your king, it’s better to be stronger on your own. Otherwise you’re gaining a false measure of strength. 
  • Your Gawain challenges Camelot Gawain at every opportunity and thrills in making him look bad. Your Gawain is like, “Fight me 1v1 Final Destination No Items 3 Stock Fox Only.” 
    • Camelot Gawain is like, “Lmao wtf ok noob” and proceeds to get destroyed repeatedly. He acts like his Sun Manliness makes him hot shit and Your Gawain is well aware that it doesn’t. Camelot Gawain definitely earns the beating.


  • Camelot Lancelot makes Your Lancelot feel better about himself. Your Lancelot has already dedicated himself to the proper righteous path by aiding Chaldea in the quest to save the Earth. This other guy has no idea what he’s doing.
  • Your Lancelot is overwhelmed with negativity toward Camelot Lancelot, and the feeling is mutual. They are equals in ability but opposites in intelligence, because if the other Lancelot was smart he would’ve surrendered and teamed up with Chaldea immediately.
  • Your Lancelot would rather be anywhere but on the battlefield staring himself down. This is slightly worse than looking in the mirror and being overcome with guilt because he fucked up Camelot in his own timeline.
  • Oh, Camelot Lancelot is setting up hidden refugee camps for soldiers and serfs? That’s actually a good idea. Now he’s embarrassed about picking fights with him. But it’s not going to stop him from doing it.
  • Good grief this is emotionally distressing. Next thing you know Mash is going to turn around and start yelling at Your Lancelot again about what a failure he is as a parent. 
  • Whoops, there she goes except she’s screaming at Camelot Lancelot even though Your Lancelot is standing within earshot. It’s okay, don’t worry about it. He’ll just take the verbal beating from here it’s totally fine.


  • Your Mordred is usually an asshole, but they achieve a whole new level of irritation interacting with themselves in Camelot. The same can be said of Camelot Mordred, who reciprocates the bad attitude. 
    • A Concept: The only match for Mordred’s lovely personality is another Mordred.
  • Both Mordreds would love to tell their Arthurs all about this horrible clone of themselves they met. Both Arthurs wouldn’t care. Which Arthur would care less is up for debate. Probably the Lion King, because they no longer experience human emotions.
  • Your Mordred refuses to let anyone else battle Camelot Mordred and demands they be allowed to prove themselves. Without the gift from the Lion King, Your Mordred is disadvantaged. They can’t use Clarent Blood Arthur without putting you at risk.
  • Camelot Mordred insults Your Mordred, slandering them for betraying the King of Knights and leaving their father’s side. Your Mordred cracks up laughing. Not only does Your Mordred get Arthur’s cold shoulder at Chaldea where Arthur literally can’t avoid them, but they’ve remained loyal and crossed time and space to continue alongside the King. Camethot can’t say the same.
  • “Master, I’d like your permission to kill myself. This idiot needs to be taken out with the rest of the trash.”
    • Was that supposed to be funny or self-deprecating? The world may never know.


  • The battle of Sad Man vs Sadder Man. 
  • Neither of them wants to fight the other. It’s inconvenient at best and a death sentence at worst. Camelot Tristan has the Lion King’s gift, but Your Tristan has free will from being a servant of Chaldea and not of a singularity.
  • Your Tristan has achieved a sense of peace regarding his past, having come to terms with many of those things that haunt him. 
  • Camelot Tristan is jaded and foolish. He doesn’t have a sense of himself beyond his role as the Lion King’s retainer. Without a personal wish worth fighting for, he will never fight for anything with all his heart. Even in shining moments he will stagnate.
  • Camelot Tristan tries to convince Your Tristan to switch teams. They’re the same person, they’ve suffered the same sorrows and felt the same pain. Your Tristan explains that war’s outcome is greater than the conclusions of its battles. No matter who loses here, the fight for humanity will continue.
  • The two agree to disagree and move to combat.

Chapter Text

It was curious that the citizens of Fuyuki were passive toward the poisoning of the river running through their city. Though the water was supposed to reflect the gray of the cement canal, it glowed an ominous purple and poured thick fog through the city. 

A six-year-old Rin Tohsaka had just narrowly escaped the capture of a strange redheaded man with evil mana-filled bracelets. She was able to break his curse on the stolen children through overloading the crystal bracelet with mana. He left to who-knows-where, and Rin wasn’t going to stick around in his hideout to find out what he was doing with children.

Rin bolted back into the street and down to the river to the source of the smoke filling the air. She threw herself against the stone ledge of the footbridge and watched on in horror. From a gap in the sky created by a reality marble’s ripple, a leviathan descended into the water, tendrils spreading across the surface. 

One man raced through the sky on a chariot. Another stood distant in shimmering armor. If this monster was in the middle of the action, this had to be a battle between servants–the exact kind her father explicitly ordered her to stay away from. Father would understand. This was experiential learning.

The last servant she noticed was the tiny figure standing on the water’s surface. Silver armor gleamed in the light of the figure’s glowing sword. Around their dainty feet the water rippled, traveling outward from its force of magical energy. This was the Saber-class servant. She was sure of it. But how would such a small thing take on that giant thing alone? 

Saber raised their sword into the air, both hands gripped tightly around its hilt. The sword illuminated, as did the entire world. Shining gold spirits traveled from all corners of the earth, pouring up into the sky and down into Saber’s blade. An infinite number of dreams soared through the clouds and gathered in the palms of the small servant preparing their greatest attack.

Rin’s opened herself as each of the individual orbs of light whispered their wishes to her on their journey. The hopes of all soldiers, living and deceased, exposed themselves to her. She twinkled with them and sent her wish on the wind, hoping the Heroic Spirit would hear her plea. 

It was in this moment that Rin Tohsaka decided she was ready to battle in the Holy Grail War. Her desire for the beautiful servant overwhelmed her little heart. 

The weapon’s True Name unleashed and a beam of light burst from the sword. Saber threw the blade of light with the force of an army and crashed it into the leviathan’s body. 

Though Rin would never learn this, the Saber below heard her voice and felt her presence and eyes pressing on her back as she prepared her Noble Phantasm. She permitted the wishes of the young magus and deemed that they join the dreams of all fighters–past, present, and future.

Yes, Saber was a child once, if only for a moment. She even held those same dreams a very long time ago. It was as the little mage girl behind her said: the magic of hope never dies.

“I wish to battle by your side, tiny servant. Today you fight against my father, but someday I’ll summon you myself. I’ll grant your wish, and the wishes of all these dead people talking to me right now. I will be all the good in the world. I promise.”

Chapter Text

Awarded Hero Arjuna is beckoned across time by a chilling voice. It reaches him at the Throne of Heroes, where he intended to wait out eternity in peace. But alas, in his passing he agreed to become a Heroic Spirit as retribution for his cowardice in life.

A glowing red circle flickers with fire below his feet and pulls him to the present. The flames briefly remind him of someone he tries so hard to forget.

He materializes on the other side of history.

“Servant, Archer. Arjuna. Allow me to serve you to the best of my ability.” Arjuna nods his head in acknowledgment of his new master.

He is struck by the face that greets him, the one more terrifying than any demon. Arjuna is appalled by how much it resembles the sun itself. 

The young man’s hair and skin both reflect the midday light in a way not dissimilar to water. His one visible eye shines and the hint Arjuna sees of the other leers at him.

To be summoned by his greatest enemy is a curse. Dread creeps into his stomach and crawls up his throat. Krishna cackles inside Arjuna’s aching chest, letting laughter break his ribs. 

Dark. Black. Pitch. Hate. Fury. Shame. Anguish. Fear. His troubles, his hatred, all stem back from one figure he slew with his own arrows. They could not exist on the same side. They were meant to battle. Kill. End. Rip each other from the halls of history.

The man says nothing but offers Arjuna his hand. 

He knows not what to do with this. If this man is who he appears to be, they will surely obliterate him in battle as destiny would have had it had Arjuna not been so–

“It is the ideal our mother once desired,” the man says.

A spotlight of sun shines onto Arjuna’s heart. He makes  silent eye-contact for many moments. 

Krishna claws at Arjuna’s insides and shrieks of all the horrors that they’ve seen and how this is the perfect opportunity to strike down the sun once more. Arjuna struggles against this, praying for one moment of clarity in this chaos tormenting his shattered mind. 

He reaches out and grabs Karna’s hand. 

It’s warm, like he expected. As is the fraction of a smile on Karna’s face, and the aura he exudes as the son of the sun god. The man holds noble posture yet a commoner’s modesty. The way heat dances around him is mystifying.

Arjuna may never forgive his own acts of weakness, but his convictions drive him forward in the Holy Grail War. He seeks the Grail for his own intentions, but believes Karna is more deserving of the wish-granting device. 

Arjuna vows to prove himself to superior. He will not resort to the underhanded tactics he’s been known to employ. He will not operate outside of the conditions of his master. His strength over Karna would be asserted through his behavior as the perfect hero.

Fighting as a pair of demi-gods, their victory in the would be assured.

“I will atone for my single sin and revoke my greatest pride. I will once more achieve the perfection that allows me to surpass all others. I will be your equal and your opposite, Master. I will be your brother… For now.”


  • In Arjuna’s lifetime, he was showered in all the pleasures and opportunities the world could offer. The third of the five Pandava brothers, the son of both the King of Kuru and the Thunder God Indra, Arjuna was fated to live as the Awarded Hero. 
    • Karna is born of the same mother but would never meet his half-brother until their destined confrontation came to pass.
  • The Pandava brothers, so confident in their abilities, opened the floor for anyone to challenge them. 
    • Karna displayed skills superior to even Arjuna’s, but was refused as he came from a far lower caste than permitted to challenge the king’s sons. 
    • Each of the Pandava brothers mocked Karna, yet Arjuna remained silent, unable to express his hideous thoughts.
  • Arjuna was horrified. Ashamed. He envied the skills of a charioteer’s son, seeing him as the only person capable of besting him. Karna needed to die. 
  • They battled opposite in the Kurukshetra War, and Arjuna was struck with the reality that facing Karna meant certain death. And when the day finally came that they met in the arena, Arjuna took a cowardly shot at the Hero of Charity while he attempted to regain ground. 
  • Though Arjuna won his fated match with Karna, it brought him shame. His family, his people, they all relished in his victory. Arjuna was happy to have emerged victorious, but abandoned his life as a warrior.

Chapter Text

  • Bedivere starts each morning by 9:00AM by heating up an old-fashioned kettle while brushing his teeth and grabbing the paper from his doorstep. He leans against the kitchen counter with chamomile in his hands and the local newspaper spread out for him.
  • His living space is tidy. Pristine, even. It almost looks like nobody lives there. He developed the habit while working as Artoria’s caretaker. It stuck with him, and he now goes crazy in cluttered spaces. 
    • Even the smallest messes can set him off. His motto is “put it away if you’re done with it” or “clean it up as you go.” Parties are never hosted at his home. He’d kick everyone out before they even entered.
  • Does volunteer work in his free time, switching between caring for the elderly and tutoring children at the library up the road. He doesn’t get to do it often, but it’s emotionally fulfilling. 
  • Goes to church on Sunday like a good little religious man. He isn’t the type to preach, but he feels empowered listening to the hearts of others sing in stained-glass halls. It’s a spiritual experience that lets him feel close to his neighbors.
  • Bedivere knows the names and birthdays of all his neighbors. He’s heard them mentioned in passing and created a diagram of their street with names, family roles, and birthdays scribbled over the respective houses. 
    • He doesn’t have time to send gifts for every occasion, but he does mail cards using the post box up the road. He’d feel weird putting mail in someone else’s box.
  • Eats light. He’s the retainer of a king that eats an obscene amount. The thought of gorging himself is atrocious. His diet is that of a pescatarian. It’s not a conscious decision to not eat meat, but he makes little choices every day that result in him cutting most of it out.
    • There’s a family of ducks that hangs out at the nearby pond and the thought of hurting one of the ducklings makes him want to barf.
  • His wardrobe is very business-meets-comfort. Soft sweaters hang next to three-piece suits in his closet. All of his button-downs and pants have been ironed. There’s a collection of athletic wear in his bottom drawer, and graphic t-shirts that are mostly gifts from the other Knights of the Round Table.
    • The collection of t-shirts also has a sub-collection of “shirts from places that the person gifting the shirt to Bedivere has been to.”
    • He’s a low-key fashionista and refuses to leave the house in an outfit that doesn’t match. 
    • Wears a lot of black, white, and gray. Gentle colors. Things that are easy on the eyes.
  • Enjoys his time alone, which he has a lot of. In domestic life he’s given plenty of opportunity to hang out at home and relax. He’s been catching up on the things he didn’t get to do in his first life or singularities. Reads a lot of books. Watches a lot of movies. Goes for walks for fun and not for business. Invites companions over for “quiet” game nights. 
  • Bedivere’s daily life is centered around making up for lost time. Though what he lost on the Throne of Heroes will never return, he hopes to make the best of what he has now and show more gratitude to those he loves. He practices thankfulness and appreciation every day.

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  • At last, he is summoned by a master that understands his dedicated work ethic and perfectionism. They’re both constantly working, but they each have the perfect ally in each other. 
  • Not wanting to push himself to his limits and die the same way twice, Gilgamesh is mindful of his pleasure and comfort. Master appears to be headed down the same dead-end path he once was. As much as watching others suffer gets him going, the King of Heroes knows he should be encouraging Master to make the right choices.
    • “If you continue to waste your days at your desk I’ll remove you from it myself. There must be something you find genuine enjoyment in.”
  • Little does Gilgamesh know, this would lead to his death by boredom, in ways worse than he ever imagined.
  • His master is thrilled at the idea of them hanging out, focusing less on preparations for the Holy Grail War and more on getting to know each other through what they liked to call “domestic activities.”
  • Master begins to share all the little things they enjoy with Gilgamesh. 
  • They’re kind enough to bring Gil to their place of employment so he feels less lonely during the day and get to see how much they love their job.
    • What type of job does Master have? Do they work in fast food? Customer service? Retail? Doesn’t matter, because Gilgamesh will say, “This is the least pleasurable experience I’ve ever had,” thus summoning even worse experiences.
  • Master receives their paycheck bi-weekly. They come home with a crisp piece of paper they can’t deposit ever because the bank is closed by the time they get out of work. They explain the way wages are taxed to Gil, and he vomits in his mouth over legalized theft.
  • The two of them go to a country club golf course. They play a full 18 holes on a hot day. Each time Master goes up to swing they demand complete silence from Gil. This is both offensive and a waking nightmare.
    • There are old men riding around on their rickety golf cart, leering at Gil like their gramps-squad is the hottest shit since the exploding Samsung Galaxy S8. 
    • Not only is Gil suffering in the heat wearing dress pants and ugly-ass shoes, he’s burning under the gaze of mongrels. He’s not even allowed to tell them they’re shit at golf. Being hyper-aware of boisterous old bastards grates on his nerves.
  • Master drags Gil through a lower-middle-class grocery store, where large families fight for the last package of frozen dinners on the shelf so they can use their coupon. Who needs coupons, and why is Master pulling out that large accordion folder with labels and oh my god Master is an extreme couponer. 
  • After settling in for the night at home, Master props up their feet next to Gil on the couch. Gil thinks he might finally see something interesting of Master’s hobbies. To his disappointment, his master just sits there with a cup of tea before asking with an authentic smile, “So how about that weather we’re having?”

“Master, if these are truly the things that bring you pleasure, you may never understand the beauty of what the world has to offer. I would be happy to show you glimpses of the wonders you are missing, on the grounds I never accompany you for any of those things again.”

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  • Falling in love with Arthur feels like falling in love for the first time, every day, forever. When asked how much he loves his partner, his response will be, “More than yesterday, less than tomorrow.” Love, devotion, and passion are different ways of expressing the same sentiment. 
  • Arthur isn’t physically demanding as a partner. Romance isn’t a necessity in his life. Love doesn’t come above his priorities as a king or as a knight. 
    • After his experiences in Tokyo he knows better than to permit emotions get in the way of what matters. Doesn’t matter whose emotions they are–they’re a threat to peace if left unchecked.
    • Also that whole thing with Lancelot and Guenivere. But that almost doesn’t irk him as much.
  • In public he keeps his actions quiet and meaningful. He tries to be a “knight in shining armor” and sweep his partner off their feet. If he gets them to swoon, he has accomplished his holy mission.
    • Mischievous glances across the room, punctuated with a wink before looking away innocently.
    • Grazing his fingers over his partner’s skin in passing, over the back of their neck or running his fingers through their hair.
    • Pulling his partner aside when they think nobody’s around and swooping them up in his arms for the kiss of a lifetime.
  • Should his significant other be his master, Arthur will view them as his equal. They are a fighter like him, and they must be willing to show themselves as such. There’s an entire humanity to save. No partner of his is going onto the battlefield ill-equipped. One of you goes, you both go. Every battle you face, you face together.
  • Arthur has seen first-hand that idealization and love come dangerously close to obsession. He shudders thinking of Manaka Sajyou. He’s not proud of stabbing his master and throwing her into the Holy Grail, but it acts as a cautionary tale.
    • For this reason he doesn’t put his partner on a pedestal or deny their faults. If there is a problem he communicates it without beating around the bush, and he encourages his partner to do the same.
  • Fantasy nights are quite common. Picnics under the stars, visiting foreign lands and sharing their culture, and taking turns ravishing each other are lovely opportunities that he’d only pass up for the end of the world.
  • Loves masquerades and playing dress-up together. Wearing matching outfits is ridiculously satisfying. He’s the one to make the ensemble suggestions. Gets excited scrolling through pages of ideas online.
    • God he loves Halloween. Maybe because it’s a contemporary holiday (it’s not even holy when the word comes from holy-day) but he loses his shit over the festivities. Baking, candy, haunted houses, parties, pumpkin carving, and bad horror movies the entire month. 
    • Partner is expected to participate the entire time and they’re gonna get spooked at every opportunity. When they get scared they jump into his arms like Scooby Doo and he’s living for it.
  • All of these things aside, Arthur is still ridiculously sweet. He loves to cook for his partner and butter them up with massages and tender kisses. He’s happy to tuck them in at night, care for them when they’re sick, and take them anywhere their heart desires. 
  • He gives the best hugs, pulling his partner into his chest and smooching the top of their head. He rubs their shoulders and holds their hands and makes the gentlest eye-contact known to man before stealing the breath from their lungs with his lips.

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Infinite daggers pierced Scathach’s flesh, leaving her dripping in the poison of manufactured hatred. 

A rain of spears, protruding from your very body.

The Noble Phantasm Gae Bolg slipped from her fingers and clattered against the ground. She could make out the sound of Master’s shrieking in the distance. It was drowned out by the laughter of the tyrant queen and the snarling of her hound.

This is what has become of you, then?

Once upon a time, the hands buried in her stomach wielded that same spear she carried. It was her most prized possession and the most valuable weapon in her arsenal. She had passed on Gae Bolg under the pretense that this man would go down in history as a hero–the hero she could never be from the Land of Shadows.

There was no way to find him under the dense fog of the tainted Grail’s summoning. His humanity was long gone and in its place was a machine built for slaughter without honor, without law. To see him in a monstrous form such as this, she wondered if she had herself to blame.

Cu Chulainn grinned as he dangled her in the air with his ridged tail stabbed through her stomach. The sound of her insides crunching could have thrilled her killer. Perhaps this was why he had done it.

The beast’s snarl spread to a jagged grin. “Wish granted,” he growled. 

My… wish?

“You thought you were going to defeat the ultimate beast of war?” Queen Medb sang from across the field. “It was a cute effort, but I’m sorry to tell you that you’re in way over your pretty little head, Master of Chaldea. You and grandma over here didn’t have a chance from the start.”

Berserker threw Scathach’s lifeless body in the direction of her master and returned to his own. The sudden removal of spikes made an audible rip in her skin and turned her into a fountain of blood.

Master caught Scathach just barely and tumbled to the ground with her in arm. Gravel crunched beneath their fall. They rolled their servant onto her side to ensure she wouldn’t choke. They tore off their shirt and pressed the bundle against the gaping hole in her body. With each attempted breath, the woman gurgled and coughed.

“Scathach, can you hear me?” Master called. “Please, please say something. You’re going to be okay. Okay? I’m calling Roman and DaVinci now. They’ll get us out of here and take care of you.” 

Their watch glowed, signaling to Chaldea. 

This was… my wish. I see. Battling against him reminded me so much of his youth… of mine.

For the first time in history, Scathach felt ancient. She had spent eternity in this ageless body, trapped between heaven and hell when neither would take her. It seemed nothing could take her life away. At last that had been proven false. Remnants of a smile tugged at her drooling lips. 

A quiet beep from Master’s watch let them know that Chaldea could not be reached. They dug their nails into the soaked shirt.

“Scathach, don’t you dare fucking leave me,” Master cried. 

She didn’t respond.

Their two remaining Command Seals illuminated in response. “By the power of my Command Spell I order you.”

She trembled at the sudden intake of mana. Her eyes shot open.

Do not ask this of me.

“Scathach!” They shook her shoulder violently. “You are not allowed to die here, do I make myself clear?”

She gasped and thrashed, clawing at her chest, desperate to catch her breath beyond the blood overflowing from her mouth. Her bones cracked and muscles tore and insides toppled out of place.

She dry heaved rapidly, struggling to take in oxygen. She rolled onto her stomach with great resolve and propped herself on her forearm. A pool of rusty red liquid formed under her. It caused her to slip as she attempted to gain ground.

Tears stung Master’s eyes but would not fall. They refused to let her see weakness. They needed to be a proper master, command their servant with pride and keep them standing until the end. 

“Answer me. Do I make myself clear?” they screamed.

“Do not waste your last Command Spell,” she coughed. “It is not worth it.”

“You are not leaving me. You’re not allowed to leave.”

Master scrambled to her. They flailed, appearing unsure of what to do with their hands. It looked like they didn’t know how to help her at that point. They reached out to touch Scathach but she waved their hand away before they could. 

To be so young and full of feeling… My students… Do they remember that feeling, too? I wonder.

Scathach tried clearing her throat and turned her head cautiously to face them. She winced, agony grinding every bone and stabbing every muscle. 

Every inch of her body had been ravaged by Berserker’s Noble Phantasm. Her spirit core was shattered. Only the demands of Master’s Command Spell kept her conscious for these final moments.

One of her eyes remained closed, blood oozing from under the damaged eyelid. 

She forced a smile. “Let me go, Master.”



Words destroyed the dams of Master’s throat. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help you. Please tell me what to do. You’re my mentor, you’re supposed to have all the answers, right?”

They floundered for a safe spot to grip on Scathach’s arm. They settled for her shredded sleeve. It tore off between their fingernails. 

“Why won’t you tell me what to do? You’re always telling me what to do, why is this the one fucking time you can’t?” they shrieked. “I listened to everything you said, I did everything you fucking told me and you’re leaving me.”

“Nothing can be done,” she said. Her attempts to speak clearly through the blood passing through her mouth failed.

“What type of bullshit is that? That’s not something you’ve ever said. That’s not what you taught everyone else, not what you taught me. You always find a way. What do I do, teacher? What am I supposed to do?”

I was to be eternal, unmoving, cursed to never say goodbye to those I loved. To be so free… You are fortunate, Master.

She let her numbing arm sink back to the ground. Her hair stuck to her reddened face. “I apologize. I’ve never given a farewell speech.”

Master choked. “Don’t say that. You’re not going. By the power of my Command Spell I order you to–”

“If you’re going to waste your last Command Spell,” she interrupted, “wish that my journey be a peaceful one.” 

Their lower lip quivered with escaped whimpers. They clutched the remains of Scathach’s clothing in their stained hands. “I can’t do this without you.”

She closed her eyes and let her shoulders relax. The sharp pains throughout her body eased. The calm washing over her could have been mistaken for sleep. “As all the warriors I trained before you, you can do anything.” 

“No I can’t. I haven’t learned anything from you. You’re not ready to go. I’m not ready for you to go. Nobody can defeat you, Scathach. Especially not–”

“My protege? The man I wished to take my life?” She tilted her head in the direction Cu Chulainn and Queen Medb left in. “I would have it no other way.”

She felt her feet go numb and noticed golden sparkles drifting into the air above her. A sigh rolled off her body. It was time.

I am with no knowledge of how to pass… and yet, I am not afraid. Though this is not what I expected, I suppose my wish was granted.

“Scathach, I…”

The spearwoman fought to remove her arm out from under her and produced crunching sounds in doing so. She squinted her closed eyes, reaching for her master. They refused to touch her.

“You’ll let me go alone?” she asked, her voice teasing. 

Master took her disjointed hand, careful not to break her fragile grasp further. Their tears rained down on Scathach without reservation.

“That’s better,” she muttered. “Thank you, Master.”

For the first time, the Queen of the Land of Shadows stepped into the light.

In the Land of Shadows, I could not see nighttime nor daylight. Purgatory was my home, and all I was to know. Black. Gray. White. No color outside of those my pupils brought in flowers and parchment paper.

My greatest achievement was preparing those that would change history in ways I could not.

I hope someday you could see that, Master.

Chapter Text

Top 5 Horror-Movie-Watching Servants:

  • Holmes: Enjoys criticizing these films and spoiling the ending while watching with other servants. Horror is trite and predictable, and he loves ruining it for everyone else.
  • Martha: A connoisseur of the entire horror genre. She doesn’t enjoy them at all, but she watches them to say that she did. She does it to prove a point (not that anybody cares except her). Complains about how bad the movie is while it’s playing. Throws popcorn at Holmes for not shutting up.
  • Frankie: Hard relates to a lot of the “villains” in these movies and has a good time looking at other creatures. It makes her feel less like a monster. Quiet and attentive, like she’s watching a documentary.
  • Modred: Nobody delights in the magic of shitty Halloween movies more than the Knight of Treachery. They had no similar experiences as a child in their own life. They watch every single bad horror film they can get their hands on and share them with the other servants that enjoy horror as much as they do. 
  • Illya & Chloe: Listed together because they share in scary movies as a sibling bonding experience. Illya isn’t a fan, but Chloe will kick back and laugh through a whole movie. Chloe is grateful for Mordred’s companionship in the consumption of movies and is often left to lean against them after Illya runs off.

Top 5 Halloween-Loving Servants

  • Elizabeth Bathory: Canon because of the in-game events. Dress-up, candy, parties, it’s all part of the month-long holiday of Halloween. She’s all about that life.
  • Gilgamesh: King of Heroes? More like King of Halloween. And King of Everything. Give the man an excuse to outdo the entire planet and he will take it. He hosts lavish parties, turns his entire neighborhood into a nightmare. The holiday is stupid, but he gets to make good of it.
  • Nursery Rhyme: Costumes can hide her fears of rejection and she can participate in games and sweets and fun. She feels more connected to the idea of spookies than the other child servants do (despite Jack literally existing). She’s bewildered by the way everyone is so willing to dress up and act a fool for the day.
  • Blavatsky: The dark, the occult, and the esoteric all fascinate this Russian aristocrat. Seeing others celebrate the underworld is almost an erotic experience for her. Will make her own Ouija board and use it to terrify other servants, pissing off Andersen in the process. She’ll plan mysteries for other servants to solve that reach their climax on Halloween night.
  • Marie: Will design costumes for every other servant if they give her the opportunity. It’ll drive them nuts. Has a book full of costume ideas for each other servant in Chaldea. It’s as impressive as it is concerning.

Top 5 Servants that Acknowledge Samhain

  • Tristan: Cornish descent and the nephew of King Mark of Cornwall. Though he eventually made his way to the Round Table, he still partakes in the traditions of his homeland. To see him embrace his culture with such enthusiasm is a rare treat. (He knows it as “Kalan Gwav” or “the first day of winter.”)
  • Scathach: Samhain festivities were often held in her homeland and she had plenty of Irish students that wished for her to acknowledge it. The Scottish spearwoman takes pride in her culture and thrills in sharing it with others. She celebrates quietly, but assists in the planning of all festival activities.
  • Cu Chulainn (Lancer, Caster, Prototype): An important distinction, because his Berserker form hates “holy-days.” These Cu-sonas love reminiscing during Samhain. Lancer and Caster remind Scathach of the time almost set Dún Scáith ablaze by accident and Prototype suffers the consequences.
    Fionn: It’s an excuse to have a bonfire with beautiful women and comrades. His luck with women never gets better even as a Heroic Spirit and he will continue to suffer romantic misfortune. He will make the mistake of hitting on Scathach and the worse mistake of flirting with Medb. 
  • Medb: It’d be disrespectful of her to ignore the festivities that the people of Connacht would hope for. At the very least it lets her host a thrilling event for the other Gaelic servants. She’s a tyrant, not a buzzkill. Her pet Cu Chulainn Alter is her assistant in preparations. He hates it. And her.

Chapter Text

At first Frankie would be confused, because this ending is unlike any she’s ever seen. Rare is the occasion in a serious creator movie that the creature gets a happy ending. But she absorbs this movie with great curiosity and tries to understand the sign language used to communicate. She can’t say what she’s thinking aloud, but she’ll watch enough times to use the movie’s limited ASL. Once she’s figured it out she’ll approach her master with a flower and sign “You. Me. Together.”

Chapter Text

  • Holmes avoids contact with servants and staff. He puts himself above the daily drudgery. There are bigger fish to fry, like avoiding being captured by the Mage’s Association. 
  • He reads. A lot. It’s rare to find him without a book in his hand. His greatest source of pleasure is a comfy chair with coffee in one hand and a tome in the other. His literary guilty pleasures are Russian playwrights and novelists. Anton Chekov will never not be great. 
  • Only absorbs media in its original language, believing that too much is lost in translation. Thankfully as a Heroic Spirit he can understand any language, meaning he gets all that good content.
  • Hangs out in mission control to eavesdrop on Chaldea’s happenings. Nothing fazes him. Events seen as catastrophic to others go in one ear and out the other.
  • Owns two identical pairs of clothing. He switches back and forth between them and only worries about washing them when absolutely necessary. Pull that prestidigitation mage-craft when he does need to wash clothes, and nobody knows the difference.
  • He remembers everything about everyone. No birthday, favorite, hobby, noble phantasm, or memory can get past Holmes. It amazes Chaldea’s population that he acknowledges all of these things while never actively holding a conversation with other servants.
  • Holmes pokes fun at his comrades often with a dry sense of humor but nobody bothers punishing him for it. His lax demeanor contradicts the obscene amount of knowledge he is burned with. 
  • His thoughts are constantly spinning, drawing dramatic whorls in his head. It’s impossible to catch him with his guard down. In his most relaxed moments he is still stiff with concern. There is always a thread to follow and a story to unwind. 
  • When approached at Chaldea, he will jump into the conversation without missing a beat. He weaves in and out of chats with others as if he was there the whole time, and after planting ideas into the discussion he’ll vanish without a trace. 

Chapter Text


  • In the form he is summoned in as a Heroic Spirit, he is already middle-aged. He’s already lived, loved, and lost time and again. 
  • The man stood on the battlefield for most of his life. He was the strongest hero of Troy and Achilles’s greatest rival during the Trojan War. In some ways he feels responsible for Troy losing the war. Guilt haunts him today.
  • Don’t let his cheerful demeanor fool you. There’s always something on his mind. His laid-back personality can be misconstrued as irresponsible, but he maintains a sense of obligation that stayed far beyond the grave. 
  • More than anything else, he’s tired. He’s not down for saving the world, but he’ll follow Master to the ends of the world and that’s enough reason for him to keep fighting.


  • Hector’s care for starts as a grown-up sense of responsibility. He initially views you as a child that needs to be taken care of. It’s not patronizing, but it’s annoying. Through battles and arguments he accepts that he’s not giving you enough credit. You may be younger than him, but you’re preparing to fight all of time and history to restore humanity.  The least he can do is treat you as an adult.
  • You’ve put faith in his abilities. You’ve given him the chance to grow despite his age. For all they encourage him to do, he is eternally grateful. He’s apologetic regarding his previous behavior and makes amends as you allow him.
  • He revisits his feelings and determines they’re more than he initially thought. Hector is thrilled to battle with his Master and closest friend. He isn’t used to fighting alongside a partner, but he can’t say he doesn’t love having you with him. It’s a fresh camaraderie. He wants to protect you and cherish you, but he also wants to watch you kick ass.
  • In his time, marriages were arranged. He’s happy to fall in love naturally and get to know another person beyond the surface. It’s a new adventure, one where he can court you the way he believes you deserve. (He actually believes you deserve more than he can offer, but he tries.)
  • Enjoys the simple joys of sharing love with another person. Think picnics under the stars, slow-dancing in the kitchen, or drawing a bath for two. He loves having you read to him and take care of him when he’s sick or feeling lazy. 
  • Since he’s older and also a dead guy he has a lot more experience under his belt. Because of this he isn’t one to argue or cause tiffs. He’d never intentionally upset you or show passive-aggression. Anything that hurts your relationship or makes you uncomfortable isn’t worth it. 
  • Wants to own a farm or a vineyard in the middle of nowhere with you someday. When you’re on adventures he’ll point out the ruins of castles or the remains of a village and talk about what he thinks it would’ve been like to be there with you. He daydreams about what it’d be like to live out eternity on a quiet plot of land with you and a bunch of animals. 


  • It’s difficult for him to wrap his head around the over-a-millennia age gap in his relationship with his master. You’ll have to be the one to sit him down and start the conversation about sex, because he in no way wants to feel like he’s pressing you into it.
    • “An old man like me? Of all the heroes in Chaldea you choose a guy with a foot in the grave… You’re right, King Hassan does have a bunch of feet in the grave.”
  • Not a physically-demanding lover. He could give or take sex, but intimacy is a must. Snuggling, kissing, an touching each other (PG to X it’s all great) are all treasures to him.
  • Whoever says “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” wasn’t sleeping with a Heroic Spirit. Turns out having an eternity makes a man pretty good between the sheets. If you want to try something new, he’ll try to make it work for both of you. There’s constant communication.
  • He likes to take his time stripping you from head to toe and planting kisses down your naked body. He’ll lace his fingers with yours while he studies your curves with his lips. The hills and valleys of your form are maps he will never tire of exploring, and he’ll brush his nose along them like the gifts of nature they are. 
  • There are times when you want to have silly sex full of laughs or share dozens of kisses while cuddling in the nude, and he enjoys those just as much, maybe even more.
  • Loves going down on you. Holy shit why is your crotch an aphrodisiac? Doesn’t matter how sweaty you are or how long the day was. He enjoys having your mouth on his cock just as much, not that he’s ever going to admit it. Lover’s needs can be met first, then he can worry about himself.
    • “What do I like? Guess you’ll have to figure it out for yourself… You want to do it all? What classifies as ‘all’? …Sure thing, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
  • Loves making love. He loves you. He treasures you. He will rock his hips into yours and lock his lips on your neck while holding you impossibly close. He’ll set the rhythm and you’ll keep in time, and he’ll whisper the sweetest nothings while demanding you say his name.
  • Not super kinky, but if you showed him variety he’d get into it and find more things he liked. He starts out with:
    • Teasing (both ways)
    • Spanking (both ways)
    • Needy/desperate (you for him)
    • Orgasm denial
    • Sleepy morning sex
    • Sleepy middle of the night sex
    • And this list is likely to grow if you take the time to introduce him to new things.

Chapter Text

  • Arthur is a lot gentler with the Mordred at Chaldea than he was with his own. His Mordred was unhealthily obsessed with him and destroyed everything he was meant to protect. This new Mordred is still angry, but at least they have some amount of chill.
  • As his partner you make it a point to encourage Arthur to interact with Mordred. You’re a supportive partner, after all. You even give him a list of Mordred’s hobbies so he can figure out where to start.
    • Food, movies, modern sports, video games, and sparring. Those are all valid places to start building a friendship.
    • Yeah, Arthur knows he’s not going to be a parent to a fully-grown knight. Mordred probably wouldn’t like being “parented” anyway.
  • Mordred is aware of the obvious fact that this isn’t their King Arthur. Arthur clearly isn’t the same king that they know and loathe. They show apprehension, but are willing to interact with him peacefully.
  • Arthur feels guilty that he was summoned long after Mordred and stole away their master’s companionship. Before him, the young knight spent so much time with you. They looked up to you, but now they sulk when the three of you were in the same room. 
    • He always offers Mordred snacks and invites them to watch television with him. They’re skeptical, but they tag along without ever pointing out what a third-wheel situation you put them in. But they tag along each time you invite them. Maybe they like the company.
  • On a stormy evening after a difficult mission, Arthur challenges Mordred to a sparring match. The rest of Chaldea has already retired to their quarters or broken off to do their own thing. But the King of Knights approached his son’s bedroom door and knocked...

The blades of Excalibur and Clarent clash over and over. The repeated collisions would shatter the Chaldea Gate if it weren’t so heavily reinforced. If not for the sound-proofing, the entire organization would hear.

You sit off to the side with a meal prepared for each of them. This is the second meal you’ve brought, because the original demanded you store it in the fridge. Arthur and Mordred have been at it for hours, long enough that the first hints of sunrise are peeking over the mountains outside the window-lined wall. 

There’s something beautiful about the silhouettes of two swordsmen dancing like this. Arthur’s swordplay is refined by experience, adaptive to the conditions of the fight. Mordred’s movements resemble his, yet their impulsivity shines in their spontaneous decision-making.

Their silhouettes are dyed red with the glow of sunrise. Mordred falters for a fraction of a moment, and Arthur is finally able to knock Clarent out of their hands. Mordred’s face contorts in horror as their sword clatters against the cement floor. Excalibur’s tip freezes at their throat. Arthur grins.

Mordred raises their hands and waves with an air of sarcasm. They don’t look at Arthur. “White flag. You got me.”

Arthur’s tosses Excalibur toward its sister sword. His shoulders heave with shallow breaths. “They’re exceptional,” he thinks, shaking the sweat off his forehead. 

“Man, I almost had you, too.” The young knight folds their arms. They close their eyes and groan. “Master, you still got food over there? I’m starving.”

You jump up with the prepared meals and approach the knights. “That was incredible, Mordred. Seriously. I am blown away.”

They snatch the food from your hands and sit cross-legged on the floor. “Don’t flatter me.” They shove an entire chocolate-covered snack cake into their mouth and grumble while chewing. “I’ll never be king, never be as good as my father, blah-blah, blahblahblah, blah.”

With the aggression they show during battle, the fire in their eyes and tension in their muscles, you wouldn’t have expected Mordred to resign so easily to defeat.

“As far as Mordred’s concerned,” Arthur thinks towards you, “every fight with me ends to death. That’s all they know, isn’t it? I wonder... did they ever succeed?”

The King reaches for the meal you offer him and sits across from Mordred. You join them on the floor and you’re all close enough that your legs almost touch. 

Mordred glares at the proximity between the three of you. They sigh and turn to you, face full of food. “What’s the point in keeping a crappy copy around when you have this guy, Master?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve got no chance in hell of ever becoming king in any timeline.” They discard the plastic wrapper of a second snack cake over their head. “I’m worthless compared to Arthur...“

Arthur sets his food on the floor. He leans forward and makes nose-to-nose eye contact with Mordred, who frowns at him. He plants his hand firmly on Mordred’s forehead and ruffles their hair. 

Their eyebrows shoot up and lips twist. “What do you think you’re--”

“Any knight would be honored to fight for a king as persevering as you, Sir Mordred.” 

They freeze.

Arthur grins at his son. He reaches for the back of their head an pulls their forehead to his lips. “I, for one, believe you will be a magnificent.”

“I agree,” you say. “I will be delighted to serve you.” 

Your ear-to-ear grin catches the young knight off-guard. Their expression changes dozens of times in a moment. They don’t say anything, but they turn and gaze into the face of the father that has been so far out of reach their entire life. 

Someone is finally offering the support and attention they’ve craved for all of history. He goes out of his way to make them comfortable and try to include them in his life. This isn’t the man that refused to raise them, nor is it the king that rejected them countless times. These are the types of thoughts you think are going through their head. 

Mordred exhales the frustrations of a thousand years. They throw one arm around Arthur and the other around you, dragging you both into a power-hug. They hide their face in your shirts. Your clothing dampens, but of course it’s not because they’re crying. That would be ridiculous.

“Watch your throne, old man,” they mutter. “I’m coming to take it, and I’m stealing your lover while I’m at it.”

Arthur cracks up laughing. “I see defeat has not discouraged you,” he says. He buries his face in Mordred’s hair and kisses the side of their head. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Text

  • In this cursed form tainted both by the Holy Grail and the Holy Lance, LArtoria Alter is unable to communicate the exact feelings caused by Master’s disappearance. The cause of Master’s absence is unimportant. She’s not happy they’re gone. She will bring them back whether they want to return or not.
  • An ocean could rest between them and she would part the seas to reach Master on the other side. There should be no qualms with her destroying everything standing between her and Master. 
    • Even knowing that it’s her duty to be hated as a cruel tyrant, she refuses to falter in her obligation. She forged a pact with them. They sustained her existence and supplied her with power. Master is her responsibility.
    • Even if Master is a nuisance with their attempts at ‘friendship’ an ‘camaraderie,’ it is far more annoying to not have their attempts at ‘friendship’ and ‘camaraderie’ once she’s used to them.
  • Assuming Master left on their own accord, LArtoria Alter will not feel betrayed, as she isn’t able to experience that emotion in this form. She will be angry that they chose to vanish without consulting her, and will demand they either end or revise their pact if their intention was to escape her. 
    • The thought of Master trying to ‘escape’ her leaves an inexplicable sour taste in her mouth. She would prefer they stay by her side. 
    • Bond 10 LArtoria Alter’s icy chest hollows further, and a black hole sinks into the chasm of her ribs. She finds herself wishing Master would stay, and is disappointed that she can’t express this.
  • Learning that Master was kidnapped will infuriate her. That any living being is foolish enough to steal what belongs to the King of Storms is a baffling concept. She will take pleasure in ending their life.
  • LArtoria Alter knows the potential of the Holy Lance carries and is prepared to blast away layers of the planet to dig Master out from whatever dungeon they’re locked away in. She would prefer not to harm any innocent bystanders in the process. They didn’t earn a cruel fate, nor should they be punished for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
  • As this summoning of Artoria has retained her humanity, she will feel as though she failed unless she is able to have Master returned to her side in one piece, unharmed, and comfortable.

Chapter Text

  • Leave it to Gudako to have access to history’s greatest heroes and choose to get involved with a member of Chaldea’s staff. With all her thirst for legends you’d think she planned on settling down with one of them, but nope. She chose you. And quite frankly, nobody is more surprised by Gudako’s choice than you are. Congratulations.
  • Is it all that surprising, though? She isn’t anything special as far as mages go. She jokes with her servants but she’s likely aware that even under the best of circumstances she won’t get to keep these friends forever. 
  • Who is it that this spunky hero fell for? Was it DaVinci and his shifty tricks? Was it Dr. Roman and his mysteries?
  • Nope. You’re just a trained medic-magus that was studying under Dr. Roman before the meltdown. You were prepared to Rayshift with Chaldea’s masters to singularities and provide support and mana as needed. 
    • The day of the explosion you receive a call from back home regarding your mother’s illness at the time you were supposed to be Rayshifting. You’ve never felt more grateful for receiving bad news. 
    • Guilt is overwhelming, knowing you should’ve been there with Olga Marie and the new masters. But there’s nothing you can do for them anymore, so you’ve poured yourself into caring for the remaining living staff at Chaldea.
  • You and Gudako kept crossing paths but never met. You knew of her and her antics, but kept your head down as to not interfere with her responsibilities. It seemed you were always parallel, but never intersecting. 
  • One day Gudako bumped into you in the hallway and accidentally knocked your belongings out of your hand. She offered to assist you in carrying them to your destination. She was surprised to see someone new in a building isolated thousands of feet above the ground on a dead planet. More than surprise, she felt excitement to meet someone that wasn’t putting the weight of humanity on her shoulders.
  • You thanked her and intended to never see her again.
  • She started showing up everywhere. 
  • The girl went out of her way to be in the same place at the same time after figuring out your schedule with the help of a certain nurse. She was fascinated by the way you treated her. 
    • Being trapped in Chaldea forced her to forget herself as a young woman, to put her responsibility as magus above all else. But when you talked to her and cracked jokes and she got to blush and laugh like everything was fine, she felt a sense of normality again.
    • She began accompanying you to your duties to meet the other staff she’d been separated from. She put faces to each name of the remaining members. It opened a pit of concern in her chest, that she’d grow attached to everyone that was “unworthy” of being a master. 
  • This fear she developed was easily quelled by your presence, as per her request to Romani you were to be her general practitioner and be responsible for her physical well-being. You became her dietician, physician, and walking first-aid kit. 
    • The walking first-aid kit was totally necessary. It’s like she would come back with minor injuries on purpose, just so she had an excuse to see you.
  • When she started openly flirting with you, you wanted to play the “deny-until-you-die” game, and never admit that you genuinely enjoyed the odd little mage’s company.
  • Maybe it was okay to enjoy someone so different from yourself. Maybe it was okay to find their loud personality attractive, and their idealism charming. You didn’t have to be identical to relate to one another. You have a surprising amount in common. It’s nice to be around someone so vibrant in a stronghold so gray.
  • Who knows? Maybe it’s okay that Roman winks every time he mentions the restoration of mankind to you. It’s not a coincidence that he tilts his head toward the master screen, urging you to watch your partner and her servants fighting for the future on the other side of space.
  • Seeing her call out commands and loosely-organize history’s greatest heroes into battle? She barely looks like she knows what she’s doing, but the servants seem to fill in the gaps for themselves. It’s chaos. Organized chaos. But hey, that’s Gudako. That’s your girl.

Chapter Text


  • Mash: “…I see. Thank you for telling me. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. As long as we stay together, there is nothing we won’t overcome. Is there anything I can do to help?”
  • Nero: “My beautiful Master, I will not leave you no matter what ailment befalls you. Would you like me to get you something to drink before I join you in your fortress of pillows?”
  • CasGil: “An illness of the mind? I see. If there is no cure, then I will do all in my power to relieve what stresses I can. I will call for the only the most effective care and coziest blankets.”
  • Robin: “I don’t know how to handle these things. When I used to help people that were in trouble the answers were easy. Just tell me what you need from me and I’ll do it.”
  • Karna: “Something in your head trying to kill you… I don’t wish to see you suffer alone. I will listen to your words. Please let me assist you.”
  • Jeanne: “It is most devastating that you go through this. Know that you will never be alone in this struggle. I will learn to properly care for you in this state, and we will get through it together.”
  • Astolfo: “Please don’t give up on yourself. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll do whatever it takes, even go into your brain and fight your sickness off myself. Wait, can I do that? Who cares, I’ll try anyway.”


  • Artoria: “I’m honored that you feel comfortable enough to share your struggles with me. Allow me to share your burdens. You do not have to go through them alone.”
  • Siegfried: “Should you need anything at all, say the words and it’s done.”
  • Lancelot: “I can’t defeat monsters that exist in your head. Still, I wish to stay beside you in your time of need.”
  • Gawain: “I will never leave you. This I have sworn. No amount of Shadow People will scare me off. What can I do to ease your troubles?”
  • Cu Prototype: “I’ve heard those head problems are pretty dangerous. Not sure what I can do for you at this point. Let me know what you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
  • Ozy: “I’ve heard of these illnesses before. I will find you the greatest care available. Your condition won’t be worsening under my watch. Stay at my side. You can get your needed sunlight from me.”
  • Sanson: “I’m not going to kill you no matter how many times you ask. If you won’t take care of yourself, I’ll do it myself. Have you taken your medication today? Showered? Eaten?”


  • Mordred: “I’m worried about you. Seeing you in a funk like this really gets to me. I know I can’t get rid of all the shit in your head, but I’d like to be around to scare it off when it comes at you.”
  • Bedivere: “What you are going through is no laughing matter and it’s certainly not ‘all in your head’ when it has physical side effects. I’m proud of you for fighting each day. I will never give up on you.”
  • Emiya: “I’m not leaving you. You’re not allowed to isolate yourself from me. Sit down. I’ll bring you lunch. We’ll eat and talk about it, if you want.”
  • Chiron: “I’ve learned of these before. Sickness of the mind is every bit as legitimate as sickness of the body or soul. I am happy to offer my shoulder or my hand as needed.”
  • Hector: “Life doesn’t stop hurting any less as you get older. You learn to handle it a little better, and you find people willing to tag along. Can be hard when someone has troubles like yours. I’m right here with you.”
  • Helena: “Shadow People you say? You aren’t the first to mention such a phenomenon, nor will you be the last. There are plenty of things we can do to lessen these symptoms. First let’s worry about taking care of you.”
  • Jekyll: “Like you’re two different people… I certainly understand that feeling well. It is not your fault, nor is there anything that can be done to eliminate this. We will find ways to make it manageable for you.”
  • Frankie: [behaves similarly to a pet dog, spending her time at your side offering her quiet companionship and getting things as you need them]

Chapter Text

  • In life, Siegfried was taken advantage of at every turn. He fulfilled requests at his own expense. He took on a tragic path of obedience to the needs of the public without considering himself. 
  • In past Holy Grail Wars he’s been known to disobey a master’s orders if they compromised his morals. Nothing is more important to Siegfried than acting within his code of honor. 
  • So how did he get summoned by a mediocre magus with no catalyst? Neither of them is sure.
  • Master may be a sub-par mage, but they have a wellspring of mana at their disposal and recover at an astonishing rate. Siegfried finds that they’re eager to fight. Too eager. The use the skirmishes to take out their aggression and act recklessly. It’ll probably get them in trouble. 
  • Master thinks out loud a lot and talks to Siegfried all the time. It’s a strange new experience for him. He’s not used to being asked so many questions, having a master show genuine interest in him. 
    • Their words match their actions at all points. They’re considerate of him and accept when he doesn’t want to talk about certain subjects. He finds it odd given how much they talk, but it’s… nice.
  • Master admits to not being knowledgeable about his legend and requests to hear the story from the source. He describes the feats that made him a hero and his eventual vilification. During his life people were so demanding of him that he was harassed when he missed one person’s request atop the hundreds he tried to complete. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he shouldered the burdens of the woes of others.
    • Master listens intently the entire time, probing his mind for his true thoughts and feelings. While he is reluctant, he still lets them in.
  • His master isn’t anything special. They live in a two-bedroom apartment in the city that’s a couple blocks away from their job.
    • They refuse to let him into spirit form. They insist he sleep in their bedroom while they take the futon. Even though he doesn’t need to sleep, they want him to feel comfortable. He’s their guest during the Holy Grail War. 
    • Their bedroom is tidy but comfortable with books and candles and photographs. Siegfried feels as though he’s stumbled upon something intimate. 
    • The second bedroom is their workroom. There’s a desk with an over-sized chair covered in paper scraps, stained by acrylics. Notebooks are stacked up to the windowsill and stuffed under the futon. 
  • Siegfried stays up until the wee hours each night, curled up in Master’s blankets in modern pajama clothing (by their insistence). He reads their books and flips through their photo albums. He looks through their notebooks in the workroom as well. 
    • As concerned as he feels he should be about snooping, they ordered him to act as though their home is his. And it’s so odd for him to be living like a lower-middle-class modern man when he was a nobleman of legend. But he still… he likes it.
  • On most days he goes into town and explores, meeting people and volunteering his time. He quietly seeks out other servants and masters when his own master isn’t around. But he prefers being out and about with them. He feels… lonely? Yes. He feels lonely when they aren’t with him. 
  • Each night Master comes home drained by their day job, which they were unable to quit during the Holy Grail War even though their life is at risk. 
    • Siegfried never had to worry about finances or anything like that. It’s upsetting to be on the other side of the poverty line. He doesn’t look down on Master for it, but his heart hurts. He doesn’t think they should have to live like this.
  • One night, Master collapses at the door from exhaustion. Siegfried carries them to their bedroom. He sets them on their bed and removes their socks because they waved their feet indignantly at him. He leaves the lamp on the nightstand glowing and turns to leave, but Master grumbles at him and ask him to keep them company.
    • Siegfried the invincible dragon-slayer becomes a stuffed animal. It isn’t written in their contract, but this duty is most sacred. He has a book in one hand and the other on his master’s shoulder while they curl into his side. He concludes his master must feel safe like this. In a way, he feels safe too.
  • Perhaps it is the simplicity of Master’s life, or their transparency in all things. Maybe it’s that he feels like a man and not a tool for reaching Akasha. He has a purpose beyond winning someone else’s wish for them. Whether they win the Holy Grail or not, Siegfried will be satisfied that he stood beside such a… a good person. 
  • When only 3 Master-Servant pairs remain, Master approaches Siegfried and confesses to wanting to give up their Command Spells to the Church. They express how inadequate they are, that they have no right to be participating in the Holy Grail War and didn’t want to hold him back from his wish.


“My wish is that you allow me to continue by your side… Though you think little of yourself as a magus, you should think highly of yourself as a companion.  I would sooner end my life than fight for a different master.”

Chapter Text

  • You have the audacity to make a decision on behalf of the pharaoh. Under normal circumstances he’d laugh and challenge you to continue provoking him. This time he looms over you and fires his golden glare into your soul. He’d be entertained if he wasn’t so disgusted by this act of insubordination.
  • Without so much as glancing in his direction, you offer your hand to the opposing master. They are your friend, and they have been respectful of Ozymandias since day one. If anyone is to carry your Command Spells and win the Holy Grail, it should be them. As your ally reaches to touch you, Ozy snatches your hand and shoos them away, demanding privacy. 
  • He doesn’t want to spend the end of your life arguing, but the thought of being given to someone unworthy sickens him. Your companionship has brought him great joy, and your camaraderie has made this Holy Grail War the most tolerable he’s fought in. 
  • Ozymandias is disappointed in your willingness to give up on life so easily. The frustration he senses boiling in your chest burns him as well. He knows very well the anguish that comes at the end of life. It brings him guilt that he is helpless. Death is the one entity that not even a pharaoh, not even the sun, can conquer.
  • Ozy continues to refuse, stating that it is not your choice to make for him. Bringing peace to the world is his duty, sure, but that can wait a minute because he’s not going to tolerate indignant behavior from the mortal he values most in this era. 
  • He’s had countless partners over his existence, and while you were no Nefertari (as no one will ever be) he did genuinely care for you. He was confident in his ability to show off when the occasion called. He liked how unnerved you got when he thrilled you with his strength. Casual reminder that he was the sun and he enjoyed lighting the world for you.
  • He agrees to fight alongside your ally on the condition that he remains with you until your last breaths, even without your Command Seals. You waste your first Command Spell at the end of your life to order him to win the Holy Grail War, meaning Ozy’s new master will only receive two. He finds this as funny as it is stupid, but is glad to see you keep your fire to the end.

“I would rather not waste your final moments fighting over the inevitable. It is the responsibility of a pharaoh to act as the shining example of brilliance. I will continue in the Holy Grail War for this reason, and this alone.”

“The gods smile upon you, Master. You have served your pharaoh well.”

Chapter Text

  • Gil wasn’t certain if releasing himself inside of you could result in pregnancy, as he’s been dead for thousands of years. With the Holy Grail giving him a permanent physical form it seems reasonable enough. He didn’t consider this a potential outcome of your relationship. While he’s had more than enough sexual encounters for one eternity he can’t think of any children he concerned himself with in life.
  • He doesn’t think too much about it as his mind is constantly in a million places at once. He is still perplexed by the exact nature of your pregnancy and seeks answers, but what he finds stops at “Blame the Grail.” This is an inadequate explanation but he’ll tolerate it.
  • Expect nothing but the finest care in the world. You will be waited on hand and foot during your pregnancy. If there is even a hint of trouble it will be resolved by the highest-ranking professionals available. There will be no strange food cravings that go unsatisfied. 
  • Don’t expect him to be the one to take care of those things. He has people for that. Then again, nobody’s as good at managing things as he is, so expect him to take charge of all pregnancy-related task delegation. 
  • He’s fascinated by the protrusion from your belly and enjoys how soft the skin is. He contemplates what it must be like to be inside a womb, what it’s like to be at the start of life again. Many nights before bed he will ponder the child’s existence and their thoughts. He’ll run his hands over gently, asserting possession over you and the child.
  • The closer you get to the due date, the less he wants to be around you. Your behavior is erratic and you’re constantly in pain and experiencing volatile mood swings. He doesn’t trust the professionals with his treasures, though, so he continues to stay by your side. He also doesn’t trust you not to snap on someone else, so he speaks for you in interactions with others. The man makes an excellent BS-buffer.
  • Honestly he can’t wait for it to be over and for you to go back to normal. Gil pours himself into his responsibilities and takes his hostility out on anyone who will (or won’t, he doesn’t care) listen. Pregnancy is a parasitic relationship between the mother and child where the mother sacrifices so much of herself for this… thing. He hates sharing your body with anyone, even his own child.

Chapter Text

  • If Master wants to wear the pants in this relationship, they’re going to have to fight for them and eventually concede to sharing. As relaxed as he is, Irish Hercules isn’t about that submission life. 
  • Cu will happily let Master challenge his dominance, not that he’ll ever let them win. They have to earn it. In the time preceding their relationship, forward flirtation and open teasing are fun back-and-forth games between them. 
  • Kinda cute that his master thinks they can take control, like they forget he’s had his way with countless people before. He exhibits restraint when they toy with him for impure purposes, but appreciates their bluntness. They can get themselves riled up and be stuck with it. Lets them tease themselves, in a way.
  • The longer they fight side-by-side, the greater respect he develops for Master. They’re together long enough that they both show their softer sides. He becomes willing to waver on his stature to make them happy. It’s never expressed aloud, but they’re important to him. Making them happy brings him joy. Their satisfaction is his.
  • Master tries to act like the hottest thing since sliced bread. Makes him laugh because he knows they’re not, but their confidence is charming. He’ll pull them into his chest and bury his nose in their hair and mutter about how cute they are when they’re being ridiculous.
  • Cu makes a point to keep his brazen master grounded in reality: he is a Heroic Spirit, not a slave. Anything he does with them is on his terms with respect to their wishes taken into consideration. If they’re putting pressure on his personal code of conduct, he will cut them off at the source and remind them that he’s far stronger and more experienced than they will ever be.


  • The battle for dominance is on. Who will crack first under the weight of sexual tension? Answer is probably Master because he’s been around a long fucking time.
  • Play wrestling counts as foreplay, right? Good, because this lancer loves that shit. Getting hot and bothered in a guaranteed battle of wits and upper-body strength is his jam.
  • Cu establishes authority early on in his physical relationship with Master. Their attempts at seduction don’t faze him. Nothing breaks his resolve, but he will break theirs into pieces. 
    • Master thinks that pulling him close to them by his ponytail will get to him. He’ll pull their head back while leaning over them, running his free hand down their chest and tugging them closer by their waistband. 
  • If Master insists on having him like this, they’re going to accept all of him and no less. Their first encounters involve Master being demoralized. Cu Chulainn leaves them a soaking, sweating mess tangled in the sheets with their own fluids dribbling from their swollen lips. 
    • Edges them until they’re in actual agony. May or may not let them orgasm, depending on if they earn it by being a good little master.
    • Learns their body with his fingers and draws a map with his tongue, leaving trails of saliva from their lips down to their quivering thighs. 
    • They speak out of line and he suffocates their mouth with his. Sinks his teeth into their lower lip and release hot breaths into theirs, forcing them to inhale him and only him.
    • Sucks on the sensitive skin of their earlobes while letting out low groans that they can’t escape. He’ll moan their name into their neck while thrusting into them, and come up for eye contact when he wants to remind them who they’re being dominated by.
    • Prefers they know exactly who the master is, so he flips them over and fucks them from behind so he can finish on their rear with his fingertips pressed deep into their hips. If they try to protest this, they get a crisp clap across their ass.
  • It’s up to Master to set the tone of their relationship after being ravaged.
    • Bad End A: Master gets angry at the display of disrespect shown by their servant. Cu feels guilty and apologizes, playing it off like it never happened. This isn’t the reaction he expected given their interactions up to this point, so he’s disappointed. Affection lost. 
    • Bad End B: Master absolutely hates what has occurred and takes it out on their servant. Probably wastes a Command Spell being obstinate and acts with hostility toward him. Cu loses respect for them and cuts off any affection he previously held.
    • Good End: Master decides they enjoyed submitting to him and it wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be. Cu is entertained. This result is fine by him. He gives them room to be a power-bottom or be a switch with him, but is happy that he gets to maintain status as top dog. 
    • True End: Master accepts that they have nothing on this guy and surrenders. They confess that they feel like they won’t be able to express their own dominant desires if they continue in a relationship. Cu apologizes for his behavior and agrees that everything from here on out will be mutual. If they want to play out their fantasies, he’ll happily play along. He doesn’t hate submitting, but felt the need to show he’s the alpha in the relationship when in actuality he wants to be equals, partners, and best friends. The communication line is open and they make these choices together moving forward. What a good boy.

Chapter Text

  • Eternity serving alongside King Arthur sounds great aside from the fact it’s a goddamn nightmare. It drives Mordred mad that they have to deal with so many lookalikes of their father (“Saberfaces” as Master calls them), and that multiple of them are supposed to be their father in other timelines. What cruel deity planned this twisted fate for them to endure?
  • Mordred avoids all Saberfaces if possible, which turns out to be rather difficult because of how many servants look like their dad. Arthur and Holy Lance Goddess are the only ones they like.
    • They make a distinct point of ignoring Alters. While Alters have more tolerable personalities than Artoria, they lack the principles and respect that Mordred finds paramount to their father’s character. Therefore even though they’re better they’re still worse.
    • Jeanne and Jeanne Alter both make Mordred want to punch themselves in the face. Those two are what Mordred thinks their dad wants to be remembered like: an ideal, untouchable being that spreads holiness like butter.
  • Saber Artoria isn’t aware of the fact Mordred is her son, and their estranged relationship from Camelot has followed them to Chaldea. She treats Mordred with respect, but is grossly uncomfortable being around the Knight of Treachery. The betrayal left a sour taste in her mouth.
    • The other Knights of the Round Table are defensive of Artoria in the presence of Mordred, but Artoria tries to let their battle remain in the past so they can cooperate in the future.
    • She barely wants this and it’s aggravating but a king’s gotta do what a king’s gotta do. She sets the standard for etiquette high.
  • Artoria never understood why Mordred behaved the way they did toward her; with the other burdens on her shoulders this detail got pushed aside endlessly. She chalks it up to youthful aggression and naïveté.
  • Without the experience of the 4th and 5th Fuyuki Holy Grail Wars, Artoria has maintained her kingly idealism. She still desires to create a utopia of Camelot and be the perfect king. Those are her top priorities. Mordred finds Artoria to be the naive one because of this. 
  • Mordred and Artoria don’t go out of their way to talk to each other. They are almost never seen in the same room. Neither knight knows what to say. If either tried it’d probably come out as jumbled words of frustration. They may regard one another with a nod, wave, or glare, but with so many more appropriate companions around Chaldea it’s best if they remain distant.

Chapter Text

  • To be a king trapped among peasants in the reinforced-steel walls of Chaldea is truly a curse. Poor Gilgamesh has little more than his beloved Master and their army of dead people that refuse to accept his leadership despite being the King of Heroes. This is a fate nearly worse than death.
    • He knows he and all other Heroic Spirits are dead, but he wouldn’t assert himself as dead. He’d make sure everyone else knew they were dead, though.
  • It doesn’t take a wise king to catch on to the foolish ways of the weak. The hungry eyes of unworthy servants linger for too long on his Master’s form. They lick their parched lips as they thirst for the sweet love Master offers. They spread their colorful feathers like peacocks and screech like rejected apes. Gilgamesh must admit that he would find the sight entertaining if it didn’t inconvenience him so much.
  • The eyes and hands and lips of others belong nowhere near his most sacred of treasures. That they have the nerve to set foot in the boundaries surrounding his prized possession is appalling. 
  • In such situations where he cannot drag his lover out of conversations he’s unhappy with, he quietly perch his chin on their head or shoulder while they continue. He will leer into the other party’s face while they speak to his Master without his permission. His patience will not waver, but neither will his command of the situation. 
  • If the conversation continues long enough he will transition to more flirtatious or suggestive contact with his partner, silently tracing a finger down their spine or slipping his hand up the back of their shirt. A distraction would likely end the encounter sooner, yes?
  • Should an individual take their actions too far, the king takes it upon himself to remind them of their place on the floor with the rest of the dirt. 

Chapter Text

  • Master: Shirou Emiya
    • Servant: Artoria Pendragon (Lancer Alter)
    • Conditions: Lancer responds to the era’s need for a savior from the trauma it is continuously experiencing and recovering from. The tainted Holy Grail gives way to the Alter form.
    • Scenario: This version of Artoria is far less forgiving of Shirou’s lack of knowledge on the Holy Grail War. She is tougher on him than her purer selves. Rin is taken with the King of Storms, but her short temper causes Artoria to look down on her. Everyone is shocked by this version of Artoria, and none have the guts to face her head-on.
  • Master: Rin Tohsaka
    • Servant: EMIYA (Assassin)
    • Conditions: Medea does not summon a servant. Zouken does not participate in the Holy Grail War. 
    • Scenario: Rin’s fighting style is not well-suited to an Assassin-class servant. Her alliance with Shirou is rocky from the start, as Shirou is aware that, in the end, he will have to face his father in battle. He is happy to have more time with Kiritsugu and is uncomfortable watching the man commit his killings as he did in life.
  • Master: Sakura Matou, Shinji Matou 
    • Servant: Gorgon (Avenger)
    • Condition: Gorgon takes the place of the Rider-class servant in the HGW, as she destroys her weaker self during summoning.
    • Scenario: Gorgon is a beautiful predator. She is protective of Sakura and sees her as the prey of a beast she has no business battling. Sakura is the only person that Gorgon doesn’t actively try to devour. Her hatred toward Shinji and Zouken are no secret. She kills Zouken by the end of the war.
  • Master: Illyasviel von Einzbern
    • Servant: Heracles (True Archer)
    • Conditions: The Madness Enhancement is not used during summoning. His divinity and immortality have both been removed.
    • Scenario: So long as he as not tainted by the mud of the Grail, Heracles will be a “faultless hero” and likely play the figure that Illya wished for in life. She will be angry that he is “perfect” but his willingness to stand for goodness against all odds grows on her. She probably got along better with Berserker.
  • Master: Souichirou Kuzuki
    • Servant: Medea Lily 
    • Conditions: Perhaps young Medea senses his role as an educator and gravitates toward his ability to battle with his fists.
    • Scenario: Kuzuki is confused by the fact he summoned a child. Assuming he would be the fighter, Medea’s magic could support him. Their Master-Servant roles would be reversed, though he wouldn’t be the biggest fan of taking orders from a child. They get wrecked early a la Heaven’s Feel.
  • Master: Bazett Faga McRemitz, Kirei Kotomine
    • Servant: Cu Chulainn (Alter)
    • Conditions: Bazett uses the Madness Enhancement during summoning, likely forced into it.
    • Scenario: Bazett is high-key horrified by the monstrosity that became of this Heroic Spirit. She doesn’t get along well with him but appreciates that he doesn’t put up a fuss about anything. She will not be killed by Kirei Kotomine if Cu Alter is by her side. Even he isn’t ballsy enough to mess with the war machine.
  • Master: Kirei Kotomine
    • Servant: Gilgamesh (Caster)
    • Conditions: Summoned as a result of Gilgamesh (Archer) hanging out with Kirei if Souichirou Kuzuki does not summon Medea.
    • Scenario: The two Gilgameshes do not get along well. Caster looks down on his younger self and attempts to make right the stupid shit that Archer did wrong. He doesn’t like the False Priest. He’s given free reign of his actions, just as Archer, but he uses them for good rather than cruelty. Likely tries to help out the heroes if he can.

Chapter Text

  • First Waver finds someone that wants to start a family with him, which Iskandar was the best supporter of. The big red bear is thrilled about Waver falling in love and starting a family. Sure it wasn’t his own taste, but the King of Conquerers appreciates what brings his friend joy.
  • Waver even tried to summon Iskandar to his wedding. With the Greater Grail dismantled it obviously didn’t work, but he did find a peculiar string of magecraft that allowed him to send wedding photos to his buddy at the Throne of Heroes. 
  • They write letters back and forth, which is the only way they can communicate across dimensions. There are other ways, but Iskandar is always out having a good time, Waver is a busy guy, and it’s better to just leave a message after the beep.
  • The day Iskandar returns to his place on the Throne of Heroes and finds the announcement from Waver, there isn’t a harder-partying Heroic Spirit around. He’s drinking and laughing and celebrating and crying. He’s hugging every other servant he sees, even the ones that find him obnoxious. 
  • Iskandar responds to Waver’s magecraft across time and grabs a hold of the string that sends him letters. He pulls himself up to Waver’s era and claws through a hole he breaks in time. Waver has a mild heart attack at the man forcing his way into the present. Iskandar crushes Waver with a hug that lifts the poor man off the ground.
  • Waver introduces him to his partner, and takes special care to introduce him to the child. Iskandar is permitted to hold the young child and shares a quiet moment in the nursery with Waver, his partner, and his child. 

You are made of good stock, little one. You are lucky to be part of such a loving family. Make me proud, just like your father does to this day. I look forward to seeing the path you carve for yourself in this world.

Chapter Text

It can’t possibly be you. But I believe that it is.  It’s been centuries. I recognize your features so wholly. You haven’t changed. 

I wonder why you grin at me. Do you recognize me as well? 

The man holding your arm–Sir Lancelot? It must be. I see… Y ou’re living the life of a woman, the one you sacrificed to stay by my side. He look at you with such warmth. Had I never made my two closest friends smile that way?

All that Camelot asked of me is nothing compared to what I asked of you. The tears I brought you, and those that were in turn passed to Sir Lancelot, bred the flowers at my grave. Their growth is the blessing of your love and the curse of the sorrow I gave in return. 

For each night you cried to your pillow, for each that Sir Lancelot clutched his chest, I desperately wished an answer. I wanted nothing more than to bring you both joy.

I apologize for turning away. When your eyes met mine I felt so confused. Catching your smile from this distance, my heart flutters.

Sir Lancelot has his sights on the crosswalk. He guides you across the street, his back upright as I remember him. His expression is so subtle. I believe I see the happiness that serving me could never bring. He’s saying something to you. I cannot hear it, but you are laughing. 

Guinevere… Even as Camelot fell, you performed each responsibility required of you. Though you never raised a sword, you fought in Camelot’s most dangerous battle. Your role could never be overestimated. 

I want to rush over to you and say something, but I have no clue what to say. I wish to hug you both and thank you for your service.

The two of you… Your loyalty is not forgotten. Thank you for all you’ve done.

Chapter Text

“So,” they say, “You’re Heracles, right?”

He exhales through his nose and meets their eyes.

“It’s an honor to meet you.” They bow their head. “Thank you for answering my family’s summons. I know you probably didn’t have much a choice, but… I’m sorry. You don’t deserve the treatment you’ve received.


They rub the glowing red Command Seals on the back of their hand. “I have these things now.”

He growls between his teeth.

“Whoa! I’m not going to use them. I’ll barely be able to keep you out of spirit form. I don’t really want to fight in this Holy Grail War thing. I’m just taking someone else’s place. We’re the same in that way.”


  • The young magus that summons him in this instance is of an affluent family, but bears weak magical circuits and a short lineage. Their mother is the current matriarch while their father is incapacitated. He is bedridden after angering his servant during summoning. 
  • Everyone’s heard stories of the tormented Heroic Spirit Heracles. It takes a powerful mage to provide him enough mana, and a stronger one to keep him under control. 
  • This poor little mage has their father’s Command Seals forced upon them. They’re rightfully terrified of the Berserker. He’s settled in the underground workshop for now, but their family and the local Mage’s Association have all been met with aggression. Sacrificing this kid sounds like a great idea.
  • The young mage is guided to the workshop by their mother. Berserker is seated cross-legged on the ground. Mother opens the wrought-iron gate to the workshop. He roars at the door at the sight of her. She shoves her child in and slams the gate, giving a tiny finger-wave as she leaves. He quiets once she’s gone.
  • Master is frozen against the gate, clutching its bars. They stare across the stone room at the servant. Their servant. Their big, scary servant. 
  • Master shrinks at any startling noises. If Heracles senses a potential disturbance he covers each of their ears, spreading his hand like a claw machine.
  • Master is uncomfortable around their parents. Heracles refuses to leave their side if they have to see either parent. He stands next to them, silent, glaring at them. The parents are terrified and quickly learn that they are losing control over both the servant and their child.
  • Heracles absorbs Master’s frustration. if they scream or cry or blame him for the issues in their family, he doesn’t respond. He lets them use him as a verbal punching bag. It doesn’t affect him. It’s uncertain if he knows they need it, but he does a great job of it.
  • Herc tries to reduces his master’s potential stresses. He carries them on his shoulder a lot. He doesn’t say anything, but he manifests himself when necessary to offer them aid.
  • When Master is asleep, Herc lets his past creep into their dreams. They get to see his life as a hero and the eventual loss of his family that sent him into madness. Master develops a mighty respect for Berserker, impressed by the restraint and skill he shows despite the madness enhancement. 
  • The pair develops an understanding. Big Scary Servant protects Meek Master and ensures that their anxieties and fears are crushed beneath his big hands.

Chapter Text

The ancient wall clock in Master’s room ticks especially slowly into the wee hours of the morning. Their fingers impatiently dig into their mountain of pillows.

As the short hand of the clock strikes 3, Master sneaks out of bed wearing their blanket as a cloak. Outside of their room waits a shadowy figure hooded by their own fuzzy blanket. The figure carries a plastic trash bin overflowing with three bags of flavored popcorn, two boxes of tissues, and two thermoses. 

They creep through Chaldea’s halls until they reach Dr. Roman’s command center. Master crawls under the desk and rearranges a few wires while their caped companion acquires a large living chair from the common area. 

While Master adjusts the old-fashioned cables, they internally thank DaVinci for adding digital cable compatibility to this particular setup. With access to every broadcast and network television station from every country in all of history, the viewing possibilities are endless. Despite this miracle of magecraft and technology, there’s still no way to skip commercials unless the show was pre-recorded.

Fortunately, Master and their friend have a backlog of recorded material waiting for them in the DVR. 

In a swift motion, the duo rips off their blankets in unison. Master strikes a dramatic pose and Diarmuid covers the chair with his blanket.

The plush lounge chair they share is designed for only one person, but they take turns trying different seating configurations. They are careful to never bump into or move the doctor’s chair while they adjust, out of concern that he might notice even the slightest difference in its position. 

Sometimes Master sits in Diarmuid’s lap. Others Diarmuid sits in Master’s. Sometimes one of them sits on the floor between the other’s legs. Others they both try to squeeze into the seat, which results in both being uncomfortably squished between the arms of the chair.

They each have a hand deep in their popcorn of choice by the time the recording plays. The opening credits roll. Monospace subtitles in bright yellow pop up in the lower third, and music notes denote [music playing].

For the next four hours they lose themselves in Spanish soap operas. This occurs every weekend when nobody is expected to get up before 8. 

When the night is over they tidy the office and Master replaces the cords before leaving. Master ends up getting no sleep and spends the whole day on the verge of passing out. Good thing they have a friend like Diarmuid taking care of them.

Chaldea can never know.

Chapter Text

  • This sad Saber is beside himself. Master dragged him through the Camelot singularity and forced him to face his failures twice over. He has to watch his Camelot-self struggle to resist Queen Guinevere, then go behind Arthur’s back and sends refugees to camps. He’s soaking in all of the harsh words Mash and Galahad have for him. He can’t catch a break.
  • He knows his screw-ups contributed to the fall of Camelot, but in this singularity it feels like they were a lot less significant. But he isn’t sure if he likes this world better, because here Arthur is even less of a human than he remembers. 
  • The man carries the weight of a traitor from his own timeline and finds himself no better than the Knight of Treachery. As far as he’s concerned, the only thing he didn’t do was drive the blade through Arthur himself. 
  • Stuck on the throne of heroes, trapped between time and space, he has yearned to learn loyalty and trust again. He has remained silent in that desire for centuries.
  • They are within the walls of the Holy City before any battles have taken place. The Chaldea team is preparing to siege the Lion King and correct history. Master has given orders and split the group up. Left alone with Sir Lancelot, the foolish young master has taken his hand in theirs and dropped to their knee. They bow their head to him and his posture stiffens. His lips fall apart into a quiet o.
  • Master professes their undying loyalty. They describe each dream and nightmare Sir Lancelot has shared with them. They apologize for being of no nobility. They apologize for coming to him as someone that is neither a king nor knight. The only token of affection Master is able to offer is their word, to which they have remained true since Sir Lancelot’s arrival in Chaldea. They request permission to serve as his retainer all their days.
  • Sir Lancelot raises his master to their feet to speak to him and receives Camelot’s biggest hug in centuries. He reels back at first but eases into it and wraps the bulky arms of his armor around his master.

“Do you know what you are saying? I am a sinner. I do not deserve this. I cannot permit you to serve me, my honor as a knight forbids it.

“Yet to think that someone would believe in me the way my king once did… Master, y ou are worthy of my sword and my life. Both belong to you eternally.”

Chapter Text

Master… The world sets too much on your fragile shoulders and expects you to fulfill the wishes of all humanity. Other servants seek to take advantage of your agreeable and trusting nature. Even the late Doctor Archaman built his relationship with you on a foundation of lies. 

You will not continue without someday being tainted. There is so much dishonesty that you look past it at all points. I am sickened by the thought of you succumbing to filth as they have. Darkness is contagious.

Your safety and well-being is my responsibility. You see, caring for others is what I love most in this world. 

But I’ve never cured the disease that devours me alive.

My lungs shudder with each breath. My throat peels with every word that passes through. Each word, coated with sugar and lies. Smiles cause my jaw to ache. 

How I wish my insides didn’t churn at the thought of him jumping out of my skin. How I wish I were not a monster. As much as I want to say it’s all him, I can’t deny that we are one and the same. Though my form may change when he arises he is no less Jekyll than I am Hyde, and so…

When I apologize for what I do, please do not forgive me. Leave me when you can. My desires are cursed. And he will act as the cruelty I try to keep you from.

I will do whatever it takes to protect you from the dark of this world, Master.

I have been drugging you as part of an experiment. 

We have been testing whether or not you could recover quickly from the mental and emotional traumas caused by the situation you’re trapped in. Initial doses administered under Dr. Archaman were little more than a placebo. When I took this into my own hands, I noticed a gradual improvement in your mental state as I increased the dosage.

This, I believe, is a result of you being unable to function or retain information while under the influence. For that reason you would not remember any instances of this treatment. At the current quantity it puts you to sleep quite easily. 

The substance is served as a syrup that mixes well when heated. You seem to like it most in a relaxing chamomile tea, but have also had it in other hot beverages.

I invite you to my private reading room in the early afternoon. I guide you to the chair at my reading desk. You complain about how rigid it makes you feel and we share a laugh. I like it for keeping my posture in check. 

I have your tea waiting for you in a white ceramic cup embellished with gold designs. I bring it over on a tiny plate with a napkin and teaspoon. When I set it on the desk you thank me with a smile that plays on your lips like a hummingbird’s wings might on air. 

It takes no more than five minutes of conversation before your eyelids begin to flutter. Your eyelashes brush your cheeks like butterfly kisses. As you rest your head in your folded arms, I come to check on you. I offer to take you to your room. You assure me you are simply resting your eyes.

Your lips part as you doze off. I dare not wake you like Sleeping Beauty. I fear this is as close as I will ever come to having you. At least you are safe.

I hook one end of each chain into the loops bolted in either far corner of the desk’s surface and the other to steel cuffs. I lift your chin just barely to lock the cuffs around each of your wrists. I leave enough space for your hands to twist as to not hurt you. 

I do the same when latching your feet against the front legs of the table.

You curl your arms back around your face. The cuffs and chains clatter against each other, but you do not stir. I wonder what you dream of.

When you awake in the evening, a layer of glass coats your eyes. They are unfocused. Your pupils are dilated in the dark. I do only keep a couple of ambient lamps lit here in the evening.

Then he comes. 

He threatens to reveal this secret ritual if I do not let him play. 

My skin crawls, and he takes over. 

He stalks your limp form as a beast would injured prey. From behind his eyes I watch him rest the icy tip of his knife against your neck and lightly trace it back and forth, your skin a violin he bows with mastery. He does not cut the strings. He never does. 

I want to believe he feels similarly for you as I do. With the amount of times I’ve trapped you here like this for days at a time you would expect him to have ended your life already. 

He kicks the chair out from under you and you topple to the ground. The chains scrape against the surface of the desk and tangle above your head, your wrists wrapped together. For a moment you appear to understand the scenario, but you glaze over once more.

He slides to his knees before you and brings his face close to yours. His hands cup your face, the flat side of the knife pressing into your cheek. If I knew no better I would find this act endearing.

His eyes remain open when he presses his lips to yours. We both know you are incapable of returning it, but he kisses you over and over and over and he forces his tongue into your mouth and drags it along your teeth, as your mouth is his territory as if you are his property and I am on fire.

On the other side of his existence, I am on fire. All of me is burning alive. 

He drags the edge of his blade across your body deliberately to cut open your clothing. It shreds, tears like tissue paper. The scraps fall away from you and leave you bare. I am forced to watch as he enjoys taking in your form, whispering sickening words into your ear and leaving marks to remember him by that I will have to heal before anyone else can see.

You are shivering, but unaware. I want to hold you close and keep you warm. 

You are blissfully unaware, but I suffer every moment. It seems such a small sacrifice to offer a few minutes of my own misery in exchange for you being at total peace.

And I get to keep you here, where nobody else can hurt you. You stay in the reading room with me, surrounded by knowledge and history. You will know no darkness. Only peace. Only calm. All I have to do is humor him for a little while.

This is not what I want for you.

This is not how I want to protect you.

It is the only way I know how, Master. 

Please do not ever forgive me.

Chapter Text


Chapter Text

I wanted to believe it’d be okay. 

In the grand scheme of things, a few years spent restoring humanity isn’t that long. My family won’t believe that I saved the world, just like they didn’t believe our cat tore up my homework that one time.

As I disable the summoning platform, I’m overwhelmed by the this strange facility one final time. Embedded on the side of the world’s tallest mountain, trapped in endless winter, Chaldea is untouched by civilization. It’s like we’ve existed in our own block of time and space these years. 

I tell myself it’s for the best that I return to a place where time moves forward. 


We all knew this day would come. I decided earlier that it’s better to leave without saying goodbye. When the servants return to the Throne of Heroes their experiences here will fade. The bonds we’ve built will disappear. I will be the only one that remembers what happened in Chaldea. I guess the support staff will, too, but none of them grew as close to the servants as I did. 

With the assistance of a nameless medic in the remains of the Rayshift chamber I burn Saint Graphs. We say nothing, but perform the task one card at a time to pay our respects and offer gratitude. The images of my servants, my friends, crumple as any picture would. 

It’d be stupid to think that heroes with millennia of knowledge would hope to hold onto a few years with a half-rate magus. It’d be selfish of me to keep them here, wouldn’t it? There are other Grails and other wars to fight. The world will always need heroes, won’t it? There are others that need them more than I, right? 

The memories I’ve spent years building join the graveyard of mages that were once my peers. I don’t let the staff member see my lips quiver. 

A slam on the chamber’s door, and my best friend’s voice shrieking from the other side. I planned on letting them go last. They don’t need to see me cry. But dents embed in the the wall and they break through and I have no choice.

I turn my back to them and wave their Saint Graph over the fire. I don’t want to have this conversation. I don’t want to look at them. They speak to me as if talking me down from a ledge. Convincing me not to jump might be impossible at this point. 

As a final favor to them, I offer my beloved servant the last Holy Grail we won. My companion deserves a chance to make a wish of their own before they go. Every servant did, but I believe they do most of all. I do not burn their Saint Graph. They leave me to my tears per my request and the power of my remaining Command Spells.

My last night in Chaldea, spent alone in the common area, is the loneliest night of my life. My heart aches and my stomach is in knots and I am cold all over. I hide in blankets on the couch and stare into the empty spaces where history was summoned, repaired, and celebrated. 

It turns out I lied–I thought my last night in Chaldea was the most miserable night of my life, but the real most miserable night of my life is my first night back home. 

Nothing in my town has changed. The sun is down and people are walking home with hot beverages in hand to ease the cold. I tighten my grip on the polar uniform I’ve worn countless times to battle and push open the door to my house. My parents are at the table waiting for me as if I never left. The calendar on the refrigerator tells me that I am home in the days before the Rayshift explosion, before I entered Chaldea. 

I wonder, is there even a point to telling them where I’ve been? Was I even alive this whole time? Was I ever gone? Was it all a dream? Did I somehow travel back in time, or did Chaldea really exist in its own space outside of the natural flow of time?

I hug my parents and tell them I love them. I carry a bottled water up to my room and curl up in bed. Dad calls up and asks if I’m alright, and I say I had a long day. He asks if I had fun at school today, and if I still have a class trip to the mountains this weekend. 

I don’t remember going to school. Nothing before Chaldea matters now. I’m a different person… I mean, I guess if my work is done and Chaldea doesn’t exist anymore there’s no field trip, is there?

My room is unfamiliar. My sheets are not standard issue and my pillow is too soft. The mattress doesn’t support my back properly and I sink into it too easily. My cat looks at me like she knows I’ve been gone a while. She sleeps by my head after kneading my stomach a bunch.

I wonder how I’m supposed to go about life knowing what I know. Does anybody know what I did? Can anyone see what I’ve been through? Did I even change a thing? My peers and I were sent to Chaldea by the Mage’s Association. You’d think that someone would come to find the sole surviving master and thank them for saving the world. 

I didn’t expect balloons or streamers or missed birthday presents to be waiting for me, but I thought maybe… I dunno. That there was anything waiting here for me. Now that I’m back it feels like my life before the Grand Order had no purpose. 

I cry. I cry until my face is stiff. I keep it under the cover of my bedding. I picture my friends back at the Throne of Heroes preparing to protect history in another time. I picture my beloved in another era, falling for another, saving the world again, forgetting about me entirely. I did the right thing, but everything about my loneliness feels so wrong. 

I fall asleep in my uniform. It’s the only assurance that I didn’t imagine Chaldea.

Early in the morning I wake to my bedroom door slamming against the wall and my mom demanding my presence downstairs. I pull the blankets back over my head. She rips them away and tells me one of my friends came over for breakfast. Dad is waiting downstairs with food on the table, right off the stove. 

I try to remember my friends from this time period. I think I had friends from school and my part-time job. I wonder what happened to my grades and employment while I was gone. If this is before I left for Chaldea I shouldn’t have anyone visiting me at this hour, should I?

My uniform comes off with difficulty. I thought this jacket was easy to unzip, but with shaking hands and bleary eyes it’s a lot harder. Unclipping the harness is unsteady. Changing into clothes I would’ve worn once feels unnatural. In plainclothes I look so normal but so… not like me anymore. 

The stairs are loud under my feet, loud enough to drown the discussion at the table out on the way down. Mom and Dad ask my friend questions. I still don’t know anyone’s names. I hope it’s someone I recognize. Maybe. Did I even have friends before Chaldea? I’m not sure anymore.

But I do recognize them. 

My heart threatens to break my ribs. 

My last servant. My partner. My friend. Dressed as casually and looking as awkward as I feel, leaning against the counter and engaging in conversation with my parents as though they have a thousand times before. 

They set their mug down and ask how long I think it took for them to get here.

I grab the banister at the foot of the stairs and tell them, “A few years, at least.” 

I leap through the kitchen and throw myself into their open arms, spilling a little bit of whatever they’re drinking. They welcome me home and ask me not to leave them ever again. And I promise.

Chapter Text

  • In life Robin only had one love interest, the lovely and fair Maid Marian. Make no mistake–even though she was lovely and fair, Marian was one of the earliest independent women in English literature. She’s recognized as being beautiful and strong-willed with respectable traits. This is consistent across depictions whether she was written as a noblewoman or prostitute. She was his equal. She was friend. And he loved her to bits.
    • Unfortunately the odds of her becoming a Heroic Spirit are zilch and he’s fine with that, but it internally upsets him that she is lost somewhere in history he can’t reach her. Looking back he feels real lucky having been with an outlaw so clever and attractive.
    • Sorry Billy, you ain’t sly.
  • For a potential relationship with his master, Robin never technically confesses. At some point it occurs to both him and Master that they have been using goofy nicknames for each other and throwing “love” around with ease. 
    • “I wonder when that started. Hasn’t it always been like this? Huh.”
  • Gets embarrassed if anyone calls him on his feelings for Master but doesn’t deny them. It’s not that big of a deal. Love is a thing that just is. It’s a weird thing, but he doesn’t worry about it. The world’s a beautiful place and a lot more beautiful with an adventure buddy.
  • A significant other is a partner as opposed to a boyfriend or girlfriend. “Partner in crime” is a genderless role that can be filled by anyone as long as they’re as courageous as he sometimes is. This person is supposed to be his best friend. if they aren’t his friend first and foremost they’re never going to get anywhere with him. 
  • Virtuous. Loyal. Respectful. And if someone he holds dear doesn’t behave that same way towards him, he isn’t afraid to cut his losses. It takes a lot to make him want to leave. If he does, rest assured the person deserved it. He chooses to trust his closest companions by default until they give him a reason not to. The smallest lies raise great suspicion. 
    • You ain’t sly either, person trying to lie to a thief.
  • Low-key paying attention every time his friends and partner talk about their hopes, dreams, and desires. It bums him out that he can’t make them all come true, but he’ll sure as hell try. He offers his support and shoulder anytime he can. 
  • Thoughtful gift-giver. Won’t gift anything that he didn’t acquire by mostly legal means. Prefers a meaningful present over an expensive one and won’t go out of his way to splurge on someone. He’ll spoil with love and friendship.
  • Prefers hanging out to going out but doesn’t neglect his partner’s desire to go places and do things. He complains about it for fun but puts having a good time above whining. 
  • As mentioned elsewhere he loves board games. They pass the time well and give him a chance to be competitive without having to compete. He likes to add special… egh… features when playing with his partner. Be prepared to be scared and confused.

“Want to play a round of strip-Chess? Bondage-Battleship? How about crossbow-play Catan?”

“Okay, I get it. You don’t like the crossbow-play. But can we at least–wait, what are you doing with my Noble Phantasm? Put that down. You shouldn’t be handling that, it’s very dangerous. If I can’t play with it then you definitely can’t.”

Chapter Text

  • You’re not in a relationship yet, you’re just really good friends and he thought it’d be nice to have you visit his grandparents with him back home. You’ve never been there. He’s offering to be nice. And because you found out his birthday was coming up. It’s not like he wanted you to celebrate his birthday or anything. 
  • He never says when his birthday is. You have to go out of your way to find out on your own time if you want to celebrate. He has zero faith in anyone to remember so he acts like he doesn’t have a birthday. Which isn’t possible, and he’s aware of that, but it’s not going to stop him from being difficult.
    • Iskandar would be so unsurprised.
  • Says he doesn’t want a birthday party but holy heck does he want a birthday party with his friends and family and you and Iskandar. He wants to have one chill party at home and another that gets super fucking crazy  so he can feel like a big kid partying hard. Bring booze and buddies. Those are good times waiting to happen.
    • Those can happen back in England. They probably won’t. It’ll be a “let’s not and say we did” affair.
  • Considerate of you the whole time you’re visiting his family. You don’t know they’re not his biological family. As far as they’re all concerned they’re as close as any other family so you never notice unless Waver mentions it, which he won’t because talking about hypnotizing old people is embarrassing.
  • A night at home with his pseudo-grandparents and closest friend will be more than enough to make him feel loved. Grandma bakes a homemade birthday cake with buttercream icing. Grandpa cooks a meal using his own crops, making enough food to fill the burly red-haired man that used to come around.
    • Nope, not crying. What are you talking about? Stop looking at him like that! You’re being dumb. Please hand the boy a tissue.
  • He’s reminded of all the experiences he’s been able to have up until this point and how exciting his life is for being so young. How many young people can confess to stealing a catalyst from a professor at the prestigious Clock Tower, summoning a powerful Heroic Spirit, and coming within arm’s reach of winning a Holy Grail War before having their first girlfriend? Nobody, that’s who.
    • Okay technically none of the female masters in previous HGWs had girlfriends to his knowledge but THAT is nitpicking and they don’t meet the first point anyway so hmph. 
  • Refuses to make eye contact while you all sing “happy birthday” to him.
  • Refuses to make eye contact while stuffing cake in his mouth.
  • Refuses to make eye contact while opening presents.
  • But his cheeks are bright red, he’s still breathing, and he’s smiling behind that curtain of hair. So it’s all good.

“Proposing” (AKA “characterization-dumping on proposal request”)

  • At the time you meet Waver Velvet, he has never had a girlfriend. A couple crushes here and there, but he’s so into his studies and work that there wouldn’t be the time of day and he wouldn’t know what to do anyway so nope he’s just going to wait until he graduates. He’s already had enough excitement for one year. He needs time off. Or forever off. 
  • You attend the Clock Tower institute for young mages and have quite a few classes with Waver. He’s not from a prestigious bloodline like you are, but you don’t worry about lineage. The two of you are fast friends. He even tells you about the time he stole a catalyst from Kayneth to enter the 4th Fuyuki Holy Grail War. Like, he made it to the end after seeing the greatest battles imaginable. And he lived. HOW COOL IS THAT?
  • He invites you to come visit his grandparents back home with him during the weekend of his birthday. He thinks they’d be happy to see he’s made a real friend in unfavorable circumstances. You agree to go because why not, you’ve never been to Japan and his grandparents sound ridiculously nice. It’s an opportunity to spend time with your best friend.
  • Though you like him as more-than-a-friend, you know he’s focused on his studies at the Clock Tower and improving his mage-craft. To study there is an opportunity of a lifetime. Throwing that away would be foolish. It’d also ruin the mood of the trip if you made a move here. In relationships you’re not supposed to take uncertain steps on ground that isn’t neutral.
  • In the end, what you do is up to you. 
    • Bad End: You tell him you like him on this trip and confess to wanting a relationship. This is a selfish move as the trip is supposed to be about him and his family and you went in knowing that. If you do this, he’s going to be mortified and have no clue how to respond. He’ll be uncomfortable talking to you when you return to England and he’ll need time to get back to the same level of friendship. He reminds you that his studies come first at this point in his life, but he still wants to be friends. Pressuring someone with a lot on their plate and mind is not very nice.
    • Good End: You don’t tell him you like him, but you make hints at liking him and wanting to be in a relationship. They go over his head. You continue to hint but he still doesn’t get it and you stick by his side anyway because you know he’ll be worth it. Over time you two grow closer as friends and mages and eventually become a power duo that morphs into an intimate relationship (still not realizing you were hitting on him). It’s okay for relationships to take time to develop. Sometimes it’s the right person but the wrong time. It’s hard to have a “right” time with Angra Mainyu hanging around though, so it’s probably for the best that you waited.
    • True End: You don’t tell him you like him, and instead be the best best-friend that this guy could ask for. You hang out with him and his grandparents, listen to their stories, and value the bond you have as friends first and foremost. Before returning to England he confesses that he respects and appreciates you. He’s not used to people treating him as well as you have. He offers his gratitude and asks if you’d like to spend more time together on studies when you get back to the Clock Tower. You definitely start dating before graduation and proceed to join him on his excursions moving forward. Progress happens naturally. You can’t force things one way or another, but if you respect the other person they will happen in a way that both people can be comfortable with.

Chapter Text

Consider each breath you take, and each thought that passes through your head. At any given moment, seven billion people are the same as you–keeping their head down, concerned of how they’re going to take care of their loved ones. They obey the world’s orders as necessary, sacrificing their ability to make choices for comfort and stability.

Though there are people whose views oppose ours, rare is the occasion those people are truly evil. They see us as a force of darkness. We see them as the enemy. It is an ironic exchange of perspectives given that on an individual level we often have the same goals. What is “right” and “wrong” is up for debate.

While I do not regret the path I have chosen, I urge you to reconsider. Ask yourself: can you survive an eternity knowing that you are the reason a child will go hungry, or a widow will wait for the lover they don’t know is dead?

If you have any doubts, I would rather kill you than let you make this choice. But if you are ready to shoulder the planet’s blame, feel free to join me, Master. I cannot stop you.

Chapter Text

Bond 1. “Nice to meet me? We already met when you summoned me. I’ve been here for how long? It’s fine. It’s our first time fighting together.”

Bond 2. “Gotta admit. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be. Keep it up, Master. Let’s compete to impress each other, yeah?”

Bond 3. “The circumstances suck, but I’m having a good time fighting alongside you. Do you think we make a good team?”

Bond 4. “Hey... Master... Don’t fight with the other guys, okay? We’re all the ‘same’ hero, but we’re not the same person. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. ...Forget it. It’s nothing.”

Bond 5. “The heroes that share the same name as me... Everyone looks at them first. Masters assume that because I’m the ‘prototype’ that I’m less than them. Gets old. You look at me. I like that.”

Bond 6.  “Let’s go somewhere. I don’t like being stuck inside like this all the time. You like fishing? Hunting? No? I can teach you. I’ll give you a stick and call it a spear. We’ll go after boar. I’ll even show you how to cook right in the wild.”

Bond 7. “Sharp spear, sharper mind, right, Master? We’re unstoppable together. When we fight side-by-side, I remember my teacher, Scathach. She always had my back when I couldn’t watch my own. It’s hard to stand next to someone I don’t know as well, but... I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other.”

Bond 8. “You look out your window late at night a lot. What do you think about when you stare at the sky? I do that, too--think about the here and there and now and then. When I look up, I see you. And then I see you next to me and I... Never mind. Get rest tonight. I’m worried.”

Bond 9. “What do you want to do when the Holy Grail War is over? I thought we could travel. Pack a couple bags. Climb mountains. Live in the woods. We can take the hounds. They’re perfect for that. We can sleep with them curled up at our feet. The fireplace will be going in front of our bear rug. What do you think? ...Never mind. No, I haven’t thought about it yet.” 

Bond 10. “The Holy Grail... if it will separate us, I don’t want it. I have terrible luck. Bad with life, worse with women. Knowing that, we would never get to stay together. That isn’t what I want. It wouldn’t matter if you were man, woman, or missing your arms and legs. I will serve you until long after you’re gone. I am yours, in spear and soul.”

Chapter Text

“I could use your input on something,” I say to the ceiling. I lie flat on the carpet staring at the dust in the corner of the room. The air is heavy. Everything aches.

Sanson looks up from the book in his hand and tilts his head. “Of course, Master. How can I help?”

“I’ve spent a lot of years considering myself ‘at peace’ with my own mortality. I’ve failed enough suicide attempts to feel like Death and I have an understanding, and all my close calls really have me thinking I’m supposed to be alive,” I tell him.

“That’s possible,” Sanson says. He tucks a bookmark between his open pages and sets the book aside. “Everyone is destined to meet the end eventually.”

“I know that, I just… I’ve never been comfortable with other people’s mortality. I don’t handle loss well.”

He sets his elbow on the arm of his chair and leans into his hand. He frowns as if to tell me that this is not new information. 

“I feel like I’ve been grieving every day since I found out about my grandpa. Can we grieve people that are still alive? Is it loss if they aren’t dead yet? I’ve spent so long thinking that I’m comfortable with the nothing that I think comes after all of this.” I wave my hands in the general direction of space. 

Sanson leans back into the chair and tilts his head back, gazing into the same abyss that I find myself lost in. He says nothing.

“I’m scared,” I admit. “And I’m sad. I think I’m having an existential crisis.”

I exhale a heavy breath out my nose that causes my lungs to quiver. I cover my cough with the sleeve of my shirt and leave my arm hanging across my face. We sit in silence a moment. Or a minute. Or an hour. I can’t tell. Time doesn’t pass right here. It doesn’t pass right anywhere.

The sound of Sanson’s socks shuffling across the carpet reaches my ears. He makes himself at home sitting next to me on the floor. 

“There’s a certain honor that comes with what I’ve done,” he says. He looks longingly at his feet as he curls and stretches his toes in his socks. “Executions allow me to send someone from this life to the next without pain or suffering. Even the worst of criminals deserve an easy journey. By the time the blade reaches a man’s neck, they should have already suffered enough.”

“What about your work as a doctor?”

He hums in thought. “I was never qualified to be a doctor. I did study the bodies of those I executed. And I used to grow herbs in my garden to use for producing various medications.”

I urge him to continue, desperate for anything that will make the sinking feeling in my stomach float away.

“I never enjoyed the family business,” he says. “I lost a lot of opportunities because I was from a line of executioners. It’s not what I wanted to do. It’s what was always expected of me. I would’ve liked to be a doctor. Saving lives is better than ending them.”

It strikes me as ironic that a caricature of the guillotine’s inception speaks to me with remorse weighing his words. He speaks of his duty as a cross to bear, and I wonder how heavy the lives of the innocent are compared to the lives of the wicked. 

I ask him if there’s anything he can tell me to make dealing with grief and losses easier, if there’s some secret that we’re all missing out on that makes the pain go away. He shakes his head at me and pats the hand hanging over my face. I grab onto his hand and hold it. The comfort of another person feels nice.

“The executioner, the doctor, and the hospice care nurse share similar intentions–we all want to ease the pain of others. If everyone could handle the responsibility of human life, there’d be no medical staffing shortage in your era.”

I snort. He makes a good point.

“No, death never stops being difficult,” he says. He rubs his eyes with the back of his free hand. “Even as I achieved maximum efficiency while reducing my own involvement, it struck me that every lifeless body belonged to someone with a family. They had a family and a home and a life that they lived. They had a role they filled in the lives of others. It was my job to take that away.”

“How do you sleep at night?” I ask. I fumble over myself, regretting my phrasing as soon as the words fall out of my mouth. “I don’t mean that as an insult, I’m sure you get asked that all the time. I mean, you don’t like what you had to do so do you feel comfortable with it or at peace with it now?”

He gives me a warm smile. His face lights up and jacket collar falls to one side. “No. I don’t think I’ll ever be at peace with the feeling that I was ‘playing God’ by ending lives before God took them on his own.”

I don’t tell him that I don’t believe in God. Or gods. Or afterlife. Or anything of the sort. It’s hard to say I don’t believe in afterlife when the universe allows me to communicate with a dead man. I think he already knows, because he doesn’t wait for me to respond.

He says, “People have access to technology that will extend their lifespan for years beyond what their body should be capable of. But it’s just another way man tries to play God and prolong the inevitable.” He removes his hand from mine and plants it on my forehead. “Whatever someone believes, I hope that they find the truth without pain when their time comes.”

I roll onto my side and curl up in a ball facing Sanson, loosely pressing my forehead to his legs. He rubs my back in circles and assures me that everyone finds what they’re looking for once they’re free of their body’s shackles. I debate on whether or not to believe him.

Chapter Text

  • Astolfo is introduced to Master’s child right after being summoned. In fact, the child was in the room while Master was performing the summoning ritual. Who really knows how ethical that is? Not Astolfo. And who really cares how ethical that is? Also not Astolfo.
    • “Hello, little prince/princess! My name’s Astolfo. I’m here to fight in a battle for a wish-granting magic cup. Are you going to lead us to victory?”
  • The child looks confused, because a strange-looking person just appeared out of the ground? They ask if Astolfo is a boy or a girl, and Astolfo gets sheepish and doesn’t say anything.
  • Master pulls Astolfo aside and expresses concern about what type of influence this could be on their pure, innocent, obviously-perfect child. Astolfo takes offense to this but is respectful of Master’s wishes to present a professional face in front of the little one.
  • Not the worst Master he’s ever had, but still a bummer. Plus Master makes no secret of having wanted to summon Charlemagne, which is a slap in the face when Astolfo hears it enough times. 
  • When Astolfo finds himself frustrated and upset with Master, he blames himself for not being a better paladin, convinced he deserves the 3rd degree he receives on the regular. 
  • Master’s child is the bright spot during this Holy Grail War. Astolfo spends time with the “little prince/princess” whenever he can, even introducing them to Hippogriff. 
  • Each time he heads into battle or leaves on a mission with Master, the little one bids him farewell and hugs his leg. They tell him that he’s their hero, and he crumbles inside, because how could anyone find him heroic with this pink braid and women’s underwear?
  • He becomes close with the child, as close as Master allows. They sort-of use him for free babysitting while they’re off doing other things. He can’t cook to save his life, but he takes the wee one out for food and makes sure they’re in bed on time. He tries his best and makes for an almost-useful nanny when he’s not taking commands from Master.

“You want to be like me when you grow up?! AH! Don’t say that. I’m nothing special. I’m kind of bad at pretty much everything. I don’t feel very welcome here, either…”

“Wait, I have an idea. Try this crown on. Yep! Perfect. Now you’re a little paladin instead! Onward to the battlefield, Little Paladin! The Holy Grail awaits!”

Chapter Text

Bond 1. “Tch. Should you refuse to recognize me as your king, you will find yourself losing your greatest asset.”

Bond 2. “Consider yourself fortunate, mongrel. Though you are unworthy of my efforts, my boredom begs to be resolved.”

Bond 3. “Able as I am, I am uninterested in the affairs of weak men. Watching rodents provides more entertainment than eliminating an opponent myself.”

Bond 4. “From the beginning and beyond time I have collected wonders, but my Gate of Babylon only as expansive as the works of man. Serve me well and perhaps I will show you.”

Bond 5. “You have the nerve to look at your king and claim he is not the strongest of your servants?! Would you serve a lesser man? You receive one chance to beg for forgiveness. Do not waste it.”

Bond 6. “I should punish you for ordering me to stand beside the weak. It would be an honor, for you, to be bound by my Chains of Heaven and held against your will. You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Fufufu. Unfortunately there’s nothing divine about you, so my Chains would be useless.”

Bond 7. “You would be so fortunate that I am showing you something magnificent, something that only I am capable of, mongrel. Come. Don’t look away… Breathtaking, isn’t it? Men as ants in a colony of their own, unaware of how fun they are to observe, and what a nuisance they are to protect. This is the world I seek to maintain, as well.”

Bond 8. “There is a book I would have you read… This is the first hand-scripted work by the author. You are surprised I have this? Language is man’s most precious creation. The written word is a timeless gift. It has a place within my Gate of Babylon, and only I possess the entirety of it. Come. I will allow you to step inside my endless library. Don’t touch anything.”

Bond 9. “You continue to push the boundaries of my patience, but… I do not find you insufferable. Your inquisitive nature amuses me. For each ridiculous question I answer, you present me with more. Inconvenient as it is, I am entertained. You may continue to open yourself to me. I will receive you with pleasure.”

Bond 10. “I admit, you serve me exceptionally well. I have come to value you beyond what I anticipated. Dedicate yourself to me, today and all days. You will forever belong to me. At my side you will want for nothing. I will tear apart entire worlds, should it be necessary to satisfy you. All you have to do is remain in my servitude, never forgetting your place at my feet. That seems more than in your favor, does it not?”

Chapter Text

  • Cu wonders if Master is a dog person–the pups have been receptive to Master’s bribes of Evil Bones. They’re not fans of new people, but they both took to Master from day one.
  • He bets that Master is hiding dog treats that are 100% not made for wolves, but his are big babies and will do anything for a snack. A pleasant coincidence that Master is also a snack.
  • He thinks master looks kind of cute curled up in a ball between two massive beasts. Their face is tucked under one maw and there’s a paw on their shoulder and it’s like they’re all group hugging and dear gods who said this much cute was okay?
  • The wolves notice their dad’s presence and rouse. He tries to hush them, cringing at the thought of waking Master up. But the big boys are too excited, and they do their tippy taps around him with loud howls.
  • Master sits up and fixes their hair a little, and scrambles backwards to get away from the wolves. They sputter a bunch of uncomfortable words. Cu can’t take his eyes off of them, thinking how precious they looked and how annoyed he is that it’s ruined.
  • He offers his hand to help Master off the floor, but when he does the wolves jump on him from behind and knock him onto the floor next to Master. The wolves attack their people from both sides, shoving them into each other while being as inconvenient as possible. 
  • It’s like they planned this or something.

Chapter Text

Bond 1. “I’d rather not get involved in this Grand Order ordeal. I’m worthless in battle, I assure you.”

Bond 2. “I consider ’Mini-Waver’ is an insult. Being bronze in rarity does not make me unworthy of my True Name.”

Bond 3. “If you are going to force me to participate, I would prefer being allowed to make my own decisions.”

Bond 4. “I estimate that you are missing a number of brain cells. I wonder how you manage to tie your shoes without falling over yourself… But your dedication and reckless stupidity make you a worthy protagonist.”

Bond 5. “You aren’t as ill-equipped to work with me as I thought. Perhaps this partnership can be mutually-beneficial in the future.”

Bond 6. “Do you think I would have become a Heroic Spirit if I had succeeded as an actor or a poet instead of a weaver of children’s tales…? I said weaver not Waver! I still refuse to acknowledge that obnoxious title Chaldea has given me.”

Bond 7. “If I were to write the Tale of Chaldea, would I begin at the part where a mediocre magus is tasked with saving humanity? Or would I start where they show sympathy to devils and go weak in the knees for any pretty face?” 

Bond 8. “Despite my eventual success in life, I suffered alone in poverty, never once reaching the dreams I held closest. I died clutching the undying light of hope that I desperately spread to others, wishing a better future for the children.”

Bond 9. “I never thought to publish my autobiography. The rest of the world would find no value in it. I found the exercise in writing it quite cathartic. It gave me the opportunity to explore my own values and assess them as I would another person. Since being summoned, I have thought about it more often.”

Bond 10. “I have been vilified as writer that thrived on sour endings, and you have accepted me. I have insulted you to your face in the name of brazen honesty, and you have encouraged me still. My uselessness and negativity have yet to drive you away. I could ask for no greater gift than the bond I am able to share with you. Thank you.”

Chapter Text


  • Big fluffy idiot. He wants to be your shoulder to cry on, but honestly he kind of sucks at it because he’s been around so long and has a motivational speech for every situation.
  • He only wants to be the shoulder so he can absorb that sweet emotional energy to fuel himself. Other than that he doesn’t care. 
    • The emotions that he has absorbed nudge him in one direction or another as far as sympathy or empathy goes. Though he doesn’t experience empathy himself, the emotions he gets from others do and that’s almost the same thing but not really? 
    • He doesn’t like to explain it. It bores him.
  • Will drop off the planet for extended periods of time without saying where he went. History’s oldest hermit has an image to maintain.
  • The Grand Order is the most fun he’s had in a long time. He complains about boredom despite being busy, and he can be doing one thing with a group of people then vanish to do another on a whim with no traces left. 
  • The Camelot crew urges him against pulling cheeky bullshit with you.
  • Often finds himself in sensitive situations. Knows he shouldn’t make light of sensitive situations. Does it anyway. 
  • Great at games because he’s great at everything. It pisses other servants off. It even pisses you off. He’ll be playing a video game or a card game for the first time and shark his way to victory. Damn Clairvoyance.
  • Wizards are far beyond the reach of any ordinary magus such as yourself, but he likes to try to teach you. He’ll start with silly magic tricks and branch into impressive mage-craft over time. It requires you to wear different Mystic Codes, and he enjoys demanding for costume changes.
  • Since you see him on a meta-level and not within the confines of his legend, he gets to be himself for the better and worse. Even when he should stop talking because he’s making an ass of himself, again.
  • Provides magical, mystical, one-of-a-kind experiences to those he keeps close, and you would be the closest because of the above. 
  • You get a flower crown for the first birthday he’s around you. It will never wilt or wither so long as you keep him close.

Conditions for Relationships

  • Merlin doesn’t experience human emotions. Being part incubus, he absorbs emotional energy from humans and their dreams. In that regard, he uses people. He siphons off of willing sexual partners and devours the dreams of the innocent. He can understand human emotions and replicate them, but ultimately cannot experience them.
  • He is exceptionally fond of humans, to an unnatural degree, which is what motivates his actions in preserving humanity with Chaldea. His hope and personal desire to watch them flourish drive him forward.
  • In Babylonia he mentions feeling a little more human after going through the singularity, and with that he finds himself conflicted for a brief moment. He considers the Master of Chaldea an ally and an unforgettable existence that he wishes the best for.

My interpretation of this is that because he is able to get something he wants or needs (emotional or sexual energy) from humans, he would be capable of entering a romantic relationship with one. 

He’d be feeding off of [partner]’s emotions, sexual energy, and dreams. He would understand the other party’s emotions and be able to show facades of the same, but he wouldn’t feel it the same, and he wouldn’t feel guilt over it because of the inability to sympathize or empathize. 

Respect, admiration, and loyalty would be the keys to getting Merlin in a relationship. At that point he would prefer [partner] to be around as opposed to not. That is what an interpretation of “love” could become for him. It would still involve him feeding off of them and toying with them, 

Chapter Text

Too much. 

It’s too much. It’s too much. It’s too much.

Of course the continuation of humanity has fallen onto him once more. He thought the Absolute Demonic Front was the end of his troubles, but no. They were only beginning. The weight of the world doesn’t belong on one man’s shoulders, no matter how capable that man is. 

It was he who moved man away from the Age of Gods and constructed a humanistic pathway for the human race to take into the future. He did this in his lifetime. He did this as the Wise King on the Demonic Front. He did this over and over, rescuing the species from near extinction at the cost of his sanity and occasionally his life. 

For what? Were there thanks to be had for his sacrifice? Was his glory spread the way it deserved to be? At what point would he be able to breathe without society crumbling when he exhaled? 

Perhaps it was the punishment of the gods for his betrayal of the purpose they set for him. Pathetic, that deities should feel the need to smite one man for their own follies. There must be better things to do than threaten humanity’s extinction on a regular basis.

New generations come with naivety, expecting a savior to come with a rope each time they throw themselves into a wishing well. The coins at the bottom are worth more than their ridiculous desires. They continue to jump without ever stopping to think that maybe they are the source of their own trouble.

Gods be damned. 

He would sacrifice himself a thousand times more if it meant–

“My King,” Master says, “are you coming to bed?”

He snorts and shakes his head. “After I finish these, I will.” 

Right. The letters he needs to send to other rulers about the predicament Chaldea is facing and how much they’ve taken on and how it’s too much for one master to handle. Irony at its finest.

He scratches a checkmark into the box next to the name of another hero. His partner approaches and sets their chin on his shoulder, leaning in to plant a kiss on his face. He turns and steals one from their lips. It tastes like tea. 

Tea would be so wonderful right now, he thinks.

“I made you a cup of tea,” they say. He melts. “Work will be here in the morning. Come to bed with me.”

“These have to get done,” he says. He nuzzles against them. The chill of their skin cools his cheeks. “Inconvenient as it is, someone has to do it. The other kings have already completed their contributions.”

Master wraps their arms around his chest. “The other kings accepted assistance from the rest of the Heroic Spirits. You’re just being stubborn.”

“True as that may be,” he mutters, “it still needs to be done.”

How he wishes to curl up under the sheets with his beloved in his arms. One night he would wait for them in bed instead of the other way around. He wonders if they would prefer him nude, or if he should style his hair like his Archer form. That man is such a–

His beloved collapses with a thud, a hand to their forehead, chest heaving with unsteady breaths.

“Oh, King Gilgamesh,” they cry. They sob loud enough for the hallway to echo outside his office. “I have fallen and cannot get up. Please, my wonderful, loving king, carry me to the safety of my personal quarters. Protect me from the dangerous creatures that come out at night.”

He lights up with amusement. A charmed smile touches his lips. What a peculiar person his master is, he thinks. It presents all the more reason for him to care for them as they do for him. They vie for his attention as though he refuses to give it. It serves as the ideal distraction. 

Master looks rather vulnerable splayed out on the floor like that. It’d be a shame if someone were to catch them looking so desirable.

They make an excellent point, too. Work will always be waiting for him tomorrow. At this moment, he has far more pressing matters to attend to.

Chapter Text

  • Moe is actually short for Gap Moe, ‘cause this servant is super awkward around the ego-feeding Master they’ve somehow acquired. Yes, it is true–the Knight of Treachery is so astonished by your behavior that they can’t say anything about it.
  • Mordred has noticed that you’re keeping track of what you say and what response it produces. They insist that they’re not an experiment, and you swear up and down that it’s totally innocent. 
    • “Give me the notebook, Master… …GAH. What is all this embarrassing shit you’re writing about me? Are those… dates? Times? YOU’RE TAKING NOTES ON ME? Like HELL you’re getting this back.”
      • So much precious research gone to waste. Curses. 
  • Compliments about their beauty get smacked down, and Moe makes it clear how unwelcome the comments are. You’re not supposed to treat them like a woman. Or a man. Which is hard, because you try to SCREAM to the heavens all the time about how adorable your servant is but nope, you get whacked upside the head instead. 
    • Behind closed doors they smile at the thought that someone finds them attractive. It’s a consequence of both age and insecurity that they want to be told they’re attractive, but they don’t actually want to hear it. It’s complicated. 
  • Praising the Knight’s fighting capabilities is a safe bet. They still don’t know how to receive such lofty praise, but they’ll grow into it eventually. Maybe. Probably not. Don’t blame them for shutting you down if you try it, they’re always comparing themselves to the King of Knights. Daddy issues or something.
  • Praising their skill in other pursuits like eating or playing video games is also a safe bet. Never, ever “let” Mordred win anything if the case presents itself. No matter how encouraging you try to be that way, they’ll kick your ass for it. It’s a sign of disrespect to underestimate them.
  • Moe’s favorite flattery is that they’re going to make an excellent king and hero. This particular compliment makes them feel like a dominant, powerful figure that could crush any adversary. It’s an additional morale boost on top of Mana Burst. 

“It’s weird to have someone supporting me like you are, Master. I don’t know if I like it or hate it.  You’re kind of embarrassing me… Not in a bad way!”

“Maybe if you saved it for the Singularities. You can brag all you want about how great I am. And I’ll have every chance to prove it!”

“I’ll take on every battle myself if you keep giving me that sweet stuff, Master.”

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The Wizard is, by all accounts, a monster that can only bring pain. Half-incubus, he feeds on the dreams and desires of the humans he hopes to protect. Though he devours the individual, he seeks a bright future for the species. 

Absorbing human energy causes odd sensations. There are moments he feels. He couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, but it’s there. He wonders how he can frown when he can’t feel bad, but thinks it his human half gravitating toward the affection of others. He can’t be damned to figure out if it’s his human half or his latest meal that causes it. 

For years he watched the humans from his tower in the Garden of Avalon. He played a neutral observer, resisting the urge to interfere with the events his Clairvoyance showed him. 

Though he cannot feel their pain, The Wizard suffers alongside them–alongside the dying planet. A black hole sometimes opens up in his stomach at the thought of their failure. He could think of nothing worse.

The Wizard was pulled into the fray by his own dreams, which told him how necessary his role in the coming battle would be. He dreamed of protecting the army of heroes that The Master would call upon, smacking down Demon Pilars with his staff and casting spells with Excalibur. 

The Wizard waited an eternity to meet The Master in his dreams.

They battle demons more powerful than Death. They face The End and continue long after they’re spent. He finds himself charmed by The Master that takes on the greatest threat in the Multiverse with a smile on their face. 

There was one where The Master stopped in the middle of battle, with tentacles crushing the ground around them. And the black hole opened up in The Wizard, as he could think of nothing worse than losing humanity’s only hope here. 

The Master said this was not the hardest battle they faced, and they knew it wouldn’t be their last if they succeeded. But they told The Wizard that they were afraid and asked him hold their hand. 

The black hole became more like a white hole; it didn’t hurt or try to steal his organs. There was something warm inside him. The Master reminded him of his greatest achievement for a moment, with light radiating from them in their darkest moment. 

He thought he might take The Master’s hand, just to see what it felt like.

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Bond 1. The summoning platform revealed a monster, impossibly tall with pulsing muscles. It gives a curt nod to its master in recognition and releases a hot breath out flared nostrils. 

Bond 2. He would be astonished to see the live-action recreations and animated features about his life. Not that he would be capable of absorbing them through the Madness Enhancement...

Bond 3. ...Or would he? There are times when he appears offended by his portrayal in comics, which implies he must have some amount of comprehension ability... but the BerserCAR makes him want to smile.

Bond 4. If only his master could see into his head. He tries to share his dream-landscapes, but each attempt overwhelms Master and leaves them in agony. He chooses to keep them at a distance in hopes of protecting them.

Bond 5. Beneath the Madness Enhancement, he wishes to thank his master for the opportunity to fight with honor. To have become a Berserker is a scar upon his legend that he wears with shame. 

Bond 6. Hera, infuriated by her partner’s frequent acts of betrayal, held grudges against the children Zeus sired. This child was named Alcides, but his human mother and foster father renamed him Heracles in hopes of appeasing the goddess. This plan failed, and in life he faced trials designed just for him by Hera herself.

Bond 7. He was doomed from birth by Hera’s hand, stripped of the power he should have held as a demigod. It is ironic, then, that he was given his abilities by her breast, when she nursed the abandoned baby out of pity. It was her breast that birthed the Milky Way, and the same that fed a hero.

Bond 8. A “fit of madness” is what the history books teach it as, but it was a curse destined to kill him from the inside. He was pushed into a rage by Hera. There was no safety. There was no security. It was pain, day in and day out, forever.

Bond 9. He was told that, as a reward for completion of 10 Labors, he would be purified of his sin. He would gain the immortality afforded to gods. But his beloved was gone. His children were dead by his own hands. Was his suffering thus-far meaningless? Would there come a time he didn’t have to ache anymore?  

Bond 10.  His wishes to his father are immortalized in the constellation of Engonasin. He remembers dipping to the ground beneath this same patchwork of stars, and prayer falling off his lips into Zeus’s ear. In another time, he would have been proud to gaze upon the celestial memorial. But here, he is Bersker. And there, he will forever be Heracles “the Kneeler”, who would overcome all in his path at any cost. 

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  • In the time Gawain fell for his master, he learned surprisingly little about what went on in their head. Master did mention mental health issues to him off-hand once or twice but never went into detail.
    • Master has always kept the door open for him in case of emergencies. The day Master keeps their door locked, Gawain realizes something is very wrong. He pulls out every stop he can think of to make his love’s life easier during their time of need.
  • Turns his volume down to ease Master’s mind. Takes care to tap on the door instead of pounding on it when asking for entry to Master’s room. Speaks lower. Uses casual language instead of knight-speak. 
  • Brings Master their one meal a day, refills their glass of water, and tidies up their room before leaving. Occasionally comes with a fresh box of tissues and an extra grocery bag or two in case they puke, which happens with no warning.
  • Keeps his distance, well aware that if he forces too much TLC on Master, they react poorly. 
  • He’s noticed that they take it as pressure when he asks them questions or gives direction, which worsens their condition. In lieu of talking, he comes in and works without speaking and instead communicates with gestures or facial expressions. 
    • He’s displeased by how indirect and uncertain the communication becomes at this point, but he’ll do what he has to to keep the situation under control. Master’s comfort is more important.
  • He encourages them to bathe, but if they don’t wash themselves he’ll assist. He’s unafraid of their greasy hair, oily skin, and smelly armpits. He takes his time being cautious as possible as to not set them off.
  • When his beloved is in an anxious state or ceases to function, he steps up and puts in the effort where they cannot. He completes any tasks assigned to them that he is capable of, and delegates the others.
  • Researches grounding and mindfulness techniques to practice. He sees the value in working together to learn to cope with overwhelming stress.
  • Allows his precious to take all the time they need to recover from their dysfunctional state, and is willing to wait it out with them. He’ll continue to take care of his love, change their sheets, and help them into clothes that don’t smell like cold sweat and shame.

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Heyo, Chaldeluxe!

I feel so fortunate that I've been with FGONA since day one, and even though I spoiled the story for myself over a year ago I was still hit hard with the final singularity. Since not everyone has finished the Seventh Singularity: Solomon yet, I've set up a separate work for some pieces I'm working on pertaining to the last section of the story. It's going to swap POVs between first and third, but follows the Master the way I often write them. It's canon-compliant and takes place during what we would consider "off-screen" moments between the battles with the final boss. It's introspection-heavy and talks about anxiety and fear and self-loathing, which are things I pull out of the story from what we see and what we can infer from Shirou's level of introspection in Fate/Stay Night.

It's also based on the team of 5 that I took to the last battles of Solomon, because I want to celebrate the servants that I took to the end. Yes, I only took 5 servants. 4 of mine and a Friend Support.

Chapter 1 of Last Rites is available here. 

Characters: Gilgamesh | Archer, Merlin | Caster, Gilgamesh | Caster, Ozymandias | Rider, Heracles | Berserker, Romani Archaman, Goetia | Beast

Summary: Companion material to Chaldea, Collected based at the end of the Seventh Singularity: Solomon. Following the collapse of the 72 Demon Pillars, the Master of Chaldea experiences inner turmoil and requires the support of the servants that followed them to the final battle.

Chapter 1 Notes: I've taken liberties with Gudako in these, focusing on introspection and self-awareness in her situation. This is based roughly on my own "experiences" as the Master of Chaldea in the Final Singularity. This Guda is anxious, annoyed, and angry at her situation and it reflects in her interactions with the 5 Servants that came to each of the final battles with Solomon/Goetia.

Thanks for checking in! Regular content will be resumed from here, though I'm definitely going to shill the links to new chapters of this noise where I can.



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  • Carmilla plays piano exceptionally well. It’s a secret pastime of hers that she explores in the solitude of her castle. And, unlike her “idol” counterpart, she has a haunting operatic singing voice that would make the Phantom of the Opera ripe with envy. 
  • Hates horror media. The 21st century has ruined the art of terror in her eyes. Serialized films about ghosts and angry dolls are so trite. A waste of time and resources.
  • Lives the FemDom lifestyle to the fullest, and she’s more than willing to share it with her Master. She isn’t afraid of explaining the finer details of her medieval living quarters at Chaldea. She doesn’t go out of her way to talk about her preferences, but if anyone asks, she’ll give them way more information than they want (even the children).
  • The thought of causing suffering to those that don’t deserve it makes her sick. While she has come to terms with her past, she refuses to make the same mistakes again. She still wants to be eternal, but would rather get her youth from people that deserve to die.
  • Not eager to fight as a servant, but if it’s a responsibility of her role she’ll fulfill it. She worries that, even now, she is still the enemy and fighting for the wrong things. 
  • Gets along well with a male or female master, and has no preference either way. She’s long past her days of torturing innocents and Master is the most innocent of innocents. 
  • Low-ranking Presence Concealment prevents her from creeping, so she never makes a secret of her looming presence in social situations. Doesn’t WANT to enjoy the company of others, but totally does. She gets along best with other misunderstood or troubled figures.  
    • Kiyohime may benefit from her nihilistic views on companionship, or could get pissed off about it, or might feel comfortable to have Master to herself.
    • Mash is the exact type of girl Carmilla would’ve loved to bathe in back in the day, and she has a hard time resisting it.
    • Medb would be uncomfortable around Carmilla, but Carmilla would love to make Medb suffer in all the best ways. Sexually. And then kill her. Sexually.
    • Eurayle, Stheno, and Medusa would get along with Carmilla on a surface level but none of them want to concede to her glory so they avoid her anyway.
    • Chloe would be Carmilla’s little protege with all that Kissing Freak noise, and Carmilla would ensure that Chloe never ends up like her.
    • Marie Antoinette is annoying but adorable. Carmilla sees her as a pet, and wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Feels similarly about Ibaraki Doji and Frankenstein.
    • Jack the Ripper, who thinks everyone is their mom, would likely benefit from having Carmilla as a mom. That’d be a mutually-beneficial partnership. Carmilla likes kids that aren’t her younger self. 
    • Any Saints or religious servants have a hard time around Carmilla, but she’s receptive to their preaching and self-righteousness. She doesn’t try to shut them down. Instead, she finds herself fascinated with the wide range of views housed at Chaldea and thrills in philosophical discussion.

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  • The goal of communication in relationships is to come to mutual understanding. After discussing your sexuality (or lack thereof), neither of these men hold asexuality “against” you. They both respect and appreciate your willingness to talk about it. The fact you even felt comfortable enough to discuss such a touchy subject with them is a huge sign of trust.
  • Emiya is low-key happy his partner is asexual. His traumatic past experiences make it difficult for him to open up. He’s never been confident, in or out of bed. Erasing sex from the equation removes a load of pressure. 
    • There are infinite things he finds better than sex. He loves doing little every day in hopes of making your life easier. And he loves when you do the same for him, though he never wants to admit it. 
    • His limited sexual history makes him wary of experimenting in the present, and the scars on his body kill his self-image more than it’s already dead. He could use the reminder that he’s still handsome and lovable, even if neither of you want to smash.
    • If a mana transfer has to be done, you’re going to have to be the one to initiate it. He won’t bring it up on his own and would rather die than ask for help in such a sensitive situation. You both find it a chore, but it’s a chore he shares with you that gives him physical pleasure and oh no he’s conflicted again.
  • Cu is a little disappointed because he finds you ridiculously attractive, but he respects your position and doesn’t pressure you into anything you’re not comfortable with. 
    • The relationship is founded on friendship and going with the flow. If you feel the urge to talk about sex or your sexuality he will let you lead the conversation. He doesn’t ask questions, but he doesn’t have to–he listens the first time through.
    • He’s bedded quite a few people in the past, and that doesn’t affect his loyalty to you in any way. He respects you as his Master and friend. There’s no reason to betray that bond.
    • Cracks jokes about the lack of sex life, but doesn’t actually mind. 
  • Unless he feels like he absolutely needs a mana transfer because he’s about to die or something, he’s never going to suggest sex. If it has to be done, he will do whatever it takes to make you comfortable. 

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Just letting you know that Last Rites Chapter 2: It Will Be I is up now, right here!

Characters: Gilgamesh | Archer, Merlin | Caster, Gilgamesh | Caster, Ozymandias | Rider, Heracles | Berserker, Romani Archaman, Goetia | Beast

Summary: Companion material to Chaldea, Collected based at the end of the Seventh Singularity: Solomon. Following the collapse of the 72 Demon Pillars, the Master of Chaldea experiences inner turmoil and requires the support of the servants that followed them to the final battle.

Chapter 2 Notes: A Pharaoh keeps his promise, and expects the same in return. | Following this chapter, I'm going to be exploring the battle and the unique mechanics of each of the team members during the fight with Goetia. This will end up highlighting Merlin, CasGil, and Heracles in particular in battle since I already touched on Gil and Ozy. I'm looking forward to writing combat and showing my shitty master's good side.

I'm a filthy shill. Thanks for supporting my terrible writing!

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  • There’s an aching sense of familiarity when the dark-skinned assassin appears at Chaldea. Diarmuid can’t put his finger on it, but the discomfort stabs him through the stomach. (Literally.)
  • His combat style isn’t compatible with that of assassins, and he shows no interest in fighting alongside EMIYA when Master assigns them to the same team. (Something about crit stars?)
  • At some point, Master calls on EMIYA’s Noble Phantasm and the memory comes rushing back to Diarmuid in the middle of battle. He collapses in shock, gripping his stomach and cursing under his breath.
  • Oh lord does he want to drive a cursed spear right through that man’s stomach. He wishes to inflict a wound that never heals, to create a scar that never heals. Maybe that man would understand dignity if he were forced to lose his own.
  • Diarmuid comes to feel that this fate is not one he wishes on Kiritsugu Emiya. On the contrary, he pities the assassin. Life is meaningless without friends, loyalty, or companionship. And those are all things unknown to the Counter Guardian. 
  • He accepts that Master values EMIYA’s presence, And he accepts that he and EMIYA are fundamentally incompatible. He steels himself when fighting at EMIYA’s side, and treats him with the same respect afforded to any other servant.
  • But if Kiritsugu Emiya even looked at Master in the wrong way, Diarmuid wouldn’t hesitate to send him back to the Throne of Heroes.

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Last Rites Chapter 3: Battle Continuation is up for your enjoyment and suffering!

Characters: Gilgamesh | Archer, Merlin | Caster, Gilgamesh | Caster, Ozymandias | Rider, Heracles | Berserker, Romani Archaman, Goetia | Beast

Summary: Companion material to Chaldea, Collected based at the end of the Seventh Singularity: Solomon. Following the collapse of the 72 Demon Pillars, the Master of Chaldea experiences inner turmoil and requires the support of the servants that followed them to the final battle.

Chapter 3 Notes: This segment is about battle and tactics in the fight with Goetia and shows the poorly written Guda's practical side in the fight once she gets her act together. Guda gives orders and gets fucked up. Right before they're all about to go blasting off again a la Team Rocket, Merlin saves everyone's ass and even sneaks a kiss out of Guda for "mana-only purposes."

Thanks for the support, still! More requests and HCs/imagines within this collection are coming up.

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  • Master is still in college when Jack falls into their lap. They weren’t planning on having children of their own. The economy is terrible and Master can barely take care of themselves.
  • They learn to prepare meals other than cereal and ramen. Feeding their adoptive murder child the hearts of human beings that were probably alive earlier that day is weird, and it never gets less weird.
  • Master doesn’t invite their friends to meet Jack for fear of having to explain how they came into possession of the soul of aborted children. In conversations they allude to having a new family member, which outsiders might assume is a dog. Joke’s on them, it’s a serial killer.
  • They can’t hide Jack forever and they don’t want to be the type of person that caused Jack pain in the first place. The child’s Presence Concealment doesn’t make it easier, because the guilt of feeling like they have to hide the child is overwhelming. And the air is thicker when Jack is hidden, which could raise questions about why Master is sweating all the time. 
  • Jack promises to be on their best behavior when meeting Master’s family. They go shopping for real clothes together and Master gives the assassin etiquette lessons. Jack is appreciative, but doesn’t know how to show it without the urge to stab Master and crawl back into their stomach. Jack offers to do this, but Master politely declines.
  • Master introduces Jack as being part of a foster-to-adopt program for children with troubled backgrounds. Their parents wonder how they got the approval to join the program when they’re broke and suck at everything. 
    • Master takes all the skills they learned in Public Speaking and go on a passionate rant about the importance of providing under-privileged children with the same opportunities that the more fortunate have.
    • Jack loves this, and couldn’t feel more fortunate to have a master that loves them so much. They take on the world together hand-in-hand. 

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  • Proto Gil is a lot like his other forms that could almost fool someone into believing he belongs alongside them. He thinks he’s the greatest thing in the history of Earth. There is enjoyment in watching Heroic Spirits battle. The Holy Grail still belongs to him, but in this form he doesn’t really care about it because he’s busy enjoying the “now.” 
  • Unlike his other selves, Proto Gil lacks the demeanor and maturity of a king. He behaves like a brute, in a fashion that his adult Archer and Caster form openly look down on. Even Ko-Gil finds him insufferable. 
  • Proto Gil doesn’t see much beyond skin. Given his relative immaturity, he tends to gravitate toward younger people that may be more susceptible to his Charisma. This could easily lead him into a relationship with an idiot or a mirror. Or the idiot in the mirror.
  • When his master demands he “stop acting like a mongrel,” Gil is infuriated. They have some nerve to talk to him that way. They have no RIGHT to talk to him that way. He is the king of all Heroic Spirits, and he deserves respect, dammit!
    • But he accepts that Master has a point. He’s briefly met his older selves and was startled by how different he is from them. Being that he is a rough draft of what they became, he feels as though he is worth “less” than them, because he is not his best self. Boy does that piss him off.
  • From the time Master calls him out onward, he behaves more like a king and less like a child. Other servants treat him with more respect as a result, which comes as a pleasant surprise. (But then he’s pissed that they weren’t respecting him to start, and that becomes a whole thing.)
  • He feels gratitude toward his master for encouraging him to be the best version of himself. He finds himself attracted to them, but can’t put his finger on why. He figures it’s because nobody in Uruk looks like them (and nobody but Enkidu had the guts to chide him). 
  • Once he gets the idea to woo Master, he pulls out all the stops. He’s glad to have someone worthy of sharing experiences with. Fancy dinners flown in from other countries. Nights on a skyscraper’s rooftop, lying on a blanket under the stars. Lavish gifts and constant spoiling make his feelings obvious. 
    • If Master reciprocates, they should confess to him. He won’t lay a hand on them without their permission, now that he sees them as a person and not a walking mana reservoir. 
    • If Master doesn’t reciprocate, he’ll continue impressing them until they fall in love with him. Then he’ll cackle saying he knew all along that they had feelings for him. 
  • In the long-term, he’d enjoy building a relationship and seeing the world with Master. He’ll likely propose to them in whatever fashion is expected of their cultural heritage. Or maybe he’ll just tell them one day that they’re getting married. It’s depends on his mood.

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A table can spread wide as an empire, yet provide no nourishment and sate no hunger. A full stomach and an empty heart, you could say.

I cannot say I am proud of all decisions I have made. I earned the titles that have survived me in history. “Dictator” and “tyrant” are but two I’ve become accustomed to. Even when appointed, I resigned. I was appointed once more and could no longer refuse.

Lest the world forget my achievements, for of those there are also many. I demanded term limits be applied to all governors under me. I restructured the system of debt and was able to eliminate over a quarter of what the people owed.  I sought to reduce the significance of luxury in the lives of the Roman populous, and instead reward modesty and family-building.  In this way, it could be considered ironic that I was known to feast when there was famine. It was never in ill-will, I assure you. 

There was a woman whose beauty was overshadowed by her intellect and will. I sired a child with her while maintaining an affair. Oh, the trouble it caused. I knew someday I would be punished for transgressions against the gods and people. I could receive no greater punishment than the separation from the strongest queen to ever live, and the wonderful son she bore me.

The men believed I’d live forever. I, too, thought this. To be stabbed in the back by my own compatriot, someone I would have once called “friend” was a shock, to be sure. But I cannot say for certain if it was an unwelcome one. A day comes where what we truly want is rest. That I can have this, and exist in peace at last, is more than enough.

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This precious gift from above is a switch, meaning that he will play the top or the bottom depending on the situation. Being the dominant partner in a relationship doesn’t equate to being cold or overbearing. Being the submissive doesn’t require weakness or obedience. Sexuality and pleasure exist on their own spectrums, and neither has to work exclusively one way.

As the Dominant Partner

  • His objective as the dominant is to give his lover the greatest physical pleasures they’ll ever know, to the point they’ll never be able to imagine another partner.
  • Nurturing, offering tender love and affection to his partner. He’ll ask for their permission before doing anything and always ask if they’re okay. He’ll talk them through new positions, give gentle orders in their ear, and remind them how loved they are.
  • When giving head, he wants to be buried between his lover’s legs, nibbling at the skin of their thighs gently. From down here he commands them with his eyes and with subtle movements--head tilts, winks, and leers. Enjoys giving head from his knees while his partner is standing up so their legs shake the whole time and he has to hold them up. Watching them go weak for him is ridiculously hot. He’ll drag them down when he’s done and kiss them hard on the mouth so they taste themselves.
  • When receiving head, he prefers to be sitting or lying down. Not much one for face-fucking, but he’ll grab his lover by their hair and move them up and down his dick. And he’ll pull them up to swap spit and fluids without warning.
  • The more intimate the position, the better. It needs to provide as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. He needs to be able to see their face. For this reason, he likes variations of missionary, but he really likes pressing his partner’s legs back, folding them basically in half, and getting as deep as he can.
  • Rolls his hips slowly. On purpose. To be infuriating. Removes himself, stopping just before slipping out, before pushing himself back in. 
  • Loves tying knots. Dude was a traveling mercenary so it’s no surprise he wants to practice his Eagle Scout skills. He’ll bind his lover with anything he can find. Leather straps are his personal favorite, and wrists will be bound together with them above his lover’s head. 
  • Playful teasing back and forth has the potential to get sexual fast. A battle of wits will drive him wild. Because really, of all the things he loves about his partner, he'll enjoy their personality the most. Their laugh will bring him joy, and their bad jokes will turn him on as much as they'll give him a headache. 
  • Quiet. The sounds he makes will come under his breath, and off of his lips onto his lover's.

As the Submissive Partner

  • He knows what his partner is interested in when he's bottoming, and he happily complies. When it's his turn to accept his partner, he wants nothing more than to drown all of his senses in them. The stench of their sweat drives him forward. Their taste encourages him to skip breathing in lieu of endless kisses. 
  • Moans. Whimpers. Heavy breaths.
  • Needy. Holds on anywhere he can, whining if he can't have contact all over with them. He'll follow along with teasing, to a point, but the more his lover tortures him the greater his urge to swap roles is. 
  • When playing the submissive and getting oral, he constantly thanks his partner for loving him and gives them encouraging words. He says whatever urges them forward. In tandem with that, he loves sharing kisses and tasting himself on the other's lips. He prefers to be lying down or 69ing so he can still offer affection to his partner. Not being able to kiss them is the worst.
  • Obedient to partner's desires, following whatever torturous pace they decide to set. He hates being sequestered and teased to his breaking point, but it's so much fun that denying it is denying himself. Again, teasing is a game for him that gets hot and heavy fast. He has the patience of a saint, but he knows his partner's games and will push them as far as they can go. If he's going to throb in his tights, so are they.
  • Always open to trying new things. If his beloved wants to set him up in a new position while he receives them, he'll go along with it. As a bottom he enjoys being spread wide, exposed, and embarrassed, treated like a fine work of art that deserves to be on display.

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Thinking about Alters before answering: Saber Alter isn’t necessarily a villain but is instead a dark hero or an anti-hero. Even though she’s ruthless, she still holds to the same ideals, as does Lancer Alter. JAlter isn’t saintly but at her core still faces grief and emotional turmoil. Heracles as Alcides in Strange Fake wants to be called Alcides instead of Alter, but he’s still a darkened version of the same dude. They’re all “dark” versions of the same person. But as we see with SAlters and JAlters, there can be lots of different factors impacting the Alter servant as we see them.

I think Diarmuid Alter would still be chivalrous, knightly, respectful, and well-mannered. Like his normal selves, words would always be like honey, but as an Alter he’d be low-key trying to seduce or manipulate his master into giving him his way. As Alter he has wishes and things he hopes to gain. 

Goddamn this all became an accidental essay, I’m sorry.

Anyway here are a couple potential Diarmuid Alters. Tell me which is your favorite!

Alter as the Diarmuid that never forgives Fionn for letting him die. 

Diarmuid becomes bitter and seeks revenge, battling not for the thrill or for goodness, but to cause others to experience the same pain he did. He expresses his lack of interest in his master, claiming that they can’t be trusted. Not willing to trust them or show loyalty. Fights because it is his obligation, but thrills in causing others pain.

Turning point in this timeline is the moment of his death, where he decides to hate Fionn for eternity for choosing to believe that this was his fault, when he was doomed from the start.

Seeks the Grail in hopes of causing Fionn to suffer for eternity.

Alter as the Diarmuid that never comes to terms with his curse, and blames losing his lord/best friend on Grainne. 

Heartbroken because he never reconciles with Fionn, never makes amends for the stupid shit his curse caused in life. Can’t stand being around women because they’re all evil and want something from him. Rampant sexist inside, feels guilty because he knows it’s technically not Grainne’s fault but it still is. Inner turmoil at all times because of it. Distrustful toward master no matter gender, but is particularly cold toward women. Would secretly lose his shit having a female master. Might try to kill them? 

Turning point in this timeline is when he and Grainne flee together, when he realizes that it all could’ve been avoided if she’d never been in the picture.

Seeks the Grail in hopes of getting rid of his curse. 

Alter as the Diarmuid that embraces the power of his curse.

A manipulative player that uses everyone in his path to achieve his goals. Master of seduction on all fronts, toward all people that have the potential to be attracted to him.

Turning point in this timeline is Fionn developing a relationship with Grainne. Diarmuid sees woman, doesn’t want anyone closer to Fionn than he is. If he remains closest, he stays the #1 and that’s all he wants. Stealing Grainne is 100% intentional here. She could’ve been any woman. She wasn’t special, just a tool getting in the way of his opportunities. Most chaotic potential Alter.  

Wish is to punish Fionn for being dumbass bastard and shitty friend, and to have his way with all people.

Alter as the version of Diarmuid that loathes his curse, but utilizes it anyway. 

It feels foolish not to use it when so many men would thrill in a curse that buries them in potential partners. Everyone attracted to him has the potential to be his victim. It’s fucking great, and also awful. 

Self-loathing, hatred, bitterness. Believes nobody could ever really love him, and it leaves him feeling worthless, like all of his hard work throughout life was for nothing. Romance, love, and loyalty are jokes to him. Hates the thought of connecting with others.

Is cautiously loyal to his master, though he’d try to manipulate them. If it worked, he’d lose respect for them and take the Grail for himself. If it didn’t work, he’d be pissed off at them, but he’d be more likely to give that master his trust and respect, because he’d know they’re seeing him for his shitty self and not just his curse. 

Wish is to go back in time and not reject the witch that cursed him, or if he can’t go back that far, he’d like the chance to behave differently and not end up like this.

Chapter Text

The King’s quarters in Chaldea are nothing short of palatial.

The polished floors resemble the throne room of his ziggurat. The bed, raised on a stepped platform, is dressed in colorful fabrics from Uruk. A sheer canopy curtains all sides, creating the illusion of separation from the rest of the space. Walls feel impossibly tall, as though they reach for the heavens. A waterfall pours from the ceiling into a pool that narrows to a stream reminiscent of the Euphrates River. Bookshelves stacked with tomes and parchments and trinkets line the main wall, and the entry to the King’s bath stands between two towering shelves.

To say the King of Heroes has retained his love of the lavish across time is an understatement. That he would demand such an abode upon his summoning is no surprise. Expecting any less would be an offense to his tastes.

He imagines his other selves chose similar decor.

He responded to Andzelika’s summons during the 3rd Singularity, Septem, and to his great surprise his beloved was already there, with an enigmatic Master of their own.

From the moment his eyes settled upon Enkidu, he was certain he’d been summoned to the right time. As long as the world turned, he and Enkidu would be together. That was what the gods had dictated before separating them.

Enkidu’s Master infuriated him. Her filthy hands, stained by blood and tainted by impurity, held Enkidu in the ways only he was permitted. She would share intimacy with Enkidu the way he had so many times. That Enkidu would be enamored with such a grotesque child, enough so to pretend he wasn’t there, horrified him.

Watching them made him sick to his stomach. Out of respect for Enkidu’s apparent decision, he said nothing. They would be together in infinite other times. Perhaps, he thought, this was but a worse time than he had expected.

In his personal quarters, which reminded him so much of Uruk, he would stare into the sky that replaced his ceiling and watch the shapes of his home in the clouds. But the shapes were always of the one piece of home that had yet to return to him. What future could humanity have if it did not keep its two true, fated heroes together? What a mess Chaldea was in. What a nuisance that he would have to clean it up alone.

He would close his eyes, twirling the Chains of Heaven between his fingers, imagining what it might be like to invite Enkidu here. How many stories had they yet to read together, and how many more had they yet to write themselves?

To him, humanity’s story was an extended version of his Epic. The King’s story was entwined with Enkidu’s in such a way that their destinies were but one and the same. Human history began with them, he reasoned. It could only end the same way.


Chapter Text

He drummed his spindly fingers on his chin and closed his eyes. "Few things in this world are all good or all evil. Even the sickest of men have something they hold dear. God loves all in spite of their sins. His love and the light of the Holy Maiden are why I remain here. Even in this form I cherish both above all else. Yes. He will forgive even me someday! Hehehe."

"Something they hold dear...?'" Ofelia echoed. Her mind wandered as she mulled over what Gilles had said. Everyone have something they care about...even the Demon Pillars, though she didn't have an inkling of what it could be. A terrifying question entered her mind: what kind of horrible things was she willing to do if it meant protecting someone she cared about? Saving thousands of innocent people she didn't know or saving a single–

No, she didn't want to think about that. At least not right now. A gentle smile crossed her features as she listened to Gilles, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll happen no matter what!" she agreed.

"Something they love, that makes existence worth pursuing." Gilles de Rais brushed his wrinkled fingers over the dog-eared pages of The Lesser Key of Solomon. "But the love of beasts is nothing like humans. It's incompatible with our love. Their love shows in a way that kills humans. And they love each of us so much they'd kill us to protect us. It'll happen! We will all be forgiven by God! We're all his children. I'm glad you feel the same way, my shining Master... Demons likely won't be forgiven. That's why they're separated from heaven now. Even if they do love us. We cannot trust them despite what they feel. Though they are capable of feeling, they can only use it to destroy as demon pillars."

"That's...sad," Ofelia admitted in a weak voice, feeling a twinge of pity for the Demon Pillars. No, she needed to quash any sympathy she had for them. They were humanity's enemies, and even if they loved humans, their kind of love was twisted.

"I understand," she murmured, steeling herself, "but what are they trying to protect us from?"

"Humanity, and all of its sins." The cavern of his chest sank.

He felt remorse for himself and all men at this thought. As a twisted version of a terrible man, he still did love humanity. He loved screams of terror and how they fed Prelati's Spellbook. He loved the shrieks of a woman in agony. Crying children brought him joy.

It brought him indescribable pain. He hated this form with a passion. This is not the man he was before delving into the occult. All he stood for contradicted his work as a comrade of Jeanne D'Arc. Oh, how it burned his insides. How shame devoured him every waking moment. He thought he might be like those demons with their twisted love.

But... his peculiar little Master believed he could be saved, chose to take a risk on him knowing what he'd done. She thought he could do right once more. Was it true? Could he really use this all-consuming evil to do good? He wanted to think... That this little light could touch all men, just as it touched him.

Perhaps not the Holy Maiden, but a shining woman. Yes. His odd little Master, who fought for ideals far beyond his current self's comprehension. He swore that he'd come to understand. He would protect her no matter what. For little lights like this needed to shine and burn away the layers of muck tainting the world.

Gilles de Rais hummed and elaborated on his thoughts. "Their mission to eliminate all humans to prevent us from hurting ourselves. So much pity and hatred and love, the only thing they can do is drown us in it." 

Grimacing, Ofelia grew silent as she watched the change in the Caster's expression. Did she upset him with her question? She opened her mouth to apologize, but hesitated.

"They're like the Lion King from the Camelot Singularity, trying to protect humanity by destroying us," She mumbled, "even if they have have good intentions in their own strange way, we can't let that happen." Her hands became clammy (was she nervous? Actually, she wasn't entirely sure), and  were now placed on her lap.

"Even if there is a lot of horrible things in the world, there's a lot of good too." A bittersweet smile formed on her lips. Right, she had a conversation like this with Elia before in the training room. How much time has passed since then? "They might love humans, but I guess they don't really understand us and the fact we want to live on despite the awfulness that might come with it."

Gilles reached out cautiously and placed his sickly gray hand atop hers. He had the shakes, like an elderly man or an alcoholic in withdrawals. "Don't be afraid. Humanity is destined to overcome all obstacles. Men of made are demons, and demons of men. Without evil to balance out goodness, the righteous would become a curse… Close your eyes, please, Master."



"A curse? How–huh? Oh, okay!" Though somewhat puzzled by Gilles's request, Ofelia instantly closed her eyes and waited. Was he going to show her some kind of neat trick?

"Please don't look away, Master." With his eyes closed as well, Gilles de Rais spoke quiet words in Latin (which did sound SUPER COOL). And in his visualization came an image of his younger self, which he transplanted to her mind through a repeated incantation.

He showed her his idolization of Jeanne D'Arc in a room of stained glass windows in all colors. He showed her the Holy Maiden's guidance, watching over him, even in this form where he knows he doesn't deserve it. He showed her himself and the Saint on the battlefield together, sharing in pride for their cause. And lastly, he showed her an image of a broken man, offered kindness in his time of need by a woman with the world on her shoulders. One that never asked for anything, but had the impossible asked of her. Yet still she watched over him, and still she held his hand. His friend. His idol. That even in this form he cherished so dearly, though he loathed the obsession it'd become.

A nobleman conspired against into isolation. A soldier driven to madness in loss. Transformed into a horror himself with the possession of Prelati's Spellbook. A book he damned himself with in life when studying the occult.

His crimes were countless. His sins were plentiful. But this was his love, and the warmth he hoped to someday extend to others the way the Holy Maiden extended it to him.

In a way, the man he was alongside Jeanne was a standard he could never reach. He'd never accomplish the goals they held together in life. Their ideals were impossible. Perhaps naive. But somewhere, on the Throne of Heroes, his true self waited. And he, too, would be saved, he thought.

But this Gilles de Rais... This Caster... He would pay penance for his crimes for eternity, locked inside his own mind, trapped by a cursed craft he never should have dabbled in.

"In this, my time of need, I beg thee to come to my aid.
I humbly ask thee to help me bear my trials with honor,
As I remember you in your earthly agonies.
You who left family and friends to enter into God’s service,
Devout and valiant to uphold righteousness to the end,
While being insulted and harmed by your enemies.
Help me to prevail in life and death over evil,
While bearing my injuries with the dignity you showed
When wounded in the breast, head, thigh, and heel.
Abandoned by the king you yourself had crowned,
Captured and sold to the highest bidder,
You put your trust in the King of Heaven to deliver you.
Beaten, bruised, questioned and accused,
You were denied that which you loved most:
Communion, confession, mass and public prayer.
Imprisoned, neglected, threatened and condemned,
Sentenced to die as a heretic the most cruelest death,
To die by the fire and be raised up in heaven!
Hear this petition and my heartfelt plea.
Pray for me in this, my time of need,
For I believe God will deny you nothing. Amen."

Gilles de Rais opened his eyes, but kept his hand atop Ofelia's, allowing her to continue seeing those memories through his eyes a bit longer.

Soundless, Ofelia observed the various memories that flashed in her mind, of a righteous man devoted to a Saint, even after his fall. It was difficult to believe that this was the same man that committed so many sins.

Black and white. Good and evil. Everything seemed so simple back then when she arranged people into those two boxes. Now, everything seemed to blur and melt into shades of gray. Gilles may have been a cruel murderer, but his love for Jeanne and God was genuine. The Demon Pillars loved humanity and wanted to protect them, albeit by destroying them. She wasn't sure whether or not to accept this idea, but–

The memories faded away, yet she basked in them for a while longer.

"You really love Jeanne, don't you?" She hummed, "thank you for showing me your memories, Gilles. They're beautiful."

Chapter Text

Mordred looked up to his father, standing upon the mountain of corpses at Camlann. Each loss pierced his heart, ached in his bones. Camelot’s beloved knights and soldiers lied dead on the ground below King Arthur.

The King did this to them.

For all the faith they gave, King Arthur betrayed them in the end, sacrificed them as mere bodies for his ‘holy’ cause. This was the result of his ideal. The King still wouldn’t regard the one who worshipped him. The rightful heir to his love and the throne had proven himself worthy, had he not? There was nothing more Mordred could do. There was nothing left for him to take.

King Arthur couldn’t see him. But then, King Arthur couldn’t see anyone.

“Father…” Mordred’s eyes glistened, and his cheeks burned red. “I have taken those that would keep you from me. I’ve eliminated all obstacles the heavens put in my way!” He wept, but a gentle smile settled on his face. “A-as I promised, I have come to you, so that you may see me, and only me! Nothing will distract us now!” As he spoke, Clarent sparked in his hands, thirsting for blood. He kept the sword’s hunger at bay by feeding it more of his own being. But if it demanded, there was sustenance right in front of them. 

The people demanded a leader that would acknowledge them and know their pain. No man knew this better than the King of Knights’ bastard son. Mordred’s suffering was the heartbeat of all Camelot’s neglected men and women. 

“C-can you see me, Father? I am the strongest in all of Camelot, the greatest alive, ready to inherit your legacy. I’ve heard the word of the people and brought their dreams to life. H-have I made you proud?”

King Arthur said nothing. There was no malice, no disgust, no sadness to be found in his expression. Mordred tried to catch something, anything in the king’s face. But there was nothing. A hollow shell stared back at him, and the tears dribbled down his face. Even now, he was invisible. Had King Arthur even once looked at him, saw him as the man he was, as the man he was growing to be.

A life under the thumb of Morgan Le Fay, who made Mordred into the perfect knight, and drove him to this. His mother made him no less of the heir. He was the only man worthy of the king. King Arthur’s vision was clouded by the people around him, feeding him lies and deceit. No one loved King Arthur like Mordred did. Nobody possibly could. 

The bastard son, it seemed, existed to remind the king of his own mistakes. This was the way of the ideal–ideals and nothing more. No accountability was taken for his actions. Yet Mordred served him without question, in pride, desperate to turn King Arthur’s heads. Why couldn’t the king face him, just once? Just once just once just once just–look at him, King Arthur. Look at the truth. Look at the future.

“Father… You still refuse me after all…” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “I wanted your love, just once. I wanted you to cry for me, for us, for Camelot. But you… I will take your love, as I have taken all that you replaced and refused me with. Prepare yourself, King Arthur Pendragon. Do not turn away.”

Chapter Text

"You sure?"

His beloved nods in response. Robin's apprehensions must be many, but her confidence and that lustful look on her face seem to convince him to go for it. She clasps her fingers behind her back and rocks back and forth on her heels. Her lower lip tastes like honey when she licks it before giving it a bite.

Robin pushes her hair out of her face, and his cheeks heat up. She's already blushing countless shades of pink and red. The taste of honey sticks to their lips during kisses. Each time they pull apart, a thin string of saliva bridges the narrow gap between them.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, and an arrow materializes in the free hand at his side. He twirls the arrow in his fingers thoughtfully and without warning pierces the wall next to her ear with a thud , tearing a split end from her hair. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears.

Another arrow forms in his grasp and he drags its head along her cheek and jawline, leaving raised, angry trails wherever it touches her. The scent of poison dripping from the arrowhead wafts into the air. She briefly wonders what the poison tastes like.

She finds that Robin is excellent at this for someone that complains about not being the real Robin Hood.

He'll spin an arrow between his fingers before slamming it into the shiv beneath her, coming within breaths of catching her instead. A damp stain on her panties and a muffled whine into his hand covering her mouth signify her enjoyment.

Sap oozes from the fresh bark below. He rips the arrow out with ease, uses its head to draw along her quivering thighs up to her vulva, sticking to the lazy, tantalizing pace she enjoys. She could handle far more dangerous projectiles, but these have the feathers. She likes when he follows the trail of raised skin with a feather-light touch. He traces his work along her body, and pauses when he gets to her panty-line. Her hips buck and lips quiver without her permission.

Each time her back arches, she molds to the arrowhead, and it sinks into the dips in her body. As punishment she gets two arrows on either side of her head. She grips one in each hand to the point of white anticipatory knuckles.

So many sensations--pleasure and pain of being marked, of watching those marks form and fade. The flat face of the arrowhead pressing against her swollen hood. The gentle caress causing her to shiver.

Two fingers inside her, and his thumb rubbing her clitoris over its protective cover. His other hand preoccupied with dragging an arrowhead dripping with sap down her chest, her stomach. Messy, but he'll lick it off himself once she's climaxed.



Robin has long vowed to never scar her, but her desire to be hurt makes that difficult. He'll be forced to pin her to a wall by bolts that barely miss her limbs. She'll  plead  for him to have his way with her while he's got a glare on his face and a smoke in his mouth. He'll refuse still, and another bolt will whistle as it passes her face.

Her eyes will water. Her knees will buckle. The proximity to danger, the momentary fear, will cause her to go weak. She'll beg for him to touch her, but he'll fire another. Her chest will throb. She’ll reach to clutch her shirt, but two more bolts will pin her down by her sleeve. This woman is trouble in the bedroom, and trouble that only he gets to deal with. He knows this game by now. Her desire for danger and romance doesn't line up well, but he makes it work. Somehow.

On days she won't listen in bed he'll shove the shaft of an arrow between her teeth and make her gnaw on it until her jaw hurts.

She'll whine until he buries his head between her thighs, sucking on her clit while waving the arrow in her face as if to discourage her from reciprocating. She hates it. But loves it. It's him, so of course she loves it. He's all she wants--his danger and adventure and marks and love covering her entirely.

Sweat will coat every inch of her skin. The dark spot on her panties will leave nothing to the imagination. Another arrow will be stabbed into her headboard, though this time it's used for him to pull himself up over her, stare into her foggy eyes.

The fight or flight response in her head orders her to run, but when she looks at him, she knows she never could.

Chapter Text


Dialogue 4
(Gilgamesh (Caster))

“Fuahaha! The Herb of Immortality turned me into a cowardly know-it-all! Losing it was to my benefit!”

Dialogue 5
(Child Gil)

“The younger ‘me’ is not your king, Mongrel. Do not serve him as you serve me.”

Dialogue 6
(Gilgamesh (Prototype))

“Whatever ‘phase’ that mockery of me is going through should come to an end.”

Dialogue 7

“How many times must I meet that damned faker… Do not ask me to stand beside him, Mongrel.”

Dialogue 8
(Cu Chulainn (Lancer))

“The Hound of Chulainn remains a well-trained pet. Perhaps you should throw him a bone.”

Dialogue 9
(Lancelot (Berserker) or Heracles)

“Let mad dogs lie. Filthy mongrels.”

Dialogue 10
(Artoria Pendragon or Artoria Pendragon (Archer))

“The King of Knights carries a foolish dream so bright that it must be snuffed out, fufufu… I am the only one worthy of possessing her.”

Dialogue 11
(Mordred or Mordred (Rider))

“The bastard child, too, will be crushed by the weight of the king’s naivete.”

Dialogue 12
(Arthur Pendragon)

“The other King of Knights shows his face at last. How amusing.”

Dialogue 13

“I hold no interest in cheap imitations.”

Dialogue 14

“Who was created to complete me, whose life is valuable as my own… That position belongs only to the Chains of Heaven.”

Dialogue 15
(Ishtar or Ishtar (Rider))

“Though she inhabits a new body, Ishtar is still a poor, insufferable excuse for a goddess.”

Dialogue 16

“Two halves of one useless goddess, taking hold on the same girl. How very like them.”

Dialogue 17
(EMIYA (Assassin))

“To think a killer like Kiritsugu Emiya had enough spirit left to become a Counter Guardian.”

Dialogue 18
(Zhuge Liang)

“Aging never took the fire from his eyes, I see. As expected, I was correct about him.”

Dialogue 19

“The King of Conquerors has better sense for recklessness than for alcohol. He’s fortunate that I’m a generous host.”

Dialogue 20

“You’ve at last brought me worthy company! Lead him here, Mongrel. You may revel in our glory.”

Dialogue 20b
(Ozymandias) (Bond 5)

“It has been too long since I enjoyed the presence of a king nearly as immaculate as I, fufufu. … Do not look at him like that! Never forget who you serve.”

Dialogue 21
(Angra Mainyu)

“Fufu… FUAHAHAHAHA! The Holy Grail’s tainted form has shown its hideous face! What a joke!”

Dialogue 22
(BB or Sakura Five)

“This nuisance again… Mongrel, stand behind me. The AI cannot be trusted.”

Dialogue 23
(Nero Claudius, Nero Claudius (Bride), or Nero Claudius (Caster))

“Some would say it’s smarter to be lucky than it’s lucky to be smart. Such a pity it is to be neither with a fate like hers. Fuahaha.”

Dialogue 24

“Self-respect would serve him well. Revitalized dignity, perhaps. I see no other fault in the Son of the Sun God. That armor is truly magnificent.”

Dialogue 25
(Robin Hood)

“Should I offer a cloth for that faker to wipe his self-pity away? A thief knows better than to let others steal his will.”

Dialogue 26
(Ryogi Shiki (Saber))

“I see Nothingness in that woman… That doesn’t mean she’s empty herself, but that the abstract concept of nothingness is--Mongrel, are you paying attention?!”

Dialogue 27
(Sesshōin Kiara)

“Get that vile thing out of my sight.”

Dialogue 28

“You attract the most despicable company, Mongrel.”

Dialogue 28b
(Kama) (Bond 5)

“Would you seek the affections of some pathetic woman when I am here? Fufu. I will never permit it.”

Dialogue 29
(Hans Christian Andersen)

“FUAHAHA. That writer’s words still entertain me! His words were rich. You’d appreciate them.”

Dialogue 30

“The Magus of Flowers smiles like he has something to hide. Bastard. He plays his games from a position you will never see. But he can be trusted. For now.”

Chapter Text

Bond 1. “Does my appearance startle you? Do not waste your time looking for the Holy King of Knights. You will not find her here.”

Bond 2. “If you are trying to prevent a dragon from devouring you whole, it is in your best interests to appease it.”

Bond 3. “The other versions of ‘me’ are too many. When did I become Santa Claus? She might stand for something if her legs froze off.”

Bond 4. “To earn the title of Master, you may start by feeding me. Two double-stacked bacon cheeseburgers with a large side of fries and a milkshake... Make sure that shake is shaken, not stirred.”

Bond 5. “So long as you don’t ask me to share, I have no trouble with--hey! What do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off of my pancakes! That stack is the perfect fluffiness, you’re going to ruin the flow of syrup and--omp. Whaff? You’we fweeding me? Stoph it! Curse you! Munch munch munch.

Bond 6. “Have you finally accepted that I am not your ideal king? ... You would call me your ‘ideal woman,’ huh? Are you interested in having the dragon bite your head off?”

Bond 7. “In life, I inherited Excalibur as the Holy Sword of the World, while Morgan LeFay honed the darkness that cursed Great Britain. I gave the blackened sword her name with the intent to cut her down. Poetic justice, don’t you think?”

Bond 8. “To restore peace and prosperity in my homeland is my wish for the Holy Grail. This dream is shared with all of Great Britain. There is nothing I will not do to achieve this. I expect you to fight for that dream at any cost.”

Bond 9. “You’ve kept to your word all this time. Maybe that’s why your journey is one I’ve come to enjoy. When the time comes, will you be prepared to part?”

Bond 10. “You have given yourself to me without hesitation. I now offer you the same. Until our flesh burns and our eyes shut, I will remain by your side. As your Servant, yes. But I’d prefer you see as I see you. Treat me as a woman.”

Chapter Text


  • Tiamat is not a sentient being. She’s more like a force of nature made to perform a very specific role. 
  • Because she’s not a sentient being, she cannot be rationalized or communicated with. All she responds with is LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA which does not make her “children” very happy. 
  • It’s mentioned during Babylonia that she can only do one thing, which is “mother.” Her form of mothering involves razing the constructs humanity builds and bringing them back to their roots, with her, which is why her sin as a Beast is Regression.
  • Gilgamesh’s little speech to her about how she is unnecessary in a world where humans create their own destiny appears to be the general consensus between not only those in the Singularity, but Servants overall seem to agree with his analysis of the situation.
  • Not all Beasts are L/R, and this one in particular is one that wouldn’t make sense, because as a force of nature in a world that humans try to command, the blind overrun of the World is an evil that needs to be prevented. 
  • Any Babylonia Singularity Servants would be unhappy to deal with her. Gilgamesh out here willing to Enuma Elish everybody to make humanity’s downfall quicker since y’all too dumb not to try to bring an irreverent force of the World into Chaldea.
  • Ritsuka couldn’t control her, as nothing can, because she can only do said (1) thing.


  • There’s a hint at the end of Lostbelt 4 that a certain individual that pities humans a substantial amount might still be around. If that individual is still around, it’s likely that he is around as the King of Men, since he shed his Demon God form in Salomon. 
  • If the King of Men is around, he’s around in the form that allows him to feel some things as humans do, which means he will now have the capacity to experience humanity.
  • The Servants that dealt with him in the Grand Order and later in Epic of Remnant are not going to be happy to see him. Consider any Servants that appeared during the final fight against Goetia and the Demon God Pillars unamused.
  • Mash and DaVinci in particular are going to be upset. We got the most devastating loss in Grand Order because of Goetia’s bullshit. I can’t imagine Mash taking kindly to him, especially given her state in Cosmos in the Lostbelt. DaVinci didn’t want to take Goetia’s shit ever, so we have that going on.
  • Unlike Tiamat, Goetia can at least communicate with people and interact with them. And can be rationalized with, which is the only real way to operate with him. But if Ritsuka could rationalize with Goetia as King of Men and get him to better understand humans now that he is one (sorta), he might be beneficial to the cause.

Chapter Text

  • This could go either really well or really poorly for the Master. AUO is not exactly the easiest man to impress. He’s good at everything. His best friend is also good at everything. Master is screwed.
  • Better challenge him to things in the modern era that he shouldn’t know anything about. At least Master will have better odds that way.
  • Smash Ultimate. 
  • 1v1, Final Destination, No Items, 3 Stock. Tournament rules.  Too bad when they say “Fox Only” as a joke, Master is screwing themselves. They lose. Hard.
  • In a free-for-all, Gilgamesh knocks Master out while he and Enkidu still each have a stock left. Enkidu murder-suicides off the edge of Jungle Japes to take Gil’s last stock.
  • Racing. 
  • Seemed like a good idea for half a second. As it turns out Gilgamesh has that gaudy-ass fighter jet and Enkidu has incredible ground speed on foot that might surpass a vehicle? Yeah, Master wasn’t going to test that.
  • Badminton.
  • Gilgamesh can just pull racquets out of the Gate of Babylon without having to go anywhere himself. 
  • Enkidu will play the right way. At least someone cares about the integrity of condo association sports.
  • Shitposting. 
  • Given the power of the internet, Gilgamesh will go where no king has gone before, and reach the 5th Dimension through his unmatched shitposting abilities.
  • Enkidu is concerned. They don’t understand have to ask /r/NoStupidQuestions what it is and how to do it. They end up being good at it, but don’t transcend time/space.
  • More ridiculous challenges. More things that are so stupid that no score can be kept. (Who can floss their teeth better? Who can make the sound of one hand clapping? Who can flip their hair like those K-Pop boys?)
  • Consensus is, Master can’t seem to beat Gilgamesh at anything. Enkidu either bests or equals him in each challenge, which is… comforting? (It’s not comforting. It’s intimidating.) 
  • As futile as the endeavor is, Gilgamesh appreciates it. He might even put in a modicum of effort next time the mongrel challenges him in Smash.

Chapter Text

An engine roared to life behind the Holy King of Knights. Dust kicked into the air, clouding the vehicle’s windshield. Its body burned red as the sun’s surface. Its eyes, peering out from its bumper, glistened with washer fluid tears.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” The voice of a man came from between the racer’s grating.

Arthur refused to turn around. He squinted his eyes shut. “It isn’t going to be any way, Rider.”

A few nights prior, the sentient hunk of steel approached Arthur claiming to be the Grand Rider-Class Servant. It called itself Lightning and professed love for the would-be Grand Saber. Arthur had frozen up for a moment before nearly rupturing his lungs with laughter. 

Surely the real Grand Rider would know that Arthur isn’t Grand; he barely qualifies as a Servant. No, Arthur Pendragon is no insurmountable hero–just a knight attempting to do right by The World. Just a knight.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. You know, that’s so like you to deny the feelings of others. You can’t understand them. You can’t understand anything, can you?” the car cried. It bounced on its tires in distress. 

This Fake Rider showed similar traits to someone Arthur knew once. Perhaps the car had a point. 

Arthur rested his fingertips on the hilt of Excalibur. “I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. “I know nothing of the feelings of automobiles.”

Lightning cracked through the darkening sky while Lightning revved its engine like thunder. “I’m not just some race car you can take for a ride anytime you want!” it shouted to the heavens. “Is this how you let your kingdom fall, Saber?”

Flashbacks to the battle on the hill, to deaths of his friends, to the deaths of his brothers. Arthur’s chest ached, but he did not falter. He shook his head, rejecting the memories. Whether or not a lack of compassion once caused great loss, this time would be different. Right? 

Excalibur gleamed, piercing the sandy skies. The seals for each of his brothers released–all except one, though Arthur barely noticed as he prepared to send Lightning back to the garage in the sky where it belonged.

This time could be different.

A battle against evil, for the fate of The World.

…Or was it?

Chapter Text

I needed Arthur to hate me...

'Look at me, Arthur,' I thought then. 'Look at me and despise me. Tear me limb from limb. Bury the blade of the Holy Sword into my chest.'

Anything would've been better than the indifference with which he regarded me. If that meant deconstructing every facet of his kingship, so it would be.

I could do better, if only he...


'Look at me, Arthur! Look at Camelot! Look at what you've done!'

And the ideal king said nothing still.

As ashes clouded the air, I bursted forth into his range, attacking him with Clarent. He would defend, but nothing would stop me from taking what he seemed to value above all else: his own miserable, perfect life.

That should've been mine.

All that crumbled beneath my heel should've been mine.


The only place that the Camelot I dreamed of could ever exist was in my imagination. The Camelot I grew up believing was mine to inherit, to improve in honor of my father's legacy, wasn't real.

Dreams of all Camelot's people cracked as the foundation of his castle.

Did he not see what he caused?

Did he not see the dreams of others?

Truly, King Arthur would never know the hearts of men...


No matter how far I looked up at King Arthur from down below, I wanted to believe I could stand as his equal. That was the destiny of the hero's son in fairytales--to achieve greatness in his father's image.

Here I was raised imagining all of these miracles would come to me. Maybe I would be acknowledged by my father and take up arms with him. We could fight side-by-side, or with me at his feet. In a way, that is what I got.

And yet... I had nothing. No mother whose shoulder I could cry on. No father whose legacy I could carry. No identity worth developing further. I was not a person. I was a collection of instructions and ideals indoctrinated into me from birth, burying me under the weight of a personal war I should not have been a pawn in.

Why were they surprised when I took up arms against a sea of troubles, and thus, by opposing, ended them? How could anyone be shocked, when all the signs were there?

If I would not stand with Arthur in righteousness, I would stand against his crimes. His lack of understanding of others would be his downfall, but I would not let it be mine. I would rise up against his inhuman behavior and act on the wishes of the people he neglected, that he supposedly served.

I'd say I sacrificed everything to take him on, but... did I have anything to sacrifice? At least if he hated me at the end, I could've passed in peace. But still he said nothing.

King Arthur killed me before his sword pierced my stomach.

Chapter Text

Britannia: The Day The Sun Set
& Roma: The End Of Armageddon

“I will not assist you in your foolish side-quest, Master of Chaldea–the Whore of Babylon will destroy her own empire soon enough. Her fits of adultery and rage are of no interest to me and do little to benefit my end goal…

But, should you manage to quell her yourself before my plans come to fruition, I will permit you to face me as an opponent in my own Holy City. This is the graciousness I will give you as queen. Accept this gift, Ritsuka Fujimaru. It is the only kindness you will receive from the City At The End Of The World.”

- Morgan Le Fay


In a way, it was destined to end up like this, wasn’t it? The two greatest empires the western world has known, facing each other in their prime, at last. A pity that these circumstances are what have brought it about.

Under the rule of Queen Morgan Le Fay, Britan has only spread beyond the horizon. Her plans for complete domination of this era will not be interrupted by any silly young magus. They will be interrupted by a growing unrest on the boundaries between the two great Empires. Any further conflicts would lead to an outright war and potentially cause the Singularity to collapse before Morgan can achieve her goal: control of Camelot, control of the throne, and control of all those who stood in her way. Payback is a bitch, and that bitch’s name is Morgan Le Fay.

In spite of the growing threat of British takeover, Roma persists, spreading to a point where it could no longer be sustained. Dissention between cities and the nation, between the Pagans and the Christians–all of it comes to a head when Nero Claudius fails to suppress her agony. As Roma suffers, so does she, and at last she falls at the hands of her own people and those that came before her. The Whore of Babylon rises from the ashes of the fallen emperor and her former comrades. With the Rider comes her mount: the Beast of Revelation. 

After unmeasured time searching, wandering, waiting to see what happened to the Beast of Revelation, Arthur Pendragon finds what he was looking for. His quest for peace can finally end on the battlefields of Armageddon. But the real battle will be with himself, as he comes to terms with the truths of his own rule and the rule of Morgan Le Fay over the new Britannia. 

For no matter how many battles can be won with a sword, the hardest are those in which your hands are tied.


  • Anti-Hero, Enemy: Morgan Le Fay, Queen of Camelot
  • Antagonist, Enemy: Mother Harlot, Beast of Humanity
  • Antagonist, Enemy: 666 - Beast of Revelation, Beast of Humanity
  • Main Characters (Britannia):
    • Arthur Pendragon (Prototype)
    • Galahad
    • Merlin 
  • Supporting Cast (Britannia): 
    • Guenivere
    • Lancelot
    • Mordred (Prototype)
    • Nimue, Lady of the Lake 
    • Percival 
    • Sir Kay
  • Main Characters (Roma): 
    • Gaius Julius Caesar
    • Marcus Antonius 
    • Romulus
  • Supporting Cast (Roma):
    • Astrea
    • Caligula 
    • Cleopatra
    • Scipio Africanus
    • Spartacus

Random Details

  • What percentage of story is what TLDR:
    • 3/12 story is fighting your way into Britannia and doing things
    • 1/12 Nero Claidus goes apeshit,big scary beast
    • 1/12 story is on Britannia’s side, doing things and stuff
    • 5/12 story is going from Britannia to Roma to help with the whole Apeshit Beast x 2 Thing, lots of playing messenger and story stuff on both sides, major meaty things happen here like fighting off Apeshit Beast x 2
    • 1/12 is lead up and battle with Morgan Le Fay
    • 1/12 is enjoying the fruits of your labor with Britannia before Morgan Le Fay closes the Singularity as she agrees to early on (given Ritsuka meets certain conditions which obviously they do)
  • Ritsuka defaults to siding with Britannia upon arriving in the Singularity due to meeting Arthur first and having Merlin along.
  • Morgan Le Fay is the Singularity’s creator and its “final boss.” She intended to keep this pocket of time and space to herself, and isolated it from others, but upon Chaldea showing up it was bridged with a larger timeline, causing the actions within this Singularity to be far more consequential than Morgan intended.
  • Mother Harlot and the Beast of Revelation appear together–when Nero Claudius dies, she is reborn as her “true self” and summons her Beast from the pits of hell to collapse the entire Singularity. Even when Mother Harlot is sequestered by the end of the Singularity, she is not truly “defeated.” She is instead disappeared, escaping beyond the Singularity. 
  • Arthur finally gets to kill the Beast of Revelation but gets hella Tokyo Grail War flashbacks. Oh, and because he’s fighting for Camelot he’s getting those flashbacks. Oh, AND because he’s now under Morgan and Lancelot and Guenivere have their own thing going on, he has to deal with that. Also his extremely angry son is here and out to get him. Whoops. Arthur is presumably the same Arthur from the Trial Quest wandering around on his search.
  • Merlin is Chaldea Merlin, and is not excited to get his ass kicked by Nimue or Morgan La Fey. He takes on a more serious role in this Singularity, but has hella banter with Sir Kay.
  • Galahad and Lancelot relationship development. Mash forced to interact with Galahad via comms.
  • Nero is Nero for about 1/3 of the Story but loses a major battle due to her own arrogance, which leads to her supporting cast and main characters on the Roma side distrusting her. She is poisoned by one of her own and resurrects as Mother Harlot. 
  • Mother Harlot rises to power and starts egregiously destroying Roma (which is what leads the Romans to turn on her altogether). Defeating the entire Roman Empire AND Mother Harlot AND Beast of Revelations at the same time is insurmountable, but you don’t have to, because the Roman Empire is also terrified of Mother Harlot. Morgan Le Fay agrees to a temporary cease fire with Roma, allowing them to handle their Beast problem. 
  • Tons of Roman character development, learning from how each of the leaders fights, following their trials and tribulations, really learning to respect their strengths. Because you brought Arthur with you here, who’s an “enemy” to them, but this Singularity is partly about learning to see eye-to-eye and work out problems in ways that don’t involve creating Singularities or killing people. 
  • Gaius/Cleopatra/Antony love triangle drama????
  • Nimue/Merlin/Morgan/Arthur/Guen/Lancelot love HEXAGON drama?!?!?!
  • You defeat Mother Harlot and the Beast, and then you challenge Morgan Le Fay as she promised. As the Lawful woman she chooses to close the Singularity and allow it to disintegrate after her defeat. Before that, though, she allows a full day of celebration for all the people of Camelot, in which she and the rest of the Britannia cast are able to make amends and come to peace with all they’ve done one last time.

Chapter Text

  • Beni-enma will hold High Functioning Autism Master-chan accountable for their executive functioning. She will promote Master’s well-being while not allowing them to fall back on bad habits and excuses for actions. As a strict Innkeeper, she wants to see Master learn to treat guests well and treat themselves well, and achieving that requires discipline and motivation that can be hard to achieve without the extra push from someone watching out for you.
  • Frankenstein is a Servant that struggles to communicate the way we do in interpersonal relationships; she can’t verbalize everything she’s thinking efficiently and has to find other ways to get her point across. This can lead to mutual growth between Master and Servant, and two individuals finding new ways to communicate with each other and the world around them.
  • Charles-Henri Sanson is not only his Master’s caretaker where he can be, but their friend. Sanson is grounded and practical, solving problems that he can and seeking solutions to those he can’t. His Master will be given attention and effort, patience and kindness–things that not every individual with autism is given.
  • Hassan of Serenity will share an understanding with Master–both of them are misunderstood and isolated for it due to a condition that they can’t help having. Working together toward the same goal leads to developing the skills necessary to build a healthy lifestyle. She is doting, respectful, and kind, and will want nothing but the best for Master in their times of need.
  • Mata Hari’s fearlessness will drive her to stay by Master’s side no matter what. Any outbursts, fits, or dissociative states are things she can handle and will weather with grace. (She may, however, eventually get fed up if on the receiving end of negativity with no sign of an end, in which case it will be important to listen to her concerns and take them to heart–another skill she wants Master to learn.)
  • Arash is an unstoppable force of good nature. Nothing will prevent him from assisting Master. He will do whatever it takes to help them overcome the negativity that their condition brings, and will support their well-being as long as they are willing to pursue it. More than anything, Arash will want to see his Master want to make positive changes to their life if it can impact them for the better.
  • Charlemagne is, without a doubt, a Very Good Boy. A noble, upbeat, and positive leader that is already used to handling a wide variety of personalities thanks to his Paladins. Managing social situations and resolving conflicts with positivity are strong suits, and his knack for crisis management will come in handy.
  • Carmilla understands Master’s need for compassion, yet isn’t afraid to tell them where the bear shits if they head down a path of poor choices. She can play both sides of the coin to meet Master’s needs. Alternatively, she can keep to herself and play the long con to get them to open up to her.
  • Hozoin Inshun is a monk. Meditation and mindfulness strategies come with his packaging. His greatest strength will be perseverance, as the only thing that could get in the way of him dedicating himself to Master’s well-being is, well, Master

Chapter Text

  • Charles-Henri Sanson tentatively opens his arms with an embarrassed tint to his cheeks. He read that physical contact can be reassuring and promote physical wellness in times of distress. When his Master hugs him, he awkwardly reciprocates and rests his head against theirs. He isn’t great at this, but he tries.
  • Ashvatthaman is infuriated (something new). The audacity of the World to be a dick to his Master. He slings an arm around their shoulder and tugs them to his side. Keeps them close and rubs their arm or ruffles their hair. Bops his head against theirs and grumbles the whole time, but he’s not uncomfortable this way. 
  • Ishtar is hesitant at first, but when she sees Master sulking, hunched over, giving themselves scoliosis, she knows she has to act. She hovers behind them and speaks gently near their ear, offering words of comfort in exchange for their sorrows. She gently wraps her arms around their neck from behind and presses her cheek to the top of their head.
  • Mordred is like, “Shit I don’t know how to do this.” They freeze up and think on it. Anxiety racks their shoulders, shakes their hands. Weighing the pros and cons of reaching out for contact is tossed out the window when they see the tears. They wrap their arms around Master (Master’s arms included) and squeeze until Master’s back cracks.
  • Semiramis sits beside Master, allowing the skirt of her gown to flow outward. The fluff and feathers fan and float around her. She pats her lap and gestures toward it. This is her silent permission for Master to use her as the pillow they need. If they double-check if it’s okay, she’ll glare at them and repeat the patting motion. Plays with their hair.
  • EMIYA gives hugs that are far more protective than his Master expects, but maybe that’s because of how close they’ve gotten. He tucks them under his chin, wraps them up in his arms like a package that needs to be protected. He buries his face in their shoulder or hair and talks them through their distress, sharing in their every sob.
  • Astolfo throws their arms around Master’s neck without thinking twice as soon as he sees them in distress. He presses himself to them with no wiggle room. It’s a risky move he doesn’t feel bad about. He pats their back, grips their hair, touches their shoulders and neck and cheeks to check that they’re still with him. He won’t let anything happen to them.
  • Merlin offers dreamy hugs with his Master snuggled into his endless white robe. He uses the tiniest bit of his incubus charms to lower their defenses and keep them at ease while stroking their hair listlessly. He listens to their every word, nodding and humming in all the right places. Whatever Master lets him do to ease the hurt is the least he can do.

Chapter Text

The executioner weaves a rope between the wrists of his captive. He curls his calloused fingers into the bind and yanks her forward. 

She makes eye contact with the wooden floor. Sanson's clunky black boots are better suited for battle than a mirrored ballroom, she thinks; his hands are better suited for caressing than for combat. 

Her knees bounce, and her hips wiggle in frustration as she tries to balance. Bent at a stiff 90° angle, she struggles to lock herself in place. There is nothing to support her but the strength of her lover's fingers in the knot acting against gravity. 

Laid bare by rolled-up sleeves, the muscles in his forearms tense and relax, his veins standing out against his ivory skin. The tendons stretch as he tilts his wrist this way and that, testing her stability.

"Spread your legs," he orders.

She drops her head and curtains of hair fall past her face, dangling toward the floor. Her thighs protest as she shuffles her feet apart.


She obeys. The perfect V of her legs reaches its apex at her rear that stands out against her curving spine.

"I suppose you want to take advantage of you like this," he muses. He wraps his free hand in her hair.

Chapter Text

“How do you wish to proceed, Contractor?” the ancient assassin asked.

“Wait, hold on a sec! I have just the thing.” The young woman snuck behind a pile of skulls and performed what is often referred to as a holy miracle or a quick change. Upon revealing herself, she squealed. “Ta-daaaa!”

The King of Hassans’s mask didn’t allow for expression. If it did, it probably would’ve shown distinct lack of amusement at the development. “…Why have you dressed yourself in this manner?”

“Because, KH–can I call you KH?–if we’re going to fight as a team we have to look like a team. We have to be matchy. In my world, every day is messy-dressy-matchy-day, and I want us to be messy-dressy-matchy while we grind the bones of our enemies to dust!”

This greatly perplexed the Hassan. What, he wondered, is a messy-dressy-matchy day?

The young woman twirled her curls around her fingers. She balanced her elbows on her thighs as she leaned forward in the deepest of interest.

“Cursed?” she asked. “According to your stats thing that pops up when I look at you, you have kind of a curse in your skill set? It decreases this death resistance measure? Do we have like, a second immune system counting our death immunity points? OHMYGOD do I have nine lives like a cat?! Me-wow!”

King Hassan would have rubbed his forehead were it not covered by the mask. He stood silent, stalwart, and waited for his Master’s ramblings to finish.

For lack of a better way to manage this predicament, he gave a single curt nod.

“Yes,” he said.

“God,” the fashionista said, “is a woman. If she exists. Ariana had the right idea. I’m from Agnostica, so like, I don’t really BELIEVE in gods or anything. But I exist and you exist and something brought us together. That’s pretty miraculous don’t you think?”

King Hassan refused to move from his position pretending to be a statue.

The woman hopped up from the throne she constructed of cracked skulls and bound together with tails severed from animal carcasses. She tip-toed over to the Assassin, her boots crunching rocks and bone fragments with every step. Those heels could cause impotence in any fool that crossed her.

She got all-up-in-King Hassan’s proverbial fries, pushing her nose into his personal space, puffing little tufts of smoke into the night.

“Presence Concealment must not be that great, KH.” She jabbed a finger into where his ribs should be. “Pretty sure I can still see you and pretty sure you’re pretending to be dead. Not cool. Not nice.”

King Hassan had had it up to an arbitrary measure of “here” with the woman’s disrespect. He oozed a sickly blue glow from his mask, cape, and sword. The smoke pouring from his form filled the cave, suffocating the cowering before him. As she coughed into her fist, he wrapped his massive gauntlet around her free hand and lifted her effortlessly into the air. She screamed.

“Thy transgressions against the God of Death will not go unpunished,” he said. The booming voice shook the cave. Stones tumbled and formations split. “What have you to say for yourself, for your disrespect toward Death? Self-proclaimed ‘agnostic,’ what do you now believe?”

She tried and failed to wiggle her wrist free. She attempted kicking him, but that also failed as he caught her foot. The woman dangled at a contorted angle in the hands of death.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them. The reverberation of King Hassan’s words still bounced off the cave walls.

“I…” She whined and threw her head back in defeat. He sure taught her a lesson. “I can’t take this seriously, KH. TBH this as hot as it terrifying and I’m kinda turned on right now and it’s a little embarrassing but my panties are all in a twist and yeah whatever you’re doing it’s totally working.”

King Hassan unlocked his iron grip, dropping her multiple feet. Her ass hit the ground and she moaned at an extremely inappropriate volume. He turned his back and covered his already-covered face with his hands.

Truly, not even the dead know peace.

Chapter Text

Upon being summoned, Gilgamesh took immediate notice of his new Master’s living conditions. What they called “lower-middle class,” he called “serfdom” directly to their face. 

“I prefer the term ‘wagie,’” they say. They fold their arms across their chest and narrow their eyes at the King of Heroes. “It’s entirely different from serfdom, and I don’t think it’s appropriate to compare my current socioeconomic situation to those who were far less fortunate than I.” 

King Gilgamesh mimics his Master’s posture. He tilts his head, as if pretending to give one (1) singular shit about his phrasing. “Is being a ‘wagie’ as you put it not the equivalent? From what I’ve gathered, living paycheck-to-paycheck in this country at this time is quite similar. Assuming the ‘lord’ of the land is the governing class and those setting the rules are the oligarchs behind them,” he says.

The young Master nods and rubs their scarred cheek. “Well, my King, you should know better than anyone that we humans live in a society.”

He doesn’t respond.

During the Holy Grail War, the mongrel maintains a semblance of normality, as if nothing changed and they weren’t fighting for a life-changing wish on a magic cup. The idiot works, goes grocery shopping, and runs errands. All the while, Gilgamesh finds himself accompanying them, lest he die of boredom waiting around the house all day. 

“You could always hang out with my grandma,” they suggest. They tug on the leash and scold their big doofy dog for trying to eat garbage off the curb. “I’m sure she’d enjoy winning another round of Scrabble. Not many old ladies can say they bested you, I bet.”

Gilgamesh frowns in the direction of the dog as opposed to the person with the leash, directing his frustration away from them. He might also just be frowning at the dog sponge because he barks at everything and keeps stopping every twenty seconds to sniff.

“Fool,” he says, “I permitted her to win on my own accord.”

They side-eye him. “That’s not how it looked when you were cursing her out under your breath. Or when you ripped her book of crossword puzzles in half.” 

“She should thank me. I replaced the book with a bigger, better version.” He shoves one of his hands in his jacket pocket and turns up his nose. “Were I a crueler man, I would crush her in the frivolous games she challenges me to. I am far too generous.”

They stop under a tree to let the dog sponge sniff around. “Letting someone win doesn’t teach them anything. It’s kind of disingenuous. Like, what’s the point of winning if you didn’t earn it? What’s the point of having anything if you don’t deserve it?“

He goes quiet to give this thought pause. Something about it is nostalgic.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were having fun,” they admit. “I know I had fun, and I know grandma had fun. You did really well at Trivial Pursuit, which is a game I absolutely hate. I hated it a lot less with you there. I thought we made a pretty good team…” They trail off, rubbing at their arm, tugging at their sleeve, fidgeting with the leash’s grip while the dog continues to do what one might consider “puppy stuff.”

“Silence.” Gilgamesh flicks them on the forehead. They audibly oof. “My time is too valuable to waste on anything I don’t enjoy.”

It was ridiculous for them to put faith in an opponent that could very easily end their life. Every time Gilgamesh reminded them of how naive it was, they had the same response.

“If they kill me, they’ll be doing me a favor.” Then something about them disappointing their family and never fitting in and never being satisfied or successful because of their situation and mental health and ugh it was such a chore to hear the speech every time.

He briefly considered giving them up to the enemy to put them out of their misery. A person that doesn’t value their life might as well not be alive, especially if they have the potential to be of use to others. But they surprised him one more time before he could. 

In an act of empathy and idiocy, they challenged the other remaining Master to battle with wit instead of weapons. 

To the surprise of both Heroic Spirits, the Masters agree to peaceful terms. To the surprise of everyone involved, the Masters adhere to those terms and compete fairly without ever raising a hand to each other.

The enemy Master and Mongrel shake hands. Their grip on each other is firm. When both start crying and go so far as to hug, the King of Heroes cackles into his hand. He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. It’s absurd. It’s stupid. It’s…human.

They each put their hand on the Holy Grail 

“What will it be?” Gilgamesh asks. “You toyed with so many potential wishes I expected you to find a loophole to make multiple. What were those, again? Success? Notoriety? Wealth? Health? Experiences?”

Wiping their sniffles away, the Master shakes their head. "I want for nothing that a cup can give me.”

He smirks. “Nothing?”

They roll their eyes. ”I could wish that you would stay a little while longer…”

“Fool.” Gilgamesh snatches the Grail away from them and tucks it under his arm. Before the Master can reach for it, he tosses the Holy Grail into the Gate of Babylon. The Master stands dumbstruck. “Don’t waste the Holy Grail’s abilities on a wish I can grant myself.”


“Rejoice, mongrel. Now that you have won a Holy Grail War, there is no reason not to serve me to the fullest of your ability. I expect you to earn and appreciate your successes that will follow.” 

“Of course I still expect to be on your team for Trivial Pursuit. You are the perfect handicap to balance out my all-encompassing knowledge. It would be unfair for anyone else to have me.”

“…It was one time, I have no intention of ripping any more crossword puzzles. But if the puzzles are not intended to be torn up, they should not be printed on such flimsy paper.”

Chapter Text

  • Odysseus is a weeb. If he’s not a weeb, he’s an otaku. You see all this nanomachine Gundam-lookin’-ass shit in LB5? Yeah. Anime, manga, and video games remind him of home in the weirdest way. The hyper-futuristic technology is reminiscent of the ancient technology he was accustomed to. He’s here for it. Even the weird summoning system that brought him to Chaldea fascinates him, and he’s probably going to mess with it on his own in his free time and maybe accidentally assist in summoning another Servant because sometimes it really do be like that.
  • With Achilles: Achilles, according to Odysseus, is the most reliable ally possible. Pair them up for game nights, whether it’s a fighting game or straight-up fight. Odysseus respects this man and will have a blast kicking ass and taking names. When they learn that Monopoly isn’t supposed to be a competitive game, they become the ultimate in benevolent wealth and raise the other players up. 
  • With Hektor: When thinking about Hektor, Odysseus feels a sense of nostalgia. Sure they fought against each other and Hektor is arguably unhappy about their past, but in Chaldea they’re on the same side. At first they’ll settle their differences over a drink, which won’t go nearly as well as Odysseus would hope, but over time Hektor will relax and the two of them will make tentative acquaintances. They have plenty of similar interests, like drinking and traveling and “vibing” as the kids say.
  • With Penthesilea: If she’s not actively trying to rip his head off for complimenting her beauty, Penthesilea will have a great time reveling in memories with Odysseus. Odysseus is known to use the no-no words though, so the odds of him getting throttled frequently are non-zero. But that’s okay, because he’ll learn quickly and focus on complimenting the strength with which she chokes him out.
  • With Atalante: Much like his interactions with Penthesilea, Odysseus will have to taper his desire to be complimentary, lest the Huntress shove an arrow between the chinks in his armor and laugh when said armor cracks.
  • With Paris: Big Fat Concern Energy. Odysseus is going to have to take extra care looking out for Paris, especially with the new weird circumstances that they’ve both taken on in Chaldea.
  • With Jason: Odysseus is thrilled to be reunited with his dearest cousin. The two of them will drink, play games, and be merry together at all times. Because Odysseus is better than Jason at everything (because pretty much everybody is better than Jason at everything), any competition between them will result in Jason’s underdog skill triggering, leading to confusing outcomes. Watch out for the two of them conspiring together and giggling over their noble and upstanding schemes.
  • With Heracles: Heracles goes RAAAAAAAAH and for some reason Odysseus understands every grunt and roar as if they’re communicating in perfect Greek. They get along in passing and hang out in hot springs together. Odysseus likes that Heracles displaces the water enough to make it easier to soak.
  • With Asterios: Asterios speaks, sort-of, and it makes Odysseus’s interactions with him easier than those with Heracles. They are both known to wear masks, both literally and figuratively, and the two of them will share mutual respect. Quiet tea times with few words shared, afternoons reading or drawing quietly together, a silent partnership that, while distant, is meaningful for both.
  • With Iskandar: They haven’t had the opportunity to interact before, but when the two meet up, they find a ton of commonalities. The love of the sea, the love of voyage, the love of the people around them… These things make a leader strong, in their opinions. As soon as Iskandar sees Odysseus’s collection of machinery, the King of Conquerors will lose his mind. The two will be fast friends over their shared love of heavy machinery and war planes. They might consider bombing a future Lostbelt, but decide it’s too impersonal, and that both Iskandar and Bucephales should have their own Gundam suits. It’ll be great. Also, tons of historical documentaries and movies. Prepare to see a mismatched pair of grown adults party hard to weeb shit and war stories.
  • With Chiron: Haven’t previously had the chance to interact, but the two will find mutual respect quickly. There is much that they can learn from each other. 
  • With Orion: Bro? Bro. B R O . Ultra-Chad heroes that can hang out being Ultra-Chads together, until Artemis ruins the mood or Circe interrupts at an inopportune moment.

Chapter Text

  • Merlin keeps telling you it’s not his bathwater, but there are plenty of reasons to not believe him. While we’re at it, Merlin prefers to bathe in scalding hot water with flowers floating on the surface. He likes the way steam comes off in little puffs around the petals–he’ll use his abilities to let the petals dance in the air around him while he bathes. He often daydreams during his baths or dozes off entirely, imagining the past, present, and future all as one because time is an illusion to him. HAHA what? He’s totally not trying to sell you his bathwater. His bathwater is hot. This perfume is not. It’s just perfume. Don’t think too hard on it.
  • Market research suggests that Masters prefer their Servants to blend in with the era to which they’re summoned. In the 21st century, it appears that button-down shirts on men are a “good look.” It also suggests that a disheveled look is easier to be comfortable with, so he should unbutton a few buttons and roll up the sleeves to his elbows. Apparently forearms are sexy–especially if they’re B-Rank-Strength toned. 
  • The perfume uses Illusion to create a dream that takes place in a false-Avalon of sorts in which the wearer is in the garden. Since the wearer is already wearing the perfume by the time they enter the dream-state, they can smell it in their sleep. It’s not the dream that smells, but the wearer. Which is why the wearer’s partner might have the urge to caress and/or punch the wearer for the aroma that follows them, almost like one would be torn between caressing and/or punching Merlin.
  • Further market research suggests that Merlin achieves contemporary standards of sex appeal. The effects of Dreamlike Charisma allow him to ease others into enjoying his presence, even if they do want to punch him. And for that, he is smug. His smug, punchable face is part of what draws people into him. The air around him is light and airy, and the energy he exudes is calming. It’s hard to resist a man so sexy, smart, silly, and stupid. 
  • Kardashian Empire whomst? Versace what? Whatever the hell all those fancy-ass brands are, they ain’t got shit on this man. This one (1) singular man will outsell every perfume that’s ever existed, even if it’s exclusively because his abilities can be used as somewhat of an aphrodisiac. It’s not his fault he’s all mystical and shit. Baby, he was born this way. It’s not like he can just tell King Gilgamesh “no” after watching that incredible presentation on why they should start a perfume line. The two of them going in on a luxury scent brand together was a genius idea. Brilliant. He would’ve thought of it himself if he wasn’t so lazy.

Chapter Text

Dearest Sieg,

Hey! I hear you’re finally gracing NA’s Masters with your presence in the next couple days. I’ve been totally looking forward to seeing you again! It’s been waaay too long. It has to have been an eternity or something.

How are things? Did you ever get that scaly problem worked out? Caaaan’t say I’ve ever gotten eczema that bad. Dunno how you’ve managed, but try to look like yourself when I see you. I recognize Siegfried, but if you look like him or like a big dumb dragon, we’re gonna have a hard time catching up right.

I wonder if you’ll have a chance to see Ruler again in one of the infinite Chaldeas out there. How much do you remember from all that? Think you’ll be close again? Not asking for any reason. Just curious. There are so many worlds where you guys’ll meet again, I’m sure it’ll be great. Haha. Ha. Haaaaaa.

Okay, I lied. There is a reason. Ya see, Siegfried and I worked soooo sososososo hard to keep you alive. Like, seriously. Remember that time we dragged you out of Trifas to give you your own life? Or that time Siegfried gave you his heart and now you’re a Heroic Spirit of your own, kinda? Or remember that time when I used the Achilles’s Noble Phantasm to keep you from getting fried to a crisp by Lancer? Those are all things that totally happened. Can you believe how much we went through together in one Holy Grail War? 

It’s not...entirely selfless that Siegfried and I did those things, or that I did that, or that I did anything for you. At first it was a stupid act of wannabe heroism for me, trying to give a blank slate a chance to get some color from this big, beautiful world I love so much. Iiiiit wasn’t very considerate of me. Ruler is great and all, but she isn’t the best reference for “living as your own person” and stuff. It kinda sucks that I got stuck leaving you with her when I wanted to be there.

Thaaat’s whyyy it’s gonna be you and me when we’re back together in Chaldea, pal! You aren’t getting away this time. None of that self-sacrificing crap from you. Or me. Or Siegfried. Or any of our former allies. Or any of our former enemies that are now allies! We’re gonna do better that this time. 

Because. We are. The. Destined. Dynamic. DUOOOO! Ha ha HAAAA! It’ll be the greatest reunion in the history of history! You and me against the World! 

Errr, well, us against mysterious-things-threatening-the-World. Same thing. Who cares? You’re not gonna bail on me this time, sooooOOOoo...

Aaaannnyway, I hope you get to my Chaldea safe and sound. I’ll be waiting for you with the saaaame open arms we won the Holy Grail War with that helped guide lost spirits home. Maybe this catalyst can guide yours back to me!

Faithfully Yours~

The Cutest Paladin ♥♫

Chapter Text

Peanuts, the under-grown alligator that looked like an iguana, fondly remembered the day he became known as Commander back home. (You know, before he was robbed from a beach Singularity that he existed in for some reason.) He lead his comrades across a tumultuous sea during a thunderstorm, protecting them from the wrath of the water gods. From then on, he was the leader among his fellow under-grown alligators that looked like iguanas because they hadn’t gone through lizard puberty yet.

He looked back on the days among his scaly friends with slow, satisfied blinks, and facial expressions one might consider a smile. But he also looked forward with the same unyielding gaze. Chaldea gave him new opportunities to be Commander every day. He was content to that.

One fateful summer day, he gazed upon an army of Saber-class hermit crabs with particularly spiny shells and awfully awful claws. It was as if those poor crustacean never knew the pleasure of having someone maintain their hygiene for arbitrary beauty standards. After months of online classes through USC Los Angeles, Peanuts could recognize these things at a glance. To his knowledge, after all, hermit crabs needed to be protected by humans, even if those humans were Archer-class and were therefore more likely to accidentally kill them. Yes, during his post-secondary education, he learned a lot about a lot. One would think a lizard studying HVAC would be less worldly, but it was his worldliness and willingness to attach himself to an enigmatic Master and green-haired clay-person-thing that landed him in Chaldea.

Peanuts knew what he had to do.

Peanuts sought out a collection of tools. With the assistance of the Master and the Lancer, Peanuts agro’d all the hermit crabs in a kilometer radius. An army of hermit crabs chased Peanuts down the rocky shore, with “Enkidu” at his back preventing any unneeded disasters.

Peanuts did not realize how many disasters Enkidu had taken part in throughout history. He did not know the disasters Enkidu was often privvy to. So he was rather taken aback when he realized Enkidu shapeshifted into a larger, more sexually-appealing Lancer-class hermit crab to lure the Saber crabs into the trap.

“CP, are you ready?” the Master called. She stood atop a nearby cliff with her arm braced, prepared to fire bolts of magical energy at the incoming army of unkempt crabs. Her pale hair whipped in the ocean breeze, but her stance did not waver, even as she ate her bangs.

Commander Peanuts clutched his oversized nail file in one hand and shotgun in the other while the weed he stole from King Gilgamesh that one time hung from his firmly-pressed lips. He narrowed his googly eyes and prepared to instill proper self-care upon the masses of hermit crabs. He would create a gulag of goodness. A work camp of wonder. Not because he wanted to oppress the crabs or anything–their work ethic seemed lacking and their priorities were grossly out of order by the way they relentlessly pursued Crabkidu. Peanuts just thought they could use a hand. Or bolt. Or trim. Or something. Anything to bring them closer to the beauty the good Saint Jeanne believed they could have if they sucked a tiny bit less.

Commander Peanuts sucked a breath through his twitching nostrils. “Womp,” he said.

Chapter Text

A treetop beckons. Rigid bark awaits,
a foothold carved in wood to ease the climb.
No matter all our lives, I’ll watch you still.
How many times have we been summoned, friend?
I know your actions’ course before you do–
the aroma of danger calls you yet,
its odor drives you away from the fray.

I do believe I have told you before,
the way you gaze upon women mimics
another man to royalty or God.
You’ve wrapped yourself in fairy-tales so long,
Mother Nature is the fondest caress
you’ll get any time soon. That said, my friend,
you hide behind your hood before sunrise.
No lady can see your face if it’s blank,
nor read your expressions should you forget
that damned thing covers your best and your worst.
Believe your best is better than you are.
You’ve been known to do great things when needed.

If you took my penny for your thoughts I
would find myself sorely disappointed.
Heavens know you don’t have those–the pennies
or the thoughts. Truly what goes on in that
head of yours I have not already heard?
Perhaps you’re even dumber than you look,
thinking I don’t hear because I’m a bird.