#Gilgamesh's Flower

[arinewman7]

Gilgamesh's Flower

Luke Hillestad

Oil on Linen

[stellar-fiore]

CRONOLOGÍA Y ESCALAS DE PODER

Buenas! en este apartado pondré los años de donde son cada una de mis Musas. Ademas de explicar al respecto de donde vienen las musas de Fate, ya que ellas se desarrollan en un canon divergent de los sucesos de Fate/Stay Night. Igualmente explicare un poco como manejo las escalas de poder en caso que surja un rol de combate, especialmente para los Servants los cuales nerfeare por el bien de la trama (ya que Nasu el autor original de la franquicia, tiene la PÉSIMA! propiedad de poner a sus personajes casi dioses -.- para luego el mismo nerfearlos en sus obras...NASU PARA ESO PONLOS REALISTAS NO ME*****)

ANIMES DIVERSOS

Yoh y Sakura, ellos provienen específicamente del año 1998, así que si se les antoja un rolcito en los 90 pueden picarles a ellos. En cuanto a su escala de poder, es la misma que la serie, aquí no varia mucho.

Madoka proviene del año 2011 (año de salida de la serie) lo decidí así ya que el anime lo sitúa en un futuro no preciso, y el manga en los años 2000, así que bueno, un punto medio. Sus poderes y habilidades son iguales que en la serie.

También, consta aclarar que Madoka es su versión Puella Magi de las diversas lineas de tiempo anteriores que vivió gracias a los viajes en el tiempo de Homura (ya que la ultima linea de tiempo que es la de la serie ella no se convirtió como tal en Puella). La versión Ultimate Madoka o Goddess Madoka, que seria la de final de serie y Rebellion/Post-Rebellion, la reservaré para roles específicos, ya que en condiciones normales ella no puede interactuar con los humanos.

Maomao, como saben, en la obra original viene de un reino llamado Reino de Li, pero! tomando en cuenta que prácticamente es la antigua China, decidí cambiarlo a la misma, específicamente el siglo VII. Ademas, también tiene un Verse Moderno en donde es farmacéutica y ayudante de enfermería de su padre que es medico. Este no tendrá año en especifico, el año lo determina la historia en la que se sitúe.

NOTA IMPORTANTE!!!: Si los años de procedencia de mi musa y tu musa no coinciden, no tengo problemas en colocar que mis musas vienen del año de tu musa! Lo tomaría como un AU.

FATEVERSE

En este caso en particular me extenderé un poquito. Los sucesos de Fate/Zero se desarrollaron tal cual, sin cambios en la obra, salvo que al final Gilgamesh regresa al Trono de los Héroes. Luego de eso pasaron diez años hasta la Quinta Guerra del Santo Grial, la cual aconteció en 2004, que es el año donde actualmente se encuentran los musos de Fate. Respecto a Gil, dado que la personalidad que tiene en Zero es distinta a como yo lo roleo, la explicación es que al ser el único Servant semihumano invocado en esa Guerra, fue influido por la maldad del Grial Corrupto, volviéndolo la peor versión de si mismo. Ello y que desconocía lo psicópata que era Kotomine, que de haber sabido que era maldad pura en potencia jamas le hubiera alentado a descubrir su verdadera personalidad.

Ahora bien, la Quinta Guerra en este verse no ocurrió cual la obra original, aunque toma elementos de la versión/ruta Unlimited Blade Works. En esta Guerra, Gilgamesh es Servant de Rin, y si tiene su verdadera personalidad que es la que yo llevo (la personalidad del Caster) aunque igual Arturia fue convocada por Shirou, y que fue Kirei solamente el ultimo enemigo a derrotar, siendo el artífice de todo, y gracias a que esta vez destruyeron el verdadero núcleo del Grial y no la copa que lo contenía como en Zero, lograron de algún modo purificarlo, lo cual les permitió pedir brevemente un deseo al Grial, que se volvieran a invocar a los Espíritus Heroicos (lógicamente bajo ciertas condiciones y parámetros, no iban a dejar que cualquier Magus llamara a un Servant) al mundo humano, y que permanecieran los que estaban presentes. Desde entonces Gil vive con Rin (aunque también tienen a Enkidu casi de habitante de la casa (??) y Arturia con Shirou.

En cuanto a Lancelot, prácticamente es igual que en el Zero original, es convocado por Kariya Matou en la Cuarta Guerra, pero debido a las condiciones especificas de su invocación (las lineas del hechizo creadas para llamar a la clase Berserker), redujo aun mas su racionalidad humana, razón por la cual no podía comunicarse mas que en gruñidos y rugidos y actuaba mas brutal y salvaje, ademas de permanecer durante toda la Guerra en forma espiritual hasta que fuera necesario actuar, ignorante de la situación a su alrededor, hasta que murió a manos de Arturia, cumpliendosele el único deseo que tenia, que era ser castigado por las manos de su Rey, motivo el cual siempre le llevaba a actuar contra Arturia creyendo así era el único modo de provocar la ira de la soberana y que lo atacase a el también, aunado al sentimiento de ira que lo consumió creyendo que Arturia había sacrificado demasiado olvidándose de ella misma. Diez años después, habiendo concluido la Quinta Guerra del Santo Grial, debido al desastre de la misma y las consecuencias que dejo en las lineas ley, ademas del hecho de ser un Espíritu Heroico que fue previamente llamado a Fuyuki y encima estar vinculado a Arturia, apareció de nuevo en este mundo, al igual que sus colegas Servants recibiendo el deseo de poder vivir nuevamente en el mundo mortal como Servant. Vive junto a Arturia en casa de Shirou (luego de una acalorada discusión entre ambos Caballeros, uno porque no quería importunar a su Rey y la otra por no dejar a la deriva a su mejor amigo) siendo que gracias al deseo ambos Caballeros pueden compartir Master (aunque complementan su suministro de mana a través de la comida). Además, pudo recuperar su capacidad de habla, aunque la misma esta limitada al igual que su racionalidad y pensamiento por los efectos de la habilidad de Clase Berserker llamada "Mad Enhancenment", por lo cual cuando conversa lo hace de modo entrecortado, y sólo puede hablar con el estilo y modo que lo hizo en vida, siendo incapaz de aprender palabras u modismos nuevos.

En cuanto a las escalas de poder, Rin tiene los mismos poderes y habilidades que la serie original.

Respecto a los Servants, hice una pequeña modificación en cuanto a su origen respecto al original. Son seres espirituales en esencia, más al morir una parte de sus cuerpos trascendió con ellos junto a su alma al Trono de los Héroes (lugar donde residen los Espíritus Heroicos en Fate), lo cual permite al momento de su invocación ser "materializados" a través de magia, no obstante bien pueden tomar una forma espiritual. Por dicha razón, para hacerles un daño real o "matarlos" aka borrarlos de este mundo, es necesario el uso de magia o técnicas espirituales para herirlos de verdad. Las armas o golpes corrientes pueden lastimarlos o hacerles heridas pequeñas pero solo eso.

En cuanto a Arturia y Lancelot, al ser Espíritus Humanos, al convertirse en Servants vieron un aumento en sus parámetros de fuerza, velocidad, agilidad y resistencia entre otros, convirtiéndolos en "super humanos" a falta de un mejor término, siendo de los dos Lancelot el mas fuerte físicamente, por su clase Berserker que es la mas fuerte en cuanto a fuerza física (si queremos un punto de referencia, Arturia es capaz de mover un auto pequeño y usarlo como escudo, y Lancelot alzar una minivan, siendo ambos autos lo máximo que pueden levantar en cuanto a fuerza, o usando la escala de poder de Jujutsu Kaisen, están a la par de los Hechiceros Grado Especial). Respecto a Gilgamesh, debido a que en vida fue un semi dios, no recibió ningún aumento en sus parámetros de poder, estando dos niveles mas alto que sus congéneres Servants, o de nuevo, usando la escala de JJK, al nivel de una Maldición Grado Especial.

Igualmente, si los años de mis musas y tus musas no coinciden, le daré preferencia al año de tu musa. Los Servants no envejecen al ser Espíritus Materializados, y Rin seria su versión adulta!

[sakuraswordly]

Let's Analysis

Finding the North Star also mean Our Conquest on The Ocean of Stars

Enkidu: Tools need not the northern wind or the sun

But eventually, Punch and King Gilgamesh knew that couldn't last forever. In the end, he will be alone.

Not different in Sonic X Episode 39 how Sonic felt.

They accept the truth in this world or death or the cycle of rebirth and death. They can't accept the way that should be because they're not in that part and not humans. They're like stars that they will be the same.(#the shining stars who give hope) Even when the light vanishes into the darkness, they remain the same. That's why at first they didn't want to make a relationship with anyone. But they didn't understand why they needed someone by their side to guide them. Many planets still receive the light from those stars that shine so brightly. But because without planets, there would be nothing to see just like the sun and the moon, we wouldn't be able to see each other and the beauty of this earth without light.

Peter: When you need a reason to keep going, I'll remind you. And if you want to be the star in the sky. I can be your "earth"

That's the reason behind why King Gilgamesh never abandoned the earth. And....Sonic, Punch and King Gilgamesh are the stars and they(the stars) need a place for them, Syaoran, Peter and Danny are the earth.

Journal for the History of Astronomy: Source

Some concepts in the history of astronomy have seriously affected the development of science and culture in many regions. The concept of zodiac is one of them. The zodiac as a band of constellations, within which visible motions of the Moon and planets occur, played an important role in the astronomy of ancient Mesopotamia, ancient Greece, and countries of Islam. The ideas associated with the zodiac had not only astronomical but also astrological and religious significance. The history of Mesopotamian zodiac is of particular importance, since it had a direct impact on the formation of ideas about the zodiac in ancient Greece and in Islamic countries, and through them in Europe.

The history of the Mesopotamian zodiac is a long and carefully studied issue.1 It is subdivided into two key problems closely related to each other: (1) the discovery of the band of zodiacal constellations through which the Sun, Moon, and five planets move, and (2) the division of the zodiacal band into 12 equal parts to form the so called uniform zodiac used in mathematical astronomy. Sources related to the history of zodiac are cuneiform texts of various types (not only astronomical), dated mainly from the first millennium BC. This article will investigate just one aspect of the zodiac history—the question of when and how a system of 12 zodiac constellations was developed in Mesopotamia. We also set the task of identifying traces of this system directly in cuneiform sources. Surprisingly, in the existing historical and scientific literature this question has not been studied yet. But when examined in detail on the basis of authentic sources, the answer to this question might appear to be not so simple and not so obvious.

The three main astral symbols represented on the kudurrus: a) crescent; b) sundisk; c) star.

Examples of patterns represented on the kudurrus reliefs: a) linear pattern; b) 'triangular shape' pattern.

As you can see From: The Astral Family in Kassite Kudurrus Reliefs:: Iconographical and Iconological Study of Sîn, Šamaš and Ištar Astral Representations. These three symbols will be important and hint at the future.

P.S. Don't think anything romantic yet!

[dailyfatefigures]

Fate/Grand Order: Absolute Demonic Front Babylonia Herbarium Flowers for you - 2, Gilgamesh, Caster by Re-Ment

[corvianbard]

#5429

Snake of deceit and fraud, You who gained an immortal power To shed anything that is flawed From Gilgamesh’s flower, Come upon the humanity As various monsters of vice So to bring about diverse creativity In tales even if you are to pay the price.

[swankpalanquin]

also, kendall wanting to make a documentary on an epic poem... hjlmfr

[reddirttown]

Language of Flowers: Cedar of Lebanon

In the language of flowers, there is a flower for every day of the year. The flower for today, December 18 (Keith Richards’ birthday), is Cedar of Lebanon, which signifies incorruptible. Image above from Wikipedia. Cedrus libani, commonly known as the Cedar of Lebanon, is native to the mountains of the Eastern Mediterranean basin. Cedrus is the Latin name for true cedars. The specific epithet…

[redheadspark]

Can you write that Druig x Fem!eternal!reader have a fighting training moment, he tease her little bit during that so...😏 just fluff

A/N - Hey! Sorry for taking so long, I had to finish my prompt session! This was amazing to write, thanks for requesting this, anon!

Soft

Summary - Druig knows how to talk, but you know how to fight.

Warnings - Some teasing and some fluff :)

“Again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, do it again,”

You eyed him as he was making fists at his sides, his icy blue eyes were watching you like a predator who was eyeing his game.  To him, he probably thought this was a game, which made sense since he was the one who wanted to spar with you and learn how to fight.  Properly fight, in his words.  

But for him to ask you?  That threw you off since you knew you weren’t the best fighter amongst all the Eternals.  That was left to Thena, she made fighting look so easy and almost like a dance.  Even Gilgamesh was better at fighting than you were, with his brute strength he would knock a boulder back as if it were a flower petal.

Druig was no fighter, being the mind reader of you all he stayed out of the physical fights against the Deviants.  He could control a crowd of humans instantly with a simple gaze, so there was no real need for him to get his hands dirty.  

But he was intrigued and wanted to learn, which is what brought him to you one afternoon on the Domo before you were going to go on patrol with Gilgamesh.

“You just wanna….learn?” You asked him, seeing him fold his hands behind his back and simply give you his signature smirk and a shrug.

“Better to prepare myself in case it’s needed,” He replied smoothly, you giving him a suspicious look.  Druig was always mysterious to those around him, whether he tried to be or not.  There was always something hidden within him that no one could pinpoint, and this was one of those instances.  You looked from him to Gilgamesh, who simply shrugged and chuckled as you looked back at Druig.

“Why me?” You asked, seeing him smirk at you as his eyes drilled into yours.

“I heard you’re an excellent teacher,” he smoothly replied.  Gilgamesh snickered behind you, and you felt the tips of your ears burning.  Something in your mind was telling you that he was playing games with you, wanting to get a rise out of you and make you sweat.  He was always like this with the others, with you, when it came to his own amusement.  Snide remarks, and jokes under the breath, but they were all harmless in a way.  Yet this time, just in the way he said it and in how he was observing you for your reaction, you didn’t feel like giving him the light of day.

“Fine,” You replied shortly, seeing him grin widely in return.  

“Fine,” he echoed.  But you were already thinking of a great way to teach him how to fight.

By breaking him.

“Druig, I’m not gonna keep going if you’re on the verge of breaking an arm,” you advised him as he was souring off again, his feet planted on the ground and the adrenaline still seeping through his skin.  You could see it, his energy draining him with every round you two were doing.  It was making you want to ease and pull back a bit, but the other times you tried he was pushing you to not hold back with him.  From the very start, he wanted you to be hard with him, which surprised you when you both met up together in one of the smaller rooms in the Domo that was turned into a makeshift training room.

“I don’t want easy, understand?”

“You sure you wanna request that?”

“Yes. Don’t hold back with me,”

“I can do It,” he said to you, but even his voice sounded out of breath with his hair plastered to his head.  You rolled your shoulders, feeling some of the strain yourself since you both were sparring rather hard this day.  It was getting hard for you to find a good spot to pin him down, he was a faster learner and was picking up on questions and punches quickly.  Compared to the very beginning, you would be throwing him over your shoulder within two moves or knocking him off his feet with a swipe of your leg.  He wasn’t quick or light on his feet, he mostly had lead feet and slow hands.  

But if there was one thing Druig would never do, was quit.  

He took every beating and every defeat, his skin would be covered in bruises and his muscles would scream out in strain as the days rolled by.  But he would always show up, you think that he would fold after the first week or two.  Not that you had no faith in him, you did to a certain point.  But Druig was never a fighter by nature, and for him to go against his nature didn’t seem like him at all.  

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying I won’t.” You changed your wording, though now he was giving you an inquisitive look while you placed your hands on your hips.

“Sounds like you’re going soft on me,” he teased to which you raised a brow.

“This coming from you who is about to collapse in exhaustion,” You countered back, though he cracked a big grin.  You knew this was part of his game, using his words as a weapon to try his opponent off.  He did it with Ikaris so many times, along with Sprite when those two would get in a spat.  But now he was trying it with you, and you were trying your best to not let it show.

“You would like to see that, wouldn’t you?” He hummed, maybe hoping that you would smile.  But it was only giving your more adrenaline, to wipe the smirk off his face and to make him eat his words.  He saw your fists at your sides getting tighter and tighter, your legs locking in, and your eyes training in on him.

“Fine, we’ll go one more round,” You replied shortly, Druig’s smirk getting a bit bigger.  Perhaps he thought he got the best rise out of you and was going to win this little game he liked to play. But then again, he must not have known the side of you that you rarely showed the others, only in the heat of battle.  

“You know, softness does look good on you,” He said lightly.  You felt the lick of adrenaline come back over you again from his words, which were trying to shoot you like darts and trying to penetrate you.  But all you wanted to do at this point was shut him up, to somewhat put him in his place with how he was treating you.  There was no doubt you two were friends, but he also knew how to use his words to make himself feel superior.  It worked on Ikaris, on Sprite, and now he was trying to work it on you.

No. Not gonna happen

You made it across the room in a few strides, dodging the first punch he threw out with ease, and threw one back.  The sparring was brutal now, both of you going swiftly and with ease as punches and kicks were being thrown left and right.  Neither one of you were holding back, some cheap shots to the jaw or to the ribs and you dodging everything he gave you.  You did the same with him, noticing how quick he was now and simply not just trying to avoid a punch. 

But he got you in a good enough hold with both of your arms, his own arms wrapped around yours tightly as he was pressed against your side.  You tried to shrug it off one or twice, but he had some strength against him now as he chuckled right against you, almost in your ear.  His body heat longing for yours, his sweat mingling with yours, and simply being this close was enough to make you almost forget the position you were in.  The kind of intimacy that you had with the others being on the ship for so long together, you all had a connection of family and of leaning on one another.  

But this, this was different, this felt like a different kind of intimacy that you never felt before. The kind to make your heart beat a bit faster, to make your head a bit lighter, and that sense of safety being close to him.  But it was odd since he was always there, from the moment you all came to Earth.  Yet now, it felt like a shift.

“I like seeing this side of you, you know,” he said against your ear, making you almost shiver as you were still trapped in his hold, “And to think I got you all soft too,”

You glared.  That did it.

Pivoting with your leg, you pushed it up to be parallel to your body, then pushed Druig a bit to have your foot hit him square in the head as a distract him.  It worked, his grip on your arms loosening slightly but enough to have you move.  Throwing your leg back down as he stumbled from being kicked between the eyes, you know him back with your body and turn to back him.  You knocked him off his feet with your leg within a millisecond, seeing him fall on his back and you perched over him.  Grabbing his arm to pin it down with one hand and the other hand on his neck, right on a pulse point where you knew was his weak spot.

It all happened so quickly, one minute he had you pinned against him and the next he was pinned beneath you on the ground.  But something inside of you snapped, something animalistic and that wanted to prove that you weren’t going to be swayed by him.  You knew your own strength, your own worth when it came to being in a fight, and your ability.  But the way Druig was looking up at you, pinned to the ground and having no way of getting out of it, you saw something in his eyes.  There wasn’t hate, nor was there rage that you won at his own game.

Shock?  Astonishment?  What was it?

“Am I soft now?” You asked, your hand on his neck still soft enough to let him breathe but there was still a grip to keep him in control.  He gulped, you feeling it along your fingers as his blue eyes were searching yours.  Now he was hard to read, which was bothering you now since you felt like you went too far in both kicking him in the head and slamming him to the ground.  But then again, he was keeping his eyes on you.  No longer was he looking at you like some prize, there was another way he was looking at you.  Yet you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“No,” He gasped, not in pain, but out of breath.  Slowly, you were moving your hand away from his neck, right where you were feeling his pulse dancing against his skin and along your fingers.  This was a new sense of intimacy neither of you ever experienced with one another before, and it was fresh and raw and new.  Something inside of you was frightened by this, but it also felt….right. 

You released his arm and his neck, moving quickly to go back up on your feet and holding your hand out for him to grasp.  He was still sprawled on the floor, frozen like he was stuck against the ground, and had his eyes still on you in amazement.  You surprised him plenty of times in sparring sessions, yet this didn’t look like a surprise.  It looked like he was….having an out-of-body movement.

“We’re done for the today, okay?” You asked gently, seeing him finally move his arm up to grasp your hand.  You hoisted him up, seeing him nod his head and still silent as you smiled.  The mood was still tense amongst the pair of you, but it was better than how it was a moment before when you two were tangled in each other’s arms.  

“Come on, let’s get some food,” You said to him, seeing him smile in return for the first time.  It made you feel better to see him smile, not to see him scowl or seem angry with how you handled him. But then again he did ask for you not to hold back, to not reserve your strength to him.  You walked on, thinking he was behind you as you were feeling rather flushed from what just occurred.

You didn’t realize that you left Druig there, speechless with one of his hands reaching up to touch his neck where your fingers were.  You didn’t realize that his mind was turning and wandering to new thoughts, and new feelings.  

You especially didn’t realize that he was suddenly enraptured with you.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @virtueassassin @saradika @heartofwritiing @pemberlyy @heliosphere8 @reader6898

[honestsycrets]

Amor y Respeto II: Corazón [Miguel O'Hara x Reader]

chapter I: mi alma

❛ pairing | miguel o’hara x reader

❛ type | continuation of one shot.

❛ summary | you're trying to forget miguel with hobie's help on the field. but miguel isn't quite ready to let go.

❛ tags | jealousy, latina reader, slightly nsfw (only nudity), spanish is not translated, some mention of blood and wounds, violence, some paranoia, miguel is not pleased, an attempt was made at british slang, some creative liberties.

❛ sy’s notes | gif credit to aehanse. a little reference to gilgamesh with a golden bull in this chapter because i wanted a simple anomaly and for some reason a golden bull just makes me giggle a bit.

Miguel only left Nueva York for very important reasons. Very important reasons usually entailed a little stress relief at the end of a very stressful day. Very important reasons like your gentle fingertips running over his sweaty chest. Very important reasons like your plush lips wrapped around his--

“No chance,” Lyla chittered in his ear. “There’s the whole ‘I don’t love you’ thing. And that kiss?” 

A headache was brewing: everything twinkled, glistened, and refracted light.

“I was there, Lyla. Could do without the reminder.” 

“Really because--” 

“I can fix it,” Miguel growled, clawing past the tall buildings rife with beautiful flowers. It was your favorite time of year. The perfect time to go to the balcony and wait for him to follow behind, to pick off the yellow pollen that dusted his burnt umber hair.

When he finally breached your plant-filled balcony, the window was open despite his warnings to keep it closed. You loved the light and drew the blinds open day by day to let in the bright light of the day. In contrast, he could have done without the bright light streaming in during his early morning visits. That wasn’t wholly the issue. The issue was anyone who wanted to watch you sleep in your love-rustled sheets could. He could.

Miguel’s hands hooked on his slender hips. He glanced at the offensive presence of a singular powdery pink rose in a vividly graffitied cup that he hadn’t given you. He didn't need to guess to know who had. As your shorthair cat trotted into your bedroom, he realized that the rest of the apartment was empty. He wouldn’t be mewing at him if you were singing in the kitchen and making cookies that he shouldn’t eat. It's little, you would guilt him and squish a bite-sized morsel in his mouth. 

Miguel jerked his head to the side and threw a look at Lyla. She threw up her hands in response. They came to the same conclusion. “The roof?” 

There wasn't a worse time to climb the last few floors of your apartment. Light battered his senses as the sun crested past the rooftops of your city and emitted pastel crystal hues. Soon, the night would fall on your busy city and cloak it in darkness. In the darkness, problems always arose.

"Se dice-- never mind, it's a pastellio," you brushed off the small chunks of crystal that nipped at your forearms and picked a chunk up off of a paper-thin napkin. The crumbly remnants held their own memories. Memories of your fingers sealing pastry dough over a cool picadillo, arguing about the quality of HQ cafeteria’s empanadas all by yourself despite knowing that he liked them. They didn’t taste the same lately.

“Tastes like a meat pie,” Hobie waggled a crusty corner. “Must be a meat pie.” 

You brought the rim of an opaque brown glass bottle to your lips. The malt drink coursed down your throat slowly, leaving your throat cool and refreshed. Just the way you wanted to feel after a long day of work. “If that’s a meat pie, this is beer.” 

Hobie-- Miguel sneered. There had some alternative, impure reason he was here. Maybe it was to piss him off, to distract him from the work really at hand. If that was it, he lamented, he was doing a good job. Why else would he be here?

“A kiddy beer,” he flicked over one of his empty beer bottles. “Listen. You coming to see the concert?” 

“Whose?” 

“Mines, who else?” he answered. “Gwen’ll be there.” 

“It’s not really my scene, Hobie,” you said. “Don't you think I’m a bit old for that sort of thing?” 

“Old?” Hobie chirped after you. You swayed under the force of his playful punch to your shoulder and returned one to his willowy arm. Your eyes turned back to the crystalized sun dipping beneath the horizon. He sucked his tongue against the roof of his tongue. “Letting that muppet shoot his cum in ya is the only thing that’s gonna make you old. Complicit. You wanna be complicit?” 

“¡Fo! Gross, stop,” you dropped your drink to the side and flopped back onto the unforgiving concrete roof. But he had a point, your palm migrated over your belly. His spunk was probably still wiggling around in your stomach. Miguel simpered in the shadows.

“You never see these autocrats for who they are," he lamented.

“It has nothing to do with… Hobie. Hobie, my love isn’t politic--”

“Everything is political.” 

“Hobie, I take care of him-- them,” you motioned to your city, glittering in the fading sunlight. “For love and laughter. That’s what we all deserve. Love and laughter. Miguel wants it too, he’s just,” Incapable or unwilling, you suppressed. “Complicated.” 

“Complicated,” Hobie spat out as though it offended him. “It ain't complicated to me. He don’t love you. Half the time he don’t even like you.” 

“But I love him.” 

“His love? It ain’t enough.” 

“It matters to me.” 

A low growl emanated from his deep chest. It was enough to cause your heads to wrack around in his direction. Miguel steeled his body against the wall he dangled from, shielded in the dark crystally shadows of a mural.

“Should we--” you stared at the wall, eyes narrowing.

Fuck.

“Ain’t nothing to be worried about. Probably a rat— a big rat,” Hobie lurched over your body. His long and lanky arms caged your body beneath him. It was a universe apart from Miguel’s well-corded arms, broad and strong. Arms that, at the moment, Miguel used not to spring off the wall.

“It’s his muscles.”

“¡Ay cállate! Why is it always his muscles?” You ruptured into laughter and reached up to push him away by his thick wicks. You crawled out from underneath Hobie and stretched out your arms behind your back. Tension unwound from Miguel with an exhale of stale air from his lungs.

“You got a type,” Hobie lazed his elbow over his knee. 

“You don’t know any of my exes, Hobie,” you swept up your trash and covered your head with your rebozo-like cowl. At that exact moment, your watch blared. “And you ain’t know mine, either.”

“Vente, Corazón. I have a call.”

Corazón?

“Can’t handle it yourself?” Hobie hopped up and adjusted his guitar, slouching off his shoulder. 

“Just because I can, doesn't mean I have to,” you took a step to the edge of the rooftop. You turned your hands up. “C'mon, I’ll even make you cookies.” 

Make him cookies. You would change out of your blood-smattered outfit into a little slip to make Hobie, a man that you knew he had a very poor opinion of, cookies. A man that was reckless in life, reckless in HQ, and would not take orders that didn’t benefit his perception of the world. His breathing hitched, heavy and sharp, to keep his rage in check. If you respected him, you would never invite Hobie anywhere near your apartment. Especially not at night. What were you thinking? 

“That your way of keeping me for the night?” Hobie asked. “Think I’ll get lucky?”

“Is it working?” 

You looked Hobie over once, starting at his boots and ending at Hobie’s pierced lip. Your lips budded in a terrible smile. A look that Miguel did not like, not at all. You turned and stepped off the building, out of his field of vision. Hobie followed soon after.

The sun faded far past the horizon, cloaking Miguel in solitary indigo darkness. His fingers teased the ochre face of his watch-- he had things to do.

You didn’t need backup. 

You crawled out of the rubble of one of your favorite flower shops. Bits of lavender crystal embedded in your arm drew blood down your arm. As of late, it felt as though you couldn’t do anything right. Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life and fixed the amateur mistakes you were making day by day without mentioning your incompetence. He was good to you.

This time was different. You recognized this anomaly from another time, but not another place. It was here, at the intersection of Cereza and Trini, that months ago that Miguel and you-- No, you did not need backup. You didn’t need him.

The thick, muscular leg of the stupid bull stormed by. The thing was comically obnoxious. Just as obnoxious as the ache in your chest every morning when you woke up alone in your bed with Miguel visiting… not even once in the past few days. You wondered if he even thought of you.

“Miss Spider lady, are you okay?” a little girl with thick brown pom-pom puff hair and the warmest caramel eyes asked. Usually, she sold singular flowers at the cash register of her parent’s shop. You hated to think what hardship would come to them because of your inadequacy. If you could control your emotions, as Miguel rang true, this never would have happened.

“Si, si, Zaniah,” your head spun with the pain radiating from your side. You broke something, and of course, it wasn’t healing. You blamed him. Your feet stumbled forward in a line. You didn’t want to see the headlines of this one. Most spiders dealt with villains worth the name, villains with prowess. You? A shiny fucking bull from heaven. “No te preocupes, go, go.” 

“Mami, mami!” the little girl shrieked and bolted, her flowy purple cape dissipated as she disappeared into the back. You felt bad for the mother that would have to deal with that for the next few days as you broke into a run, flexing your wrist for webbing. 

If you could just-- trip the damn thing. Then, somehow, with enough time you could… oh, you didn’t know, bind its legs? Or bind its legs first then tip? But where would you even tip without casualties? Maybe, if you were lucky, you could lure it to the river-- but that was on the outskirts of town. You were running out of time. You had to deal with it. Had to. What would that little girl think? What would Miguel think? 

“You sure you don’t need backup?” Lyla asked, her gilded frame bending at the waist. "Because you look like you need backup."

“Si,” you hissed. “I am sure, Lyla. I don’t need anyone. And I especially don't need Miguel. I got this.” 

Your red boots connected with its fuzzy back. Its great, golden chain skid across the concrete floor, emitting an awful hissing noise. You seized its collar and jammed your heels into its back to try and force the thing to heel. It wasn’t. Despite your strength, you weren’t strong enough to do it on your own. The pressure on the side of your rib cage was becoming immense. Breathing became a chore. 

“No you don’t,” she sang. 

It was moments later that the bull howled pitifully. It slid on its side, crunching old cars and taking out rusty street lamps under its thick muscle. Despite digging your heels in, the damn thing whirled you off like a children’s dreidel. The force of the impact thrust you off its back and into a rusty tow truck. The pain burned low in your back. Hobie: to the rescue again. At some point, you were going to have to give him something better than cookies.

“Get up,” rasped your backup, cloaked in vast dark blue and red. Not Hobie, then. Your hazy eyes were playing tricks on you. You heaved out rattly breaths as you obeyed, or tried to obey the dumb big man in your life.

It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Heavy and hard, your limbs fought the attempt to move. Before you could complain a minute further about how fucking infuriating it was to have him run to your aid, your world eclipsed into the darkness. 

You woke up with a pulsing headache and the very unwelcome sight of Jess. Through her yellowy glasses, you recognized her colorful kaleidoscope of emotions: annoyance, derision, and eventually… relief. It wasn’t the infirmary. The bed was too comfortable for that. You quickly realized that you were in his room with nothing but one of his annoying tech bandages mummified to your chest. You knew from that alone that you were in for it-- if not for her face becoming increasingly more stoic. They should have been siblings.

“You needed backup,” her arms encircled her belly. “Didn’t you?” 

Your eyes fell to the soft sheets that tickled your skin. Breathing was still hard, harder with the anxiety of knowing a lecture was headed your way. You couldn’t lie to Jess. Tears pricked your cheeks and you tried to steel your heart from them.

It was impossible. His room overwhelmed you: from his rich scent that perfumed the sheets you laid on to the air you breathed. He was close by. That alone was more stress than you could handle.

“I know Jess. I needed backup. Pero, the anomaly, it was-- I thought I could handle it.” 

“Pero nothing,” she held a gloved hand up. “Girl, I don’t need your excuses.” 

“But I’ve called Hobie too much this week.” 

“Is Hobie the only one here? You could have called me. Or-- and I’m just being crazy here. Miguel? Your man?” she rolled her head toward the back of the room. She must not have heard. You followed her gaze to where he stood, his uniform flopped unceremoniously about his waist. Your heart strummed and skipped a beat. With her words, Miguel turned his eyes up from the wound at his waist-- to your eyes. They pierced your heart in the darkness. He would have come.

“You know what? I’ll just leave you two alone.” 

“No, no, no Jess, por favor--” She left without another word. Punishment in its own right. Your hand approached your chest, covering your cleavage from his sight. His hand swayed over the pad to lock the door shut. 

Your head dropped back on his flat pillows. Whether it was the bundles of discomfort at his presence or actual shots of pain, the awkward silence was growing increasingly too much for you to handle. He brought you here, into his bed, for a reason you couldn’t understand. You both were done. Finished. Miguel didn’t seem to think so.

“You act as if I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Maybe, he had seen you naked before. He had no right to anymore. You opened your eyes to look at him, noting the strong scent of sweat permeating his skin and the warm sheen that dusted his chest. You had your increased senses to thank for that. You swallowed air in forceful gulps and burrowed painful shockwaves in your chest. If nothing else, you could at least swallow pain with some honor.

Everything that Miguel did had a purpose. You couldn’t help but eye the way his thumbs looped around his waistband to draw his pants lower, freeing his swarthy skin from indigo fabric. Your eyes fell on his flaccid cock that sat on a tuffet of his thick black pubic hair, chased the curve sight of his shapely ass, and settled on his strong rideable thighs. It was the least egregious sight to stare at. He slipped the suit over his shoulder, raising his brown brows in unison. 

“And as if you haven’t seen me naked before, either.” 

“It… it’s been a while.” Your eyes darted past his figure to the door. You were sure it was locked.

"Has it really?" Miguel threw out as he disappeared into his bathroom. For a moment, you debated running. Your heart ached with the knowledge that he would just come to find you. He left knowing that you would not disobey him because, after everything, you respected his wishes. 

What Miguel's wishes were today was up for debate. The only thing you were sure of was the gentle pitter-patter of water droplets, the steam that emanated from the bath, and his lofty figure swaying in the distance. The warm certainty that filled your body knowing that he would come back to bed. Because that’s what Miguel did when you were hurt: he paid attention. 

He came back into the room nude, ruffling his hair with a fluffy towel. You couldn’t convince yourself to act as if you were asleep. His presence shattered any illusion of ignoring him, even with the expressionless way he considered you tonight. He was utterly intolerable.

After an eternity boxed in with your thoughts, reality came as Miguel, a smooth wall of muscle, clambered into the bed. The bed shifted under Miguel’s weight. Just as you predicted, the warmth of his chest was against your slight back and his large palm was flat against your stomach. 

You broke up with him for a reason, you broke up with him for a reason— Miguel didn’t seem to care about those delicate details. He caressed your neck with his nose. His lips dragged over your unmarked skin. As certain as a clock was to click, your body became slick with anticipation. You knew he could tell. 

You were weak. Weak out there. Weak in here. Weak everywhere.

“You smell… different.”

“Miguel, por favor,” you breathed, thready and thin. “It’s just Hobie.”

“Hobie?” he growled. Miguel’s hand encompassed the large space of your belly. Your legs shifted as Miguel held you a little firmer. You expected his hand to move lower, but he didn’t.

“Hm. Why would it be Hobie?” he asked, his voice dripping dangerously low. “Is there something I should know, Corazón?”

“No, I, no,” you stammered. He knew. Though you said the words, they felt cut off from what you were saying. As though the threat of his rejection took over all the confidence in your world. "You were watching?"

You turned in his arms to face him. His forehead creased in disapproval. You opted to press your forehead against his, running your nose against his, breath puffing his lips.

"You thought I wouldn't," he said. His eyes spun with sharpness, searching your face for evidence of the truth. As though he were asking if you’d been unfaithful despite the breakup. Your face was always pitifully easy to read. Even with the breakup, he could read your intentions as clearly as the words on his lab screens.

"I didn't think you cared."

You were used to a Miguel who crept into your bedside window, slunk into your bed, and woke you up from your slumber with the weight of his body between your legs. A Miguel that only had time for brief moments of pleasure and successful results. This Miguel was different.

"You know I do."

And there it was. He pushed himself free of the bed in search of pants. You watched him pull them over his ass before he flopped into the one chair in the middle of his room, head in his hand. Lyla, he rumbled something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. Your senses were dull, something you equated to the exhaustion and sleepiness that threatened to overtake you at any given moment. 

“Something is different. And it isn’t him,” he sneered. 

You missed the warmth of his body against yours. The ginger way he touched you just moments before. After days of being without his touch, you missed the simple things. Like the way he touched you. The way he focused on you alone in a room full of others. You hated yourself for craving it. You made a choice. Why couldn’t you stick with it? 

“What did I do wrong now?” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth. It was the very cottonmouth you feared you would have when telling Miguel about Gwen and Miles. Your mind was too hazy to rationalize what you possibly could have done this time. Miguel would always be an impenetrable castle, one you could admire from afar but never enter. 

“Nothing!” He snapped. You recoiled from the shrill in his voice. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, easing his tone down to a murmur. He threw you a small, bittersweet glance. Almost a smile. “Muñeca, you did nothing wrong. Get some rest.” 

He sat there a moment longer. A frown grew on his lips as Miguel stood up and walked toward the door. After one, two, then three attempts to open the door, his closed fist slammed a hole into the siding. It finally whirled open and allowed him to exit. It left you in the sea of silence that was his dark room. You never liked waking up in his room alone. It was bare, too bare, for anyone to live in. You worried that his mind was just like that.

“Lyla? Lyla, I want to go home.” 

It was a long time-- too long-- before she answered. “You should sleep.” 

And though she advised that, it was a restless night.

[kingsbride-moved]

If there is life after the Earth-life, will you come with me? Even then? If we're meant to be something, why not together.

Dianthus of Oenoe (also called Dia or very rarely Dianthe) is my main sona / self insert / etc. She's basically me but if i was in Hade game's setting <3 more info below! ( Art credits: Laurel (TH) / 2nd drawing is by me )

She's physically in her 20s and about 5'4. Her father was a human merchant from somewhere in Sub-Saharan Africa, and her mother was Chloris, a nymph-goddess from Etruria. Due to being half nymph Dianthus has some powers over plantlife herself, but they're very weak and mostly useless. Her hair and body will sometimes sprout flowers or even fruit, but it tends to happen randomly, and like any flower they eventually wilt overtime! She met Theseus while still alive, and aided him in his battle against the Bull of Marathon. Afterwards Theseus returned to Athens, but he intended to return to Dia's home so that he may have her hand in marriage. Unfortunately, however, Theseus was soon sent off to Crete to deal with another bull problem overseas, and Dia had to leave her home to avoid an arranged marriage. After this and up until her death, she became a Maenad, a member of the retinue of Dionysus, and thru him became associated with the Eleusisian mysteries. When she died, her body was transformed into a carnation. Later, in Elysium, she reunited with King Theseus, and helped him again, this time in the task of bringing Asterius to Elysium! Within the blessed fields, she works as a librarian. She's a rather sweet girl for the most part, and tries her best to be kind to others. However... she can also be a bit arrogant and self centered as well. She's very stubborn and headstrong when she needs to be, but also won't hesitate to give up on a task if it proves to be too much- she's very concerned for her own rest and relaxation, after all. When it comes to Theseus and Asterius, she often has to remind them to take breaks as well! Silly funfacts: ~ She writes gay fanfiction of heroes even more ancient than those of greece. ask her about her gilgamesh/enkidu yaoi collection (don't actually ask her she'll get embarassed) ~ within a plaza of elysium, there's a board within the plaza where shades can come by and pin things they've written. one user of this board is only known as "championsgirl01" and writes some very passionate posts... most of them in defense of the king himself.

~ Her favourite flower is actually the sunflower, but she also loves pink roses and carnations, her namesake. ~ She collects merch of the champions, and is the vice president of their fanclub. She also watches every match! ...In reality, though, she really doesn't care that much about the sportmanship thing. She just likes watching sweaty buff guys battling it out. ~ Friends with Patroclus, Achilles, Dusa, and surprisingly, Alecto. Has a weird frenemies thing with Zagreus. Co-workers with Hypnos but he's always asking what Asterius is up to which makes her look at him with daggers in her eyes </3

[redrydersrequiem]

Golden eyed phantom chapter 2

Paring Druig x reader

Rating explicit 18+only,minors,ageless,blank blogs will be blocked

Plot: phantom of the opera au

Warnings theres no smut this time and sorry if its a little shorter then the first chapter

The audience's cheers roll over you like waves as the final curtain closes. You're quickly whisked away, Madame Ajak, bless her, swiftly guides you to your new dressing room before the reporters, opera patrons and fans could move to swarm the backstage area wanting to meet the new star of the Opera de Popular. Much to your dismay however the entrance was already chaotically crowded with people. Thankfully Mr Nelson and Murdock where already front and center, Mr. Nelson was gladly answering the reporters and basking in the crowd's awe while Mr Murdock alongside Gilgamesh provided a more physical barrier, not letting the over eager patrons near, allowing you and madame to finally enter the dressing room.

Once inside silence overcomes you, finally feeling like you could breathe deeply,counting to ten a few times to calm the ringing beating of your heart. It’s not till madame cleared her throat that you looked up, an explosion of color filling your gaze. Flowers of every size, shape and color fill every available surface, bouquets of some of the most exotic flowers you've ever seen.

“Wow” Madame just laughs at your shocked face

“This is to be expected my dear” she goes about the room examining the abundance of flowers, focusing on one of the bigger bouquets.

“Look, this one is from Count Ikarus and his family. It sees that young man is quite smitten with you”

“Yes so it seems”

“What’s wrong my dear.? You don't seem excited about your successful debut?”

“No it's not that Madame i'm truly grateful for everything that has happened.”

“But?”

At first you don't answer but Madame gives you one of her motherly looks and all resolve crumbles

“But…… it feels wrong somehow like something is missing.”

“Something? Or someone?”

As soon as the words leave her mouth the image of your angel comes to mind, bringing a light blush along with it.

“I see that look dear, it's alright. It’s perfectly normal for someone your age, all I ask of you is to be smart about your choices ok.?”

You just smile nodding yes not really wanting to go into a whole spiel with her right now, but thankful for her all the same. The women truly being the only mother figure you've ever known

“I will mama jaks.”

“Ohhh thank you dear, I haven’t heard you call me that in so long i've missed it”.

“I'm sorry I.”

“No no, none of that. I'm glad to be mama jaks to you, you and sersi are my daughters whether you like it or not.”

She kisses you on the forehead before urging you up from the sofa and towards the changing screen to help you out of the heavy gown you've been in all night.

Once deglamorized you stealthily made your way to the dancers entrance avoiding any leftover fans, walking quickly to meet up with sersi. Your whole opera family was celebrating your triumphant first show at Gil and thenas house, Gil’s cooking and drinks galore is what kingo had stayed. Not wanting to keep everyone waiting, you and Sersi begin the familiar walk. Now it does dawn on you, that two young women shouldn’t probably be walking in the deed of night in Paris’s strees but the promise of having Gilgamesh’s famous (your favorite dessert) all to yourself overweighs all those worries

“I can’t wait to see what all Gil cooked. I'm starving.” Sersi simply laughs at you

“How is all you can think about is food after the day you've had.?”

“Hey you try being poked and prodded at and then thrust in front of hundreds of people in a heavy costume and not be hung/“

Her hand grabbing your arm halting your steps stops you mid sentence. She’s even pushing you behind her when you finally notice the black carriage that has now pulled up alongside the two of you. You both give each other knowing glances as you assume the defensive stances thena had drilled into you.

Just as the door opens and you both go to move a familiar head of brown hair steps out.

“Ikarus?”

“Little (y/n/n) and friend. I apologize if I frightened you mademoiselles, i was caught by opera patrons and was unable to speak with you. Imagine my luck to stumble upon the new star of Paris opera walking along the street.

“Yes, how fortunate. I'm sorry, if i had known you wished to speak with me i would have waited at the theater.

“No it's my fault I should have tried harder to get away, um if you could, may I have a moment of your time.?”

“Of course you may!” Sersi answers for you. “I’ll be just over here while you two speak” she nods to both of you before stepping over to study a random storefront, acting the picture of innocents and not like she just threw you under a carriage. Turning back towards Ikarus you notice his eye haven’t left sersi.

“Ehhem”

Ikarus’s head snaps back into place a practiced smile falling into place

“what can i do for you count de solar?”

“firstly just call me Ikarus please”

“ok Ikarus it is then”

“and you? Are you still little (ynn) or are you now the new diamond of the Paris opera scene.?”

“no i'm simply (y/n)”

”very well simply y/n, i must say your performance was a revelation. It’s amazing to see how far you've come since I last saw you.”

“fifteen years is a long time, a lot of things change.”

“yes…..i heard about your fathers passing, my condolences. He was a brilliant musician and I'm sure he would be incredibly proud of you.”

“thank you that's very kind of you, he would have felt honored to. Hear such high praise.

“Listen, I don't wish to keep you or your companion out in this cold night air much longer, so I will simply ask if you would be willing to have a meal with me, to catch up?”

After a quick contemplation you agreed not wanting to turn down the benefactor of the opera or a count. Terrific he replies before turning to his driver to discuss something quietly. You take this time to all sersi back over

“Did you both figure everything out?

“Yeah, he asked me to dinner.”

“oh y/n that's exciting. Oh he's coming back”

“Well I thank you for agreeing to dinner but I do have one more issue.”

oh?” You ask the duke questioningly.

“Yes it would be ungentlemanly of me to allow two young women to walk the damp streets of Paris at such an hour please let me top you off to your destination?”

You're about to decline given Gil and thena home is only fifteen minutes more away but once more sersi interrupts, accepting the offer for you both and allowing Ikarus to help her into his carriage before you get even a syllable out. The quick ride is filled with mostly Sersi and Ikarus talking (flirting) while you nodded along with whatever they were talking about just watching how they interacted, both sporting light blushes as they speak. However your destination arrives before you can make any sort of comment

“Here we are, sir.”

“Thank you mr smith.”

Ikarus quickly hopped out helping you and sersi out. You both turn dipping into quick curtsies, bidding the young count goodbye. He gives us both a nod and slight bow, his gaze lingering on sersi once more before hopping into his carriage and driving away.

“I can't believe that just happened, you truly do know the count y/n”

“I told you I did. Besides, I don't think its that impressive to know a count.”

“y/n you should be excited! He's young,handsome, kind and comes from a wealthy Noble family. He would make a perfect husband.”

“HUSBAND?…….. No sersi. I know that all sounds nice to you but to me he will always be the boy next door that was nice to me one moment then would tease me the next till he all but disappeared one day.”

“Oh sweety im/“

“/no it's fine, I understand what you're saying but Ikarus just isn't for me, in fact I think you should take your own advice.”

She whips around about to gripe at you with a blush on her face when the door bursts open, kingos extravagant self standing there, before he pulls you both into the warm house. Music's playing lightly as the boisterous noises from the living room pull you all in. And there everyone is cheers ringing in the air as everyone is ready to finally celebrate your musical debut.

The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, everyone had turned in, some (cough kingo and sprite cough) where. Forced to turn in after a night of one to many. You however couldn't find sleep for the life of you. Still too high on the adrenaline of the day to find peace so you decide to go for a walk. The early morning shops were setting up and beginning their days.Couriers race beside you. A few people wished you good morning before they went about their days. All in all it was a peaceful morning walk that ended in the same place it always did. The place you always go when you're alone or pent up or sad, happy, really any emotion. This was your safe place, the small cathedral attached to the Opera house.

Like always a few lone candles flicker in the room's damp breeze. Just as you go to light an additional candle for your father a musical trilling sounds in the room startling you. Looking around you see where the music came from. Under the cathedral's small stained glass window set a beautiful music box. It was a silver box, not large but not too small. It’s had (your favorite flower )designed on it rounding all the sides and laying carefully carved on the top, with tiny gems that sparkled like stars scattered around

(I cant pick one they’re all to pretty)

Where did you come from?” just as your about to touch the bow that familiar glowing aura brushes over you

“hello my little muse.”

There's that voice. That voice that teaches you with a stern hardness. Tha voice that caresses you at night covering your body in goosebumps and making your heart race. The voice you dream about that has you held captive. He was your teacher, your savior, your angel, your phantom.

“Good morning master.” you go to move to turn around hopeful to finally see the being that has overtaken every fiber of your body

‘Wait!” you pause, the air feeling charged as you obey his command

“Let me take you in first , my muse.”

The basic evening wear you wore yesterday didn't bother you when you put it on but now you wished you wore anything else, but nevertheless you felt his gaze roam your body like the finest piece of art. Out of your peripheral you can just make out the bottoms of his pressed black slack, the elegant polished boots and the swishing of the evening cape he had on the red lining accentuating his legs.

You attempt to see more but he steps directly behind you. His body is warm in the cold room, as you feel his fingertips glide up your back. Before his hands up your shoulders.

“my beautiful beautiful muse, how you shined like the brightest star in the universe. The goddess Aphrodite herself would be envious.”

“thank you master”

“oh how i relish those words do say it again”

“master?”

“emmmmmmm yes I do like the sound of that. Do you like your present my muse” he asks gesturing to the music box

“its beautiful”

“The song inside is of my own composition, please open it and tell me what you think.”

you reluctantly move away from his warmth to step back towards the music box, still not daring to look back over your shoulder. Tracing your finger over the flower on the top, taking a much needed breath and open the box

a hauntingly beautiful melody leaks out.

“Does it please you?”

“Its breathtaking”

“I'm pleased that something so small could elicit such feelings. I wonder how you would react to me then” a million thoughts rush through your head, he's finally going to let me see him.

“Would you like to see me, my little muse?” He laughs “I can hear the thoughts rushing through your head.’

yes master falls from your lips

his body steps up to you again. No room between the roof you as his breath fans your ear and hands take place on your hips. You feel like the earth would fall out from under you if it weren’t for his presence keeping you grounded.

“Are you sure my muse.”

“yes master”

“hmmmmmmmmmmmm”

you feel his. Lips kiss your shoulder and something cold above his nose brushing against you before he pulls back and the words you’ve waited so long to hear are finally spoken.

“Very well……… Look at me.”

Tags

@cdragons @ethereal-athalia

[quasi-normalcy]

The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere fulfills all your criteria for a solarpunk story.

Nothing unambiguously supernatural: this is admittedly the most tenuous, because the author lies to you. The society runs on "magic", which is extremely advanced technology made possible through Fucking With Physics. There's more context but it's far too convoluted to include here.

The society must be central to the plot: the plot is driven by the question of whether it's a good idea to prevent death, a prospect which is in-world unlikely, not impossible. There are constant references to recent in-world political events, and in-world ideological disagreements drive conflict between characters.

The society must come off as markedly preferable to the one in which we live, but should have its own problems: life expectancy is around five hundred years and scarcity does not meaningfully exist. However, there is extensive inequality as a result of wealth concentrating in the hands of the oldest people, and a lack of opportunity for younger people as there aren't really any employment opportunities left in this society. Turns out that truly post-scarcity capitalist economies kinda suck. Also there's no iron.

The society must be an extrapolation of our own: it is. Several thousand years plus an infinity into the future. In which humanity has fled to a constructed universe in the wake of a false vacuum collapse. Characters discuss the Epic of Gilgamesh extensively, and in-world cultures are clearly extrapolations of real-world cultures.

It should be noted that it's several hundred thousand words long, has increasingly-odd fourth-wall-breaking interludes, and is ratfic. It is also extremely good. The author is also on here, @lurinatftbn. Read it.

.

[stellar-fiore]

1, 2,4,5,6,9,11,15,18,19,20,22. - para los de fate y mao mao

who does your muse hate? -Arturia: la mentira, que insulten su manera de pensar y sus creencias y morales, la mala comida, que abusen de su confianza, que la cuestionen en exceso, la traición -Gilgamesh: las serpientes, las cosas sin un propósito o valor, que desprecien su conocimiento especialmente cuando sabe que tiene la razón, ver que la gente se autodesprecia a si misma -Lancelot: a si mismo, los estándares y estereotipos sociales, que las personas no disfruten la vida sacrificadas a su trabajo e ideales, cierto doradito (?, la injusticia y cualquier cosa que vaya en contra de su código de caballería -Mao Mao: la mentira, la hipocresía, que le vean la cara de tonta, que la subestimen, cualquier contacto físico o coqueteo, no poder conseguir las cosas que quiere especialmente cuando son valiosas

how does your muse handle grief? -Arturia: por lo general ella es una persona bastante cerrada, que en fecha reciente poco a poco se ha ido abriendo con la gente. Pero aun tiene la pesima costumbre que un dolor o una pena lo guarda en su corazon, considerando que es de ella y solo de ella, a menos sea algo en exceso grave que es cuando estalla. Por regla general no le gusta la vean llorar, cuando llora delante de alguien es que es algo muy grave -Gilgamesh: puede irse a los extremos, o fingir que realmente no esta afectado por el asunto (lo cual hace casi que todo el tiempo, excepto con sus personas de confianza) o hundirse en el trabajo o las fiestas para no pensar. Igual que Arturia no le gusta le vean llorar -Lancelot: siempre fue una persona demasiado expresiva de sus sentimientos y emociones, principalmente en ataques de furia siendo que antes gritaba hasta quedarse ronco, y ahora destroza todo lo que tenga a su paso para luego terminar llorando de rabia. A diferencia de sus colegas Servants le da lo mismo si lo ven lidiando con sus tristezas o no -Mao Mao: como alguien que ha pasado por tanto dolor en la vida, el mismo la ha vuelto una persona en exceso hermética. Nunca ha derramado una lagrima en su vida y es muy poco probable que lo haga, prefiriendo enterrar el dolor en lo mas profundo de su corazón

how many scars does your muse have? Actualmente gracias a sus cuerpos de Servants, Arturia, Gilgamesh y Lancelot no presentan cicatrices algunas. Pero en vida, Gilgamesh a pesar de ser un "semi" dios, tenia una cicatriz en la espalda y otra en el pecho, ambas producto de su batalla contra Huwawa, y una menor en el brazo derecho de cuando Ishtar dolida en su rechazo le hizo un desgarrón. Arturia no guardaba cicatrices gracias al poder de Avalon que curaba automáticamente sus heridas, pero Lancelot llevo unas cuantas mayormente en el torso y piernas. Mao Mao las unicas cicatrices que posee son las del brazo izquierdo

how long can your muse hold a grudge? De los Tres Servants Gilgamesh es el mas rencoroso, aunque por lo general lo enmascara con una mueca de desdén alegando que no va a perder el tiempo despreciando pedantes que no valen la pena. Arturia dependiendo del grado de ofensa que le hayas hecho, pueden ser desde una semana hasta años. Lancelot tiende a perdonar mas fácilmente, pero eso si, si te agarra idea u odio, te va a odiar para toda la vida.

Mao Mao rara vez detesta a alguien, de hecho prefiere no hacerlo porque es perder el tiempo. Hubo una epoca que odiaba a su padre, pero poco a poco ha ido superando ese rencor, aunque prefiere tenerlo de muy lejos

how does your muse handle loneliness? -Gilgamesh es el clásico caso que detesta estar solo pero jamas lo dirá en voz alta, a pesar que entiende y acepta que hay momentos que necesita estar solo para meditar y reflexionar

-Arturia ya esta acostumbrada al aislamiento y la soledad, poco a poco ha ido rompiendo esa costumbre, pero por regla general no le molesta estar sola

-Lancelot tampoco le gusta la soledad, porque de una u otra manera termina pensando en cosas que preferiría olvidar (a pesar que al mismo tiempo el las recuerda como un castigo auto impuesto). Por eso si no puede estar en compañía de alguien sale a caminar por ahí

-Mao Mao ama la soledad, principalmente porque es el momento que puede dedicarse a sus amados experimentos de medicina sin personas molestas interrumpiéndola

does your muse think violence is ever warranted? Para los cuatro, la respuesta es SI, aunque lógicamente las circunstancias varían acorde a cada uno: -Mao Mao por lo general evitara a toda costa el camino de la violencia, lo suyo es el pensamiento lógico y resolverlo mediante el habla, pero es capaz de levantarle la mano a alguien si tiene que hacerlo

-Gilgamesh, te da tres oportunidades, y dependiendo de lo que hayas hecho o no o lo deja pasar o te arroja dos espadas por encima en señal de advertencia

-Arturia, como buena guerrera, si la provocas o! te metes con lo que es sagrado con ella, lo mas seguro es que te rete a un duelo para defender su honor, lógicamente si puedes pelear

-Lancelot, en vida buscaba resolver las cosas por la vía diplomática, y una vez agotada se iba a las manos, o dependiendo que hubieras dicho de una se iba a las manos. Ahora, no hace falta provocarle demasiado para que quiera aventarte algo por la cabeza, aunque trata de refrenarse para no lastimar a nadie

what would your muse consider their worst failing? Mao Mao trata de no centrarse demasiado en sus fallos y errores, ella prefiere verlos como una experiencia de aprendizaje

-Gilgamesh, aunque NUNCA pero NUNCA pero NUNCA lo dirá en voz alta…admite que su peor fallo fue ser padre, porque considera que Ur-Nungal es el producto de todos sus errores, tanto el modo en que lo concibió como la manera en que "lo crió", preguntándose mas de una vez si el chico no hubiera estado mejor bajo otra familia, viendo en el joven todos los errores e idioteces que el mismo cometió de joven, a sabiendas que fue culpa exclusivamente suya

-Arturia, a pesar que en cierto modo supero los cuestionamientos hacia si misma, y esta consciente del gran legado que Camelot dejo para la historia, todavía a veces piensa que su peor error fueron sus decisiones como rey

-Lancelot sin duda fue haberse enamorado, aunque una parte de si sigue amando a Guinevere, la otra parte se lamenta en primer lugar de haberla conocido, alegando que si iba a sufrir por amor prefería no haberse enamorado jamas, y todo lo que le costo a su reino por su propia estupidez

what might others consider your muse’s worst failing to be? A cualquiera que los conozca que les pregunten: -sobre Gil, sin duda la época en que fue un rey tirano, para muchos ese fue el peor error de toda su vida -Arturia, ser una mártir que jamas se permitió un deseo o pensamiento para si misma, sacrificando todo en pro de su pueblo sin tomar en cuenta el como se sentían los demás -Lancelot todos los errores que cometió a raíz de Guinevere, muchos creyendo que lo mas sensato era, si no podía dejar de amarla, haberse ido de Gran Bretaña

-Mao Mao…nadie puede decir alguna falla de ella, porque realmente es difícil definirla a ella como un todo en palabras. A lo mucho que es una jovencita muy intrepita

does your muse suffer from nightmares? how often? what about? como Servant, Gilgamesh sufre muy pero muy pocas pesadillas, se podría decir que casi nada, pero en vida las sufría bastante, la perdida de Enkidu, su fallido viaje, el miedo a la muerte. A pesar que con el tiempo fueron disminuyendo, no dejaron de atormentarle durante toda su vida

-Arturia en vida sufría de vez en cuando de la misma pesadilla, ella viéndose devorada por un dragón, creyendo en principio representaba a su tío Vortirgen, pero en realidad se trataba de ella misma, de su eterno miedo constante a fallar y con ello la caída de su reino. Como Servant en cambio, mayormente se trata del momento que se vio obligada a destruir por vez primera al Santo Grial, y en menor medida, cuando creyó perdería a sus amigos en la Quinta Guerra, siendo que las sufre de manera esporádica

-Lancelot es el que sufre de mas pesadillas, producto de su mismo sentimiento de culpa, optando por a veces pasar días sin dormir. Esto ya lo sufría desde sus últimos años de vida, siendo que antes de su relación con Guinevere, de vez en cuando tenia pesadillas de perder a Arturia o alguno de sus amigos Caballeros

-Mao Mao en esencia es la misma pesadilla, y solo si y solo si! le tocan el tema de sus padres, del resto duerme tranquilamente

out of everything your muse has lost/given up, which hurt the most? -Mao Mao hace tiempo acepto la realidad de su familia, incluso diciéndose a si misma que ella nació sin la capacidad de amar, aunque sabe que no es cierto o si no no amara a su padre adoptivo. Así que para ella no ha perdido nada

-Gilgamesh es otro que no se arrepiente de las perdidas consecuencias de sus acciones, sabiendo que todo había tenido un porque y una razón. Excepto Enkidu, aunque esta consciente que sin la muerte de Enkidu no habria hecho tal viaje que le permitió descubrirse a si mismo y crecer como persona, no significa que lo acepte, es mas, quiza nunca llegue a aceptarlo. Especialmente por las consecuencias que trajo su fallecimiento…y en cierto modo haberse resignado en vida a que su relación con Gal nunca seria como el realmente la hubiera deseado, aunque al final de sus días ambos hubieran llegado a una relación cordial

-Aunque Arturia al final de la Quinta Guerra acepto renunciar para siempre a su sueño del Santo Grial, no significa que deje de dolerle, aunque no lo exprese en voz alta, especialmente cuando ve a su amigo todos los días

-Para Lancelot, las perdidas que vivió aun le siguen doliendo en carne propia, a pesar de haber conseguido su mayor deseo que era el juicio de su Rey durante la Cuarta Guerra

what is something your muse wants to tell others, but is too afraid to? -Mao Mao no tiene reparos en decir las cosas de frente…salvo cuando se trata de la dueña de la Casa Verdigris, su "abuela", a quien se cuida de decirle algo si no quiere afrontar las consecuencias

-Irónicamente, Gilgamesh mas que miedo no sabe como decirlo, especialmente luego de haberle dicho en sus primeros años de infancia que deseaba se hubiera muerto, y siente que decirlo ahora seria una hipocresía. Pero es un simple lo siento a su hijo, aunque suene insólito de parte del Rey de los Héroes. Y lógicamente nunca lo dirá

-Aunque en la actualidad Arturia esta siendo mas honesta respecto a expresar sus pensamientos, todavía le cuesta mencionar en voz alta respecto a sus pensamientos y sentimientos mas profundos

-En vida, a pesar de por regla general decir las cosas directamente, hubieron cuestiones que por miedo Lancelot se cuido muy bien de decirlas, principalmente para no lastimar a sus amigos y camaradas. Pero ahora como Servant no tiene miedo de decir y expresar lo que piense, y si no lo dice es por mera cortesía

looking back, what is one thing your muse wishes they had done differently?

-Mao Mao no tiene ningún tipo de arrepentimiento de su vida, esta satisfecha como se han dado las cosas, porque a pesar de todo no le falto en cierto modo el calor de unos padres, así fuera de manera totalmente atípica. Es mas, ella lo ve como ventaja porque le enseño a ser independiente en la vida.

-Para Gilgamesh, es el tema de su hijo, aunque de nuevo, jamas lo dira en voz alta. Siendo alguien que le gustaban los niños, se imaginaba sus futuros herederos concebidos y criados de manera distinta

-Y en el caso de los Caballeros de Camelot, mejor no le toquen el tema, que aunque a Arturia le duela menos que en el pasado, sus errores siguen siendo una llaga en su corazón. Ni hablemos de Lancelot, que ha tenido días en que ha llegado al extremo de desear jamas haber salido del Lago Nimue para convertirse en Caballero

[sakuraswordly]

Ashes of Dreams (lyrics):

Hidden so deep in veils of deceit, Imprisoned in twisting spells - Are we the plaything of fiends, or merely the dreams That we're telling ourselves, telling ourselves?

Stories of danger, fearless attack, Spectres of plague and pain. All of these ghosts of our own delusions are back; Have we been fighting in vain? Fighting in vain?

These lyrics are the meaning of this picture art that I paint. Fighting in vain? <== This is the hint of how the story will go so far. This is the story of Punch. Punch appearance as half to show why she changes her appearance. It shows that Sonic and Gilgamesh are part of her personality. (But Punch's personality is based on me more. I will explain later at the end of the blog)

Sonic, Punch and Gilgamesh are the same. Because they are Punch.

(Warning contains Fate extra ccc and Sonic games spoilers)

Enkidu: And yet you lived for many years, you were reborn as a tyrant

Gilgamesh’s violence only increased after he became a young man. Not only the people of Uruk, but even the gods who had made use of him had had enough of Gilgamesh’s despotism.

“Gilgamesh isn’t fulfilling his true purpose.” “We need something to punish that insolent man — ”

As for Sonic....

greenyvertekins: His greediness.

Yeah, I know. Very rarely shown trait that actually only shown a tiny handful of times such as in this in which he's very willing to fight hard for that last meat bun;

and in the Black Knight opening in which he's more concerned about catching his food and eating it than really taking the situation all that seriously (Not that he really needed to…) then saying a big "Noooo!" when he drops the second one and doesn't have a chance at getting it before Merlina teleports them away.

I doubt that bringing up how ravenous Sonic apparently is in Purple Frenzy form would mean that much-considering gameplay and story segregation and the debate about how intact Sonic's mind actually is in that form considering he acts little more than a mindless monster that eats objects with a single-minded ferocity.

greenyvertekins: Extreme obstinance to his own personal view

He certainly wastes no time when it came to attacking Merlina when she revealed her plans and her one-sided sadness. In fact, he looks like he's ready to cleave her in two just for asking why he doesn't understand her feelings on Camelot's future;

This feels like an extreme course of action to take considering that if anything, Merlina was more misguided than truly malevolent and didn't do anything truly objectionable before this. He's also not all that willing to admit when something is difficult for him as indicated by Team Sonic's ending in Heroes in which Knuckles goads him into admitting that this time Eggman came close and that if it wasn't for him and Tails assisting him, he "Wouldn't have stood a chance". Whilst Sonic admits this to a degree ("Hmmm, well Maybe you're right Knuckles"), it's still only a "maybe" and he's still quite obstinate.

greenyvertekins: Bad loser

He hates being deprived of the win or getting things wrong. Good examples of this include Jet besting him in the Ex Grand World Prix despite the cheating and blaming his initially poor swordsmanship on Caliburn i.e If you keep getting hit by Arthur in the Misty Lake boss battle, Sonic will state in bad temper who he wishes he didn't have to use "This dang sword" and when Caliburn states that he wished for more time to train him, Sonic states that he wishes for a better sword.

Back to King Gilgamesh

Gilgamesh born with a body that was of the highest grade by mortal standards and knowledge reaching truth, Gilgamesh was born, designed, as king and the Wedge of Heaven to connect the rising humans and the fading gods. He was sent to ensure the humans and bind the earth slowly leaving the Age of Gods. He was a being embodying the two life sets of life forms, with the blood of those who had ruled and the blood of those who would rule from thereon. He was to be the ultimate neutral party.

Enkidu: …But. I knew the reason for his transformation, I knew so well it hurt. When he was born, this conclusion was already made. He was alone, a creature neither god nor human. With the characteristics of both sides, his viewpoint ranged so wide and so far not even the gods could understand the things he saw. An excess of power lead to an excess of loneliness. Even so, he did not give up his place as king. He did not flee the purpose he had given himself.  …what a powerful ego, I thought. He earnestly respected the gods, and loved humans. It was just that, in conclusion, he had chosen the path of abandoning the gods and hating humans.

Free-spirited, adventurous and fun-loving #ソニック 🔵💨

He cares about his friends and hates bending. He doesn't seem to want to be a "hero"😮

Still, Sonic, who helps everyone with his heart, might be the coolest hero

In Tsubasa of Phantasia, Enkidu gave his life for Gilgamesh. Enkidu's decision to die for Gilgamesh is the same reason why Syaoran chose to save Sonic's life no matter what.

Enkidu: “That’s right. I was a weapon. A tool. Not like him. Though Gilgamesh was made as a child of the gods, he was a hero who defied them. He had a soul from the beginning. He had free will ever since he was born. A true life, unlike mine. A star, with real value, not a consumable like me. …I had always yearned for that. I hated it. Why, when we were made by the same gods, were we such different beings.”

Sonic is a hero, but not the usual hero that we tend to think of. He seeks for action and adventure, but he is willing to help out anyone in need, and does things he thinks is right. So, to me, he's a hero, despite him not seeing himself as that.

This picture is what Gilgamesh means "my childhood". He refers to Sonic. In the past, both Punch and Gilgamesh were much like Sonic back then. Sonic, Punch, and Gilgamesh were all good at speaking body language as children. Sonic, Punch, and Gilgamesh love nature and were very positive about the world where they lived.

molinaskies: As confident and collected of a character as Sonic is, he has always been a character who feels so, so, so immensely. What recent English game scripts butcher and what a lot of people seem to miss outright is that Sonic is highly emotional but doesn’t have the emotional maturity to comfortably process or showcase his more negative (anger, sadness, fear) and complex (romantic love, admiration) emotions. He knows they’re there, but usually refuses to address them. We see signs of these feelings in games and external media, but – again, by design – Sonic suppresses those feelings to focus on what he loves - his speed, his freedom, world peace, and his friends. Sonic is a fifteen-year-old with the responsibility of the world’s peace and his found family’s happiness on his shoulders. He bears that burden alone and it clearly affects him, but he’s not at a point in his life where he’s ready to confront his heart. He just knows that it’s big, that it’s in the right place, and that it’ll be there for him when he’s ready. Whether that’s Sonic’s healthiest option can be debated, and I’d argue that he should let the people he wants to be closer to him in (Amy is a strong example, but that’s another essay that’s been done to death – perhaps another time), but the fact that he’s an emotional and reserved character is not.

kagekitsuneoflight: Actually there is a very good reason why Gilgamesh hates Shirou. And it’s not a “I’m an arrogant bastard. I don’t need a reason to hate this boy trying to claw his way to my level.” Gilgamesh sees Shirou for what he is. He’s taken bits and pieces of others and stuffed it within himself with hardly an effort to make it his own. And to Gilgamesh, this it’s infuriating. He loves when humans are themselves and honest and to see this boy with a stolen dream wielding stolen legends, stolen pride (because keep in mind. A Noble Phantasm is a symbol of a hero’s pride), he cannot help but be infuriated. Who was this boy, this faker, who dares claim to be a Hero of Justice when it is not even his own dream?!

As the King of Heroes, the First Hero, he absolutely cannot let this stand! He, Gilgamesh, is allowed to use those symbols of pride as projectiles. He is the King of those owners of pride. It is within his rights. Yet.

He never truly uses another’s Noble Phantasm, does he? He doesn’t grasp their pride and use it as his own.

fukurou-hoseki: Sonic's more dominant personality type is his observation. He's a curious little cat who will observe the area around him and listen to the people in question. He never cuts anyone off, even if they are a foe.

Sonic, Punch and Gilgamesh are observation personality types.

Enkidu: Thus, I was gazing on the fortress city. The voice calling to me came from within it. Suppressing my impatience, I counted the days until he would be grown. In childhood, he had an air of royalty about him surpassing any other on earth. Open-mindedness, prudence, justice, he valued all of these virtues. The average person walking by was charmed by him and would sing his praises. He appeared the ideal boy-king. I could only think that the gods had made some mistake, saying he had grown proud. The young Gilgamesh had no faults in need of punishment. …if there was some problem with him, it was only that while he did honor the gods, he didn’t submit to them.

Because pure heart as a child is the reason why Shadow never forget Sonic. Sonic's heart is just a baby. (I hate to call that) but have a lot of responsibility when it's time. That's why Shadow care for Sonic.

Shadow: “Sonic reached out to save me before I fell to Earth from the Ark. If I hadn’t waved him away, Sonic would have fallen with me, but his determination in trying…I’ll never forget that.

This picture is what Gilgamesh means "my younger self". He refers to Sonic. Fundamentally, a polite and modest boy. His type of woman goes along the lines of a "flower that blooms in the wild"(He refers to Punch).

Enkidu observed the young Gilgamesh, but could not understand the need to punish such an amiable, ideal king who was praised and lauded by his infatuated subjects. Sonic is the same as Gilgamesh back then. That's why deep down Gilgamesh very care for Sonic a lot. But because of him now, he will hurt Sonic if Sonic knew the truth about what happened to Gilgamesh. And all because of him. That's why he always stays away from Sonic and lets Punch face off.

Gilgamesh: But I don't want to lose who I am....if I lose, then who will remember you, my friend.

Sonic: No matter where I am. I'm never going to change

Some things are beautiful because they cannot be obtained

fukurou-hoseki: Sonic stood up to accept his fate. He was going to allow Erazor to kill him there and then. Shahra jumped in front of him as she promised, as his master, she was bound to protect him from harm.

The same way to Punch and Gilgamesh. They already live life to the fullest. That's why they gave their lives to do anything and accept their fate no matter what this event will happen. But the problem is......

Punch: Sonic doesn't know what's hurt, what's love, what's sad and what's revenge is. He did feel revenge and anger but not the same as humans that's why he never ended up like Shadow. But he had a strong heart. Me and Mr Gilgamesh too. We understand this sentiment, but we never understood it. Sonic is not the type to love hugging. That's means that only those who really important to him allow to hug and touch him.

Sonic didn't understand what death mean even though he knew what's mean. In Sonic Prime shows how much he is hurt when his friends are gone(This is what death meaning is). Sonic just realizes how hurt he is when he lost his friends.

Enkidu: It was to protect Uruk though? If we don’t defeat all evil on the Earth, our people will starve to death. So why, I asked again. He made the people of Uruk suffer by his tyranny, so why was he worried for them now?

Gilgamesh: It’s not so strange. I was born to be a protector of humanity, after all. Building the future of this planet is the king’s duty.”

Enkidu: I see. So you preferred the path you saw here.

In Sonic and the black knight, Sonic already chose this path even though he would end up as a villain. Sonic didn't mind at all. The same way why both Punch and Gilgamesh decision and never look back on what they chose.

Gilgamesh: Do not take me so lowly. How can I be a hero if I cannot swallow a curse such as this? All evils of the world? Heh, bring at least three times as much as that if you want to stain me. See, Saber. A hero is someone who carries with them everything they see. I am already carrying everything in this world.

Because he doesn't understand the hurt and doesn't understand that his body was weak and needs to rest. Sonic keep pushing forward until his body was limited. Like Gilgamesh in Fate grand order, he dead from overwork and then takes a shot from Tiamat originally meant for Ritsuka. Despite his condition, he continues firing the Dingir. A clump of Lahmu then crashes onto the ziggurat with force equal to Gugalanna’s hoof, knocking out Ritsuka and Mash.

Bonus: This picture is what Gilgamesh refers to Syaoran, Peter, and Danny in Tsofph's story. Gilgamesh knew that these three will do anything to protect Sonic, Punch, and Gilgamesh in the future. Gilgamesh chose to walk alone and only because his A+ charisma will hurt them.

Because this is why Gilgamesh both loves and hates himself.

That’s mean...If you mistake Sonic's personality, that means you never understand both Punch's and Gilgamesh's personalities. Because these three characters were hard to write.(It's already difficult to understand yourself. Right?) That's why I need to gather many characters to make events and understand them much better. True that Sonic and Gilgamesh are both based on their original creator. But as I told you. They are the same Punch.

Sonic is based on my childhood personality 50%.(Sonic is mostly based on me the most of all three. But still Sonic is different than me because I love water and the ocean more than Sonic.)

Punch is based on my negative personality in the past 100%. (My first hated and my first feeling of revenge you could say. In the present, I don't feel any negative now. I'm happy and accept my life. They are all in that past.)

Gilgamesh is based on my leadership personality 50%. (This is the real reason why I chose to study petroleum at university. This subject is the hardest I have ever challenged in my life. If I understand this, I can show how clever Gilgamesh was and what he knew in the past.)

This video AMV I made 7 years ago. This one just cut part of the video.(Yep…I still can't believe that I put my heart into this story too much when I was back then.)

This BLAZE is the first opening of Tsubasa Chronicle (anime).

Music by: Nieve Arrangements by: HAL Lyrics and performance by: Kinya Kotani

[terraxcloud]

A Few Many Things...

There are 5 or more timelines, and it's not worth counting them anymore.

Biggs dies in one (the middle) but Zack at the church immediately talks about him being alive (this is the Zack that meets Cloud in the final battle I believe). The first image is the last Aerith date and the Stamp bag is to the left. Johnny appears with a plushie of a dog to show it's a different timeline instead of using a bag.

The reason it's not worth counting them is due to what Sephiroth says:

In this scene the FF9 Terra/Gaia "two planets becoming one" thing is shown again.

They represent the timelines as worlds, but what they're showing is an FF9 thing involving actual planets. I'll look at DFFOO Act 4 Chapters 4 & 8 again to see what's up there. Of course, they wouldn't say it's planets because of the implications, but that's not to say these timelines aren't coming together...they just need a reason since most people just think the devs are changing things just to change them. Gilgamesh has already appeared in this game from his own rift anyway.

After the Temple of the Ancients, Aerith and Tifa aren't able to stop Cloud from giving the Black Materia to Sephiroth. The date scenes between Aerith and Cloud are more than likely for Yuffie than Terra, especially since we have no idea of Terra other than the main theme lyrics.

The descriptions Cloud gives about what he prefers and how he acts matches what they show of Yuffie's interests (chocobos, getting paid for jobs or acting like a merc, smiling, seeing Red XIII as a dog, staring at Cloud, the poses for the photo with Aerith, being pissed off, etc.

This isn't saying that Terra is supposed to be like this. Yuffie was always a reflection of "real Cloud", however, both Terra and Yuffie are similar to him (the whole "siblings" dynamic). It could be that the Terra we got in other games isn't the same as the one when FF6 was being developed before the main character vanished (Kefka may have sucked her personality away).

The thing that makes Cloud "regain himself" is remembering the flower Aerith gave him in the beginning of Remake.

I don't know if Aerith will find the "real Cloud" herself. Tifa represents that part, but it's clear they're changing things with her. Obviously, they're going to use the "dream" this time around, which is what Aerith represents (she already has a shared dream with Zack), not Tifa. They also put a small shooting star bit with Aerith instead of Tifa, but if Aerith's technically dead the only character that can do these things is Yuffie.

The dialog Yuffie gives immediately gives after Cloud wakes up before the Lost Capital is the hint. It couldn't be encapsulated in a small scene, so they just left Yuffie out of it. If she's not going to do anything, why would she say it immediately?

Another hint was after the Demon Gate boss when Cloud starts banging his sword on the wall to break through. The two characters they show reacting to him are Barret and Yuffie, but the camera goes towards Yuffie in particular. Before this Yuffie was shadow boxing with Barret, which is what she does with Cloud at the end of her date scene (it also happens with Barret after leaving the Mansion at Nibelheim before the final Roche boss fight).

I believe Red XIII represents the change Cloud has personality-wise ("you don't always have to play the badass") while Barret represents the anger he feels at Sephiroth. Having Yuffie shadow box Barret for fun while Cloud is going crazy for the Black Materia shows that Yuffie will have a big role in preventing Cloud from doing this in the 3rd game.

The Corel sidequest with Cloud Jr. shows Barret's change to being "softer" as he explains that he was always hard on others and going after everything that ticked him off, making others suffer in the process. It makes sense why they show him and Yuffie reacting.

The other sidequests that show this "anger" issue are the Chocobo Billy ones with Yuffie in Nibelheim and the last one at the Gold Saucer with Tifa. The Yuffie one is more about the anger issue while the Tifa one is more about learning what happened in the past.

If you think about it, the only thing Cloud doesn't "remember" is being a normal Shinra foot-soldier, the one with motion-sickness (maybe the memory of him defeating Sephiroth from Remake is gone due to the whispers? He does react to the tubes in the Shina Mansion a bit).

The dialog Yuffie has about Chocobos are also noteworthy (since if we go by the symbols, Yuffie is the Moogle and Cloud is the Chocobo).

Btw, these two scenes are kinda similar:

Another "Yuffie represents the Moogle" hint is made at the Gold Saucer intro. Cait Sith summons a Cactuar, a Tonberry, and a Chocobo, but what about the Moogle? It's Yuffie since the moogle is on her pop star outfit. These four on the orphanage chalkboard in Remake. With the characters we've seen so far it may be like this:

Cactuar - Zack Tonberry - Sephiroth Chocobo - Cloud Moogle - Yuffie

The Tonberry King boss battle has MAI dialog that sounds similar to Sephiroth's dialog when he goes insane in the mansion basement. It's kinda fitting that this is a Yuffie sidequest and you need to steal his crown.

The Cactuar thing is Zack due to the "pose" which Cloud, Yuffie, and Red XIII also do in the last proto-relic quest. People know that's something Zack has done.

Every sidequest has it's own meaning. The one similar to Cloud's Dissidia story is the Barret one in Gongaga with the weaponsmith.

[zeravmeta]

thinking about which danganronpa protags would survive if they were in fate (can be any series from fsn to fgo, or whatever new setting)

makoto: survives 100% of the time - you can make a 1-1 with guda pretty easily and i wont even blame you for it but also naegi is his own special flavor of normal (insane) comparatively because he's voiced by megumi ogata and is fated to suffer more than christ on the cross due to being irresistible to murderers and freaks. ultimate luck keeps him alive specifically to make more shit happen to him that he just has to deal with. someone get this man some ibuprofen

hajime: likely dies - despite his snark he's actually less headstrong and determined than he would appear to be and while not cowardly he is more prone to giving up, which is a threat not only from enemies but can get you killed by your own servants depending on who you gacha roll. he Can survive if he gets the right servant but his odds arent good, hajime is just as unlucky as makoto but without the plot struggler armor that keeps making makoto survive just to suffer worse

izuru: likely survives, only dies by association - like 2-3 years ago i made a comparison between romani/solomon and hajime/izuru and even now i stand by it, if solomon is somehow in the game files so is izuru. that said this guy in fate would literally be human gilgamesh powerwise but not nearly as loud, so while hes not wanting for power hes also lacking in basic emotions and humanity, which could be a kick in the knees for him

komaru: likely survives - the naegi clan superpower is being irresistible to murderers and freaks but unlike makoto she is more open to fuck with said freaks freak, which in fate can shorten life expectancy but usually extends it.

toko: likely dies -

(source for these two)

kaede: true 50/50 - the idea of kaede as a survivor works just as well in tandem with kaede being one of the most tragic dr characters. ndrv3 chapter 6 trial "this guy should have died instead of kaede". anyways behold my glory listen to the thunderous applause here is the honor of the imperium like a flower in bloom open the golden theater aestus domus aurea

shuichi: survives - hes already in a fate game, its just that the game is called persona 3 and in it he is called makoto yuki. hes also in another game called persona 4 and transitioned into a girl called naoto shirogane. there is a strong possibility that holmes fgo has some dna taken from him