poison & wine- part 1

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1470

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: Let me know if you’ll like to be tagged! This series will probably be a long one!

Hela-Avenger Masterlist

You must have looked like a fool. Smiling up at the sky with eyes closed basking in the warmth that the sun provided. You hear the clicking of the shade being moved and scowl as the sunshine on your face disappears. You pout and turn to Wanda who’s offering you a smile in return. 

“If you keep showing your face it won’t be long till someone recognizes us,” Wanda warns her as she fixed her sunhat. “Then we’ll really get in trouble.” 

“Yeah, like she said,” Natasha mutters as she hid behind a pair of sunglasses. “Anonymity is key.” 

“It’s a nice day out,” you remind them. “And for once you’re not on a mission. If you guys didn’t want to leave the compound then why are we even here.” 

“Two words,” Natasha states. “Bottomless mimosas.” 

You laugh in response knowing she had a point. 

Brunch was something the three of you enjoyed and something you insisted on doing in the city whenever you came to visit. Tony tried to change your mind saying he could provide everything in the compound and do it better but you persisted. You knew he was worried about the media and potential threats that could find you by leaving the safety of the compound but nothing has happened yet and nothing was going to happen. 

“Alright, now that that’s settled, can we finally talk about the elephant in the room already?” Wanda asks turning to Nat in question. 

“What elephant?” you ask. “What happened?” 

Natasha just offers a quirk of a smile on her lips and sips her mimosa slowly. 

“A certain god in the compound was trying to talk me into being his date for this Asgardian visit,” Natasha responds with a shrug. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” you comment. “And why would you say no to Thor? I thought you guys were friends.” 

“We are,” Natasha answers. “But he wasn’t the one who asked.” 

“Oh,” you whisper in realization. “It was Loki…” 

“Yes,” Natasha chuckles before turning to Wanda. “I don’t know how this one knows though. It was all hush-hush.” 

Wanda simply grins at the accusation. 

“It’s because he asked me first,” Wanda explains. “But Steve overheard his request and he was quick to tell him that I was needed here so I told him to ask you instead.”

Natasha shakes her head at hearing this, “He wasn’t surprised when I said no. Our history isn’t the best.”  

“He must be pretty desperate then,” you state. 

“He is,” Natasha agrees. “I don’t know why though. He’s gone back home before without caring about bringing a companion but now he suddenly needs one. It doesn’t make much sense.” 

“Wait this trip is to Asgard?” you ask interested now. “All expenses paid, free stay at the royal home in the realm of the Norse Gods...and you guys said no?” 

“It’s not worth going with the most despised god in the world.” 

You nod knowing she had a point but you couldn’t help but overlook that detail.

Asgard was a place you longed to visit. It held answers to the questions you’ve been holding on for so long in your life. This was your chance to liberate yourself from them. This may be your only chance.

“Earth to Y/N,” Wanda sings out. “Earth to…” 

“Sorry guys,” you answer as you shake yourself out of your thoughts. “Got caught up thinking.” 

“Thinking about what?” 

“About Loki’s request,” you answer. “He can’t be that bad, right?” 

“Have you even met him?” Natasha asks him. “Man reminds everyone he’s a God and that us mortals will never compare to all that he is. He also hasn’t apologized for New York and on top of all that, he’s just an overall ass to everybody.” 

“Yeah… that sounds pretty bad,” you mutter. “I’ve only met the guy a handful of times whenever I come around and we’ve never been on a mission before so I guess I don’t have the same experience you guys do.”

“He destroyed New York,” Natasha reminded you.

“I wasn’t here for that,” you shrug earning a glare in response. “Don’t worry, I get it. I completely get it. Loki = Bad Guy.” 

Natasha nods and changes the topic of conversation no longer wanting to give any more time or thought to the God of Lies. Unlike her, you weren’t unable to stop your mind from lingering on him. The equation still calculating in your mind but with a different result every time. 

Loki = Asgard. 

The return to the compound was as warm as the sun that had been shining on you all day. Your two closest friends besides the girls were hanging out in the living area waiting for your return. 

It had been a long time since you’ve come by for a visit. You didn’t tend to stay long not allowing them to get to close to you. You didn’t enjoy attachment especially not in this line of work.

“Hello you two,” you greet as you made your way in. “Is good to be back.”

“How long you staying, kid?” Tony asks with a knowing grin. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but let go of arguing against it. 

“Yet to be determined,” you answer.

“Well your room’s made up either way,” Tony states. “Stay as long as you like.”  

“Cool,” you whisper as you take a seat on the couch. Tony was serving himself a drink while Steve set his book aside to focus on you.  

“What have you been up to?” Steve asks as you make yourself comfortable. 

“Just the usual, traveling.” 

“Where to?” 

“Backpacking through Europe,” you mutter. “Not much has changed since the last time I was there.” 

“Where to next?” 

“Probably a trip to Asia next or maybe Australia,” you answer trying to sound excited. “Has yet to be decided.” 

“Getting bored already?” Tony jokes. 

Honestly, you were but you couldn’t tell him that. He would try to convince you to stay and start a new chapter of your life with them but you were not ready for that. You loved them. You really did. But staying was not a trait you held and he knew that. 

“No, not yet. In fact, I have made up my mind on my next adventure,” you assure him. “New cultures, new horizons, new… everything.” 

“And where is that?” Steve asks. “I thought you’ve been everywhere.” 

“I have which is why it’s time to expand those limiting horizons.” 

Tony and Steve share a look wondering what you could possibly be talking about but you don’t offer much of an explanation. You simply squeeze Steve’s shoulder and take your leave knowing you had a certain god to speak to.

Tony had set the Asgardian Gods aside in their own building seeing as their travels to their homeland and back kept ruining the landscape he so nicely paid for. You take your time entering the living area knowing that sudden entrances tended to startle the gods into action. You had never been a part of such an occasion but Tony and Steve had enough to say about it. 

“Anyone home?”

You can’t help but look around as you wait for a response. It didn’t look much different than the guest rooms you usually stay in when you decide to pop by but it was personalized. You took notice of the artwork and books that were not of the world you know. They were beautiful and you wish you could understand the inscriptions on them. 

“Don’t touch that.” 

You jump at the sudden voice and you can’t help but grow still in embarrassment. You hadn’t realized your right hand had been reaching to touch one of the many beautiful books on the shelf. 

“Sorry,” you apologize turning around to face him. “Got curious.” 

“Well, don’t.” 

You can’t help but chuckle starting to realize that maybe Natasha had a point. The younger prince was certainly a bit prickly but not enough to scare you away. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he scowled down at you. “No one invited you in.” 

“I knocked,” you pointed out. “No one answered.” 

“That’s because I was trying to avoid this,” Loki answers his scowl deepening. “Whatever this is…” 

You ignore his abrasive behavior and decide to rip off the band-aid already. There was no point in pushing this off. The more you interact with him, the more you were starting to believe that this might actually be a bad idea. 

“Look, I just… I heard you were looking for some kind of date to take to Asgard,” you state. “And I’m in. I’ll do it.” 

Loki’s scowl fades away as he narrows his eyes at you questioningly. He seemed to be considering it before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Who the hell are you?”

 Loki Tag:  @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​ @thesilentbluesparrow​ @oddly-drawn-muse​ @josiehosiedaninja​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​

All Works Tag: @not-zari-tak @jmb959​ @astudyoftimeywimeystuff​ @hellocookiecutter​  @steve-rogers-personal-hell​ @buckybarnesyard​

Love After the Fact Chapter 71: Reaching Out

TOUCHING MEEEEE.... TOUCHING YOUUUUU

This has nothing at all to do with the episode. But I just can't help myself

SWEET CARLOINE BA BA BAAAAAAAA

ALSO, click this link to choose what y'all want for Thanksgiving 2020!!!

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Adam is used to his first impressions being correct. This is because he is exceptional, and most people are incredibly ordinary. Lance and Keith are exceptions, proving extremely predictable, but endearing all the same. They’re well-meaning, capable, kind. They always welcome him, which is far more than can be said for most.

He’s only the slightest bit biased.

The point of these thoughts is that Captain Takashi of House Shirogane of Daibazaal is not particularly complex, but he is… dynamic? Layered? Interesting?

No. Interest- ed. That’s really the only special thing about him, the only thing sets him apart. Although… Being interested in him is interest- ing. Perhaps the man has some kind of undiagnosed mental illness, or maybe some brain trauma-

“Everything good?”

Adam starts. “Hm?” He’s leaning on the heel of his hand, elbow on the holodesk in Shiro’s quarters. It’s where he’s done his work nearly every day, aside from occasional trips into the villages with Shiro and learning about Daibazaani vegetation from Shiro.

“You’re staring at me. Like you’re trying to set me on fire with your mind. Everything good?”

“Apologies. I was just thinking.”

“Okay…” Shiro clearly doesn’t believe him.

Despite the occasional bout of supreme idiocy, Shiro is not a stupid man. He knows a half-truth when he hears one.

“I was wondering what I see in you.”

“And?”

“No idea. There’s not much.”

“I’ll try not to take that as an insult.”

“I believe you.”

“You are a very abrasive person, Adam.” The Galra meets him, eyes gray like the Night Mother Moon. “On the outside.”

Adam smiles. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Not a soul. And I like you too. More than like.”

Adam licks his lips, opens his mouth to speak, closes it again. He’s not certain what he can say. What they have is so fragile. Adam doesn’t want to risk anything.

He’s rescued by a knock at the door.

“Enter.” Shiro turns off his desk. He’s working on new training exercises, based on the most recent science. He doesn’t want anyone to see them before they’re ready.

Shiro’s a perfectionist.

A very thin Galra walks in, head and face bare except for a thin stripe of fur where their scalp should be. Adam has since learned that Galra of this type usually inhabit the marshier areas near the planet’s equator. They’re relatively uncommon in this region outside of the military.

“Haxus. Hello. What can I do for you?” Shiro swivels his chair, leaning slightly away from Adam.

“Sorry, Captain. Am I interrupting?”

“Not at all. What is it?”

“I’ve brought the hard copies you asked for.” The Blade hands over a thick stack of papers.

“Ah. Thank you.” Shiro flips through the documents, making sure everything is there.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why paper? Why not files?”

“Electronic files can be traced. I want these for myself. Training scenarios.”

“Oh. I… suppose that makes sense.” Haxus shifts uncomfortably, seeming reluctant to leave.

“Did you need something?” Shiro asks.

Haxus hesitates. “I just wanted to know… If you have any news? I know it’s been a long while, but I have to ask.”

Adam narrows his eyes at the Galra. He’s about Shiro’s age, maybe even a decaphoeb or two older. He feels like sadness. It puts the Altean on edge. This kind of sadness is deep and unpredictable. It can turn a person into an empty, or it can turn them dangerous.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t.” At the Galra’s visible disappointment, Shiro finds scrambles to offer some reassurance. “I won’t stop looking, Haxus. You know I won’t.”

“I know you won’t. Neither will I.” Haxus nods, shoulders slumped. “Even just something to bury…”

Despite his outward demeanor, this is the dangerous kind of sad, Adam realizes with a shiver. He can feel an angry chill rolling off the man, a biting, burning frost. He will not trust Haxus.

“With your permission, I’ll return to my duties,” the soldier says.

He leaves with Shiro’s nod. Once haxus is gone, Shiro throws down the thick stack of papers with a sigh.

“What was that all about?” Adam asks, fascinated, a little scared. What sort of secrets might be necessary on Daibazaal? What is Haxus?

“Haxus’ mate is missing. One of my other men, Sendak. I’ve known them as long as I’ve been in the military. We grew up together.”

“But why is that a secret? He didn’t want to talk about it in front of me.”

“They’re both biologically male. Such pairings are currently illegal on Daibazaal.” At Adam’s raised eyebrow, Shiro elaborates. “An expanding empire needs soldiers. Two males don’t produce soldiers. Zarkon declared it ‘conspiracy against the empire’ and banned new pairings before I was even born. Before Haxus and Sendak were born. But much like someone else we know, bonding can’t always be helped. We were with the blades by then. We all helped them keep it quiet.”

Adam stares at his datapad. “I didn’t know such bigotry could exist among your species.”

“It doesn’t. It’s just a law. Galra can be attracted to anyone. Someone’s sex doesn’t really matter to us. But it matters to Zarkon. He wants more warm bodies. I suppose we should count ourselves lucky that he didn’t decide to forbid established same-sex mates. Considering what he did to his own nephew under the guise of ‘cultural differences’, it’s not too much of a stretch to say he would be that cruel if he could justify it.”

“So… Haxus’ secret mate just vanished?”

“Yes. I sent a company of soldiers to assist with subduing a planet about a decaphoeb and a half ago. Sendak was part of the company, and disappeared in the fight. Soldiers on the ground are still searching, but between you and me? He’s dead.”

“Haxus must be miserable.”

“He is. He’s mellowed out a lot. Before, he was actually quite unpleasant to be around. Now… He’s not the same. Which is convenient, but… He’s hurting.” Shiro sighs. “I hate losing people. I do my best to take good care of my agents, but not everything can be helped, you know?”

“I know.” Adam watches Shiro return to his planning. “There was little I could do for Keith, except try to steer him away from Alfor and the higher-ranking guards. But he doesn’t need that anymore. He’s an adult now, and if what Lance has told me is true, he’s more than capable of handling himself.

“Lance, though…”

“He still has some growing up to do,” Shiro agrees.

“He’ll learn.” Adam leans back in his chair. “Lance has experienced some personal hardship, but never struggle or sacrifice. He’s lived spoiled and comfortable all his life. I know he wants to travel, though. Visit the various Altean territories. He’s already made a good deal of progress. He’s grown up a fair bit since marrying Keith.”

“Yes, I imagine raising your… ‘humbend’? Will do that to you.”

“Husband, and yes. I imagine it did, in many ways. For instance, he’s learned the difference between ‘the many outweigh the few’ philosophy, and ‘it’s morally abhorrent, but also what’s most convenient, so just do it’.”

“See, I always imagined that a parent was supposed to teach you what to do, not what not to do. I mean, that’s how Kolivan raised his sons. That’s how the military raised me. They weren’t my parents, but they treated me like their kit.”

“You’d know better than I. My parents were deployed and killed shortly after my birth. I was raised by various servants. And Lance, his sister, Romelle, and Lanval.”

“You and Lance seem unlikely friends.”

“Hm…” A smile curls Adam’s lips. “I suppose we do, don’t we?”

“Do you wanna… tell me about it?” Shiro presses.

Right. That’s what he’s supposed to do. Engage. Offer something about himself.

“I was born an earl. It’s the highest rank outside the royal family. After my parents were killed, I was raised by servants. Coran heard of my state and suggested me as a playmate when Lance was born. He wanted the royal children to have friends, and normal relationships.

“The others never liked me very much. Even when I was younger, I was… me. But just as I was me, Lance was Lance.”

“Friends with everyone,” Shiro murmurs, smiling.

“He’s my friend,” Adam whispers. “Maybe my only friend. Over time, I grew not only to love him, but respect him, as well. I forsook my title and lowered myself to serve him, leaving my estate behind.”

“What happened to your estate?” Shiro asks. “Is it waiting for you when you retire?”

“No. I gifted it to Lanval. His own fortunes were mismanaged by his family’s accountant after the death of his own parents. Lance needs him among the people, schmoozing and minding everyone’s business. I gave him a way to do that.

“The court considers it all a huge disgrace of course, but I don’t particularly care. I believe in what I’m doing, and that won’t change just because so many Alteans are spoiled and shallow.”

“Of course not, because you’re not spoiled or shallow.”

“Spoiled, yes. Shallow, no.” Adam pulls up a new file on his tablet. “Lance has just informed me that he and Keith plan to expand their house.”

“I guess Keith made his choice then,” Shiro murmurs.

“You don’t approve?” Adam bristles, ready to rise to the princes’ defense.

“Not exactly. I just don’t understand.” The Galra frowns. “Given the choice, I wouldn’t bring a kit into this empire. We’ll see what happens after Lotor ascends, but for now? I can think of more reasons not to have a kit than to have one.”

“It’s different for him,” Adam murmurs. “The princes have a responsibility to provide two heirs. And… I think he wants to do better than he had, you know? He and Lance have the perceived power to do better, and set a new standard for living.”

Adam sighs. “Keith has a lot to give, and he’s desperate to give it. I wonder what that’s like.”

“What what’s like?”

“To know what you want and just make it happen. But I suppose I gave that up when I took my position.” He returns to his work, drafting a missive to Lance to remind him to begin working actively on preparations for the spring festival.

“Adam…”

“Takashi.” Hazel eyes dart to the Galra for a brief moment before returning to his work. There’s nothing to say. They’re at a dead end, at least for the time being. They can grow as close as they like, and talk as often as they like, and still they can never be together, save for brief moments like this.

“That’s all you have to say?” Shiro whispers.

“What could there possibly be to say that we haven’t both already thought?”

“I’ll wait for you.”

A soft, violet hand touches his wrist, leathery pads brushing over the back of his hand. Adam stares at his datapad, unseeing. He’d been expecting silence, perhaps a few words of reluctant agreement.

“Until you’re ready to let go, or until I can find a way out of my duties, fuck, the rest of my life- I’ll wait for you… Will you wait for me?”

His hand shifts, gripping Takashi’s tightly as he dares. It’s a difficult choice for him, to let someone in, to promise them a space in his heart. He’s lost so much, and the less he has, the less he stands to lose.

Adam sighs, shifting in his chair so he can lean against the larger man, cheek pressed against his upper arm. "Every time I think life's run out of things to throw at me, you take me by surprise."

"Yeah, well." Shiro moves to wrap an arm around his shoulders, kiss his head. "The man I'm trying to impress has extremely refined taste."

"Not really." Adam closes his eyes. "Just you. Wanting me."

"I've never wanted anything so much. However long it takes."

"I'll wait for you, too," Adam decides. "And... I more than like you, too."

"How much more than like?"

Adam sighs. "A lot more than like, and that's as much as you're getting today."

"Ugh. Fine."

Love.

Fate’s Avenger Amakusa Masuda Shirou Tokisada from FGO EoR III. 

Shimosa just passed its 2nd Jp birthday, has finally debuted in NA and my pipe dream of getting him as playable Servant is still a pipe dream, so to hell with it,  I made him sprite and profile myself. 

Hopefully I’ve managed to get the tone of official FGO profiles right. 

Warning: there are some brief spoilers for Arc 2

PROFILE

A nearly 40 years old Amakusa who survived the siege of Hara and lost himself to grief and hate to the point of resembling a vengeful ghost long before his death.  

Discrete as a swordsman, but experienced and lethal as a mage; a jaded person who looks younger than his age but behaves like he’s older.

The years of his life between Hara and the events occurred in the Shimosa pseudo parallel world are shrouded in mystery.

Height/Weight: 180cm - 66kg                                                                    Source: Historical Fact / Alternative history                                                Region of Origin: Japan                                                                          Alignment: Chaotic Evil                                                                              Gender: Male    

A very different person to the Heroic Spirit previously summoned by Chaldea.

Bond 1

Up until he was 17 years old, his life went down exactly as his PanHuman history self.

However, as he was bleeding and about to die a man dressed in ridiculous clothing sprung from thin air, got rid of the shogunate soldiers and quietly offered him a clawed hand. 

After some time of feverish nightmares, Amakusa recovered enough from his injuries to witness Hara castle being razed from distance, too weak to stop it as he’d be to stop the mass executions that followed. His despair began turning into hate when heads were lined up by the thousands. 

Edo and the shogun’s family burned to ashes few years after 1639 thanks to his and Douman’s sorceries, dooming Amakusa original timeline to erasure and setting him on the travels that ended in Shimosa.                                                 

Upon his arrival in Chaldea and made to confront Ruler’s presence he renounced the Amakusa title and retook his family name of Masuda.   

Bond 2

«Amakusa Shirou» always possessed a decent number of magic circuits and the ability to wield any form of magecraft as long as he connected his circuits to a foundation, but usually his short life and the lack of magical education prevented him to become fully aware of his powers and reaching his potential as mage. 

As Masuda is an “Amakusa who got to live”, he also got the chance to hone that ability and learn to use many types of curses and offensive magics, in which he now specialise. Thanks to time, studies and the occasional guidance of Douman he became a cruel and skilled mage. 

Similar to his Ruler self, his arms have become a Noble Phantasm.      

Bond 3

The attempt at looking like Chaldea’s Amakusa employed in Shimosa discarded, Avenger now appears in his late twenties even if he was 37 years old at the time of his death. 

He learnt a technique or two for slowing the ageing process but as he refuse to look as if he didn’t survive 1638 or be confused with Ruler, he settled for a decade of difference from both. Outside the off-putting red sclera, his hair and skin color are those he was born with.  

His clothes are identical to Ruler’s but in colors and details, the main difference in their attire being Avenger’s armor. The one he wears was gifted to Yamada Emonsaku by the government in one of the first worlds Masuda and Douman visited. Avenger, who by then had mostly recovered and was furious, hunted down Emonsaku, killed him and took the traitor’s armor for himself. 

He could’ve washed the blood or scrubbed the crest away anytime but chose not to, for reasons he probably won’t be albe to fully explain.

Bond 4

The events of the pseudo parallel world of Shimosa were the culmination of twenty years of travels, machinations and despair that once again ended in failure thanks to Musashi, Senji Muramasa and the Master with which he has now begrudgingly formed a pact… let’s just say he’s far from having the warmest attitude or personality in Chaldea. 

Upon his death he was registered into the Throne as a distinct soul for obscure motives, perhaps even thanks to the machinations of a certain AlterEgo. 

Summoning this individual instead of the PanHuman history younger self when trying to call forth «Amakusa Shirou» would be near impossibile without Chaldea’s FATE system.

Bond 5

What all my nightmares are made of                                                          Rank: A                             Type: Anti-Army                                                                                           Range: 1~200 Maximum number of targets: 500 people Hell of Shimabara

A Reality Marble exclusive to this “Amakusa Shirou” alone. For a given time, reality is overwritten by the mental world of the caster. In Avenger’s case, the targets will find themselves in a hellish landscape were the terrain is made of ashes and dead bodies, the air a deadly poison filled with pained screams, fires rages and the burning, half-collapsed castle of Hara towers over its old and new victims.

Difficult to escape from, other than the obvious purpose of killing its targets it can serve as a momentary cage and torture device to those its owner knows able to survive it but wants delayed or trapped for any reason.

Tends to be more effective when employed against Heroes with Good alignment or receptive to the suffering of people.          

Right Arm, Path to Wickedness Left Arm, Foundation of Hell’s Curses Rank: C Type: Anti-Unit Range: 1 Maximum Targets: 1

His hands that have become Noble Phantasms. With them, he had caused ‘miracles’ to occur before the rebellion and with them he learned many ways to destroy his enemies after the siege. Able to connect to any magecraft foundation, they form a ‘key’ that allows him to wield any form of magecraft to various degrees, even those he has no understanding of. 

A rank higher than Ruler’s thanks to Avenger’s additional decades of magical education and training.

Miike Tenta Mitsuyo Rank: C+ Type: Anti-Unit Range: 1 Maximum Targets: 1

the sword Avenger carries, formerly of a "certain one-eyed master swordsman”. While a simple armament in the hands of PanHuman Amakusa, Masuda has spent years strengthening his own and embedding it with curses, which results in it current state of being surrounded by fire (that and the amusing reactions a blazing sword tends to have on a common soldier). 

Even if the powerful being who aided him in his revenge was never a devil, the blade gained some traits of genuine demonic swords thanks to its owner different conviction, a process not unlike the one that gave the Assyrian empress the Gardens even when she had no true connection with them.         

Not impressive as far as demonic swords go, but its wounds are poisoned and can pose a serious danger to saints or otherwise religious figures. 

CHARACTER

Personality

A calculating man who is no stranger to sudden fits of rage or detached silences and keeps to himself. Abrasive with allies as with enemies, he tries his best to actively push people away, not last because of familiarity with solitude and for finding crowds of people to be distressing. 

The smug but not malicious attitude of Chaldea’s Amakusa was probably part of Avenger’s personality too in the past, before it turned into the current viciousness and gratuitous cruelty in actions and remarks.

Glimpses of a empathic and thoughtful person buried under the rage can still be seen, albeit rarely, with young heroic spirits or those who have suffered a great deal unprepared. Like a Master freshly out their first destroyed, innocent alternative history.   

Not impossible to mellow out, but the process to gain anything more than detached tolerance would be a long one.

Motives and attitude

Aware of having being used as test for the Lostbelts plot by someone he thought an ally, he summoned himself to Chaldea out of spite and to return the betrayal with interests. He still resent the Master for what happened in Shimosa, but he posses intel Chaldea could use and he’ll provide it with glee. Somehow similar to the Count’s reasoning for appearing in the Time Temple, just less benign. 

Focused and effective in battle, it’s best not pair him with Servants who use firearms and cannons. The sound could bring his memories back to Hara and leave him in a state that could jeopardise the fight.        

The relationship with the Master is particularly sour and he’d rather spend his time holed up with Holmes and Sokaris sharing informations and discussing strategies and chances against the remaining Crypters than giving Guda some time or finding selected fellow Servants to relax with. 

Nonetheless, Guda persists.   

RELATIONS

Amakusa Shirou Tokisada (Ruler)

A nightmare for both.

Avenger is torn between resentment and envy for the boy with whom he shares family, people and the pain of seeing them slaughtered… and yet choose to protect humanity and -he believes- had it easier by not having to live with the guilt of being the sole survivor of the massacre.                                                   If one were to discuss Ruler’s plan for the Grail and how it’s hardly the wish a «not troubled» individual would make, Avenger would dismiss the attempt to have him see how alike they are saying «but he did not kill thousands, did he?». After some time, however, his resentment will mostly die down and he’ll be relieved to see how happier the kid seems to be in this strange new life.             

Ruler is horrified to face what could’ve become of him and tries not to see nor interact with Avenger in any way, up to avoid pointing out that by being incarnated for decades after a certain summon he knows all too well how it feels to live with survivor’s guilt. Nonetheless, after the initial shock has passed, he’ll sneak behind his older self back and asks for other Servants’ cooperation in not letting this mirror of his be alone.        

Ashiya Douman

The one who saved him from the siege and helped him bury his mother and sisters after the shogunate had them executed. An accomplice and manipulator at the same time, who nonetheless was the only familiar face and constant help he had in twenty years and his main teacher in magic. He doesn’t know if he wants to toss Douman into the sea for leaving him to die in Onriedo, leave him to other Servants tender mercies or…    Either way, he won’t push the AlterEgo away unless he’s in a terrible mood.  

After Douman joins Chaldea, half of Avenger’s time is spent keeping him from stirring trouble or from being murdered by the likes of Fuuma Kotaro or Asklepios and their roles of guardian-charge get inverted. A single action is completely forbidden to his old ally: going anywhere near Amakusa.  

Edmond Dantes

A strange man. What business could someone like him have with his Ruler self? And why would he pester him instead of leaving him alone or in Limbo’s company? Still, he doesn’t completely resent the attempts. They joined forces in physically throwing Douman away that time the AlterEgo had the disgraced idea to approach Ruler.        

Jeanne Alter Santa Lily

Much to Amakusa and the Jeanne sisters initial horror, Avenger has taken a liking to Lily, who reminds him of his younger sister Man. He tends to keep his distance but won’t send the young Lancer away if she were to approach first.     

Saint Martha

No matter how disillusioned with God Avenger has become, he has nothing but respect for the saint his mother was named after, especially after seeing that her moral fortitude and fighting prowess are paired with the personality of a punk brawler instead of the distant and composed lady he expected. When addressing her, he’ll use the most formal and respectful register.    

Japanese Heroic Spirits connected to the Tokugawa clan or government

For the well being of everyone in Chaldea, keep them separated. The same advise would apply to any eventual Dutch Heroic Spirit.  

Senji Muramasa and Shinmen Musashi

«Keep them the fuck away from me if you don’t want Chaldea to be covered in dead people’s ashes».  

Other Avengers

Initially fascinated by Angra Mainyu, he began keeping him at arms length once he learnt of Angra’s circumstances of innocent scapegoat on the grounds of «a victim shouldn’t be compared with a real mass murderer» and the frankly bizarre tendency of the boy to flirt with his younger self.                                        Displaying a detached tolerance for Jeanne Alter’s noisy personality, they once drew their weapons against each other the time Jeanne was worried for Lily but the matter was quickly settled and they were back to barely interacting.        He finds himself at ease in Gorgon and Hessian Lobo’s company and can be found napping in Lobo’s fur from time to time.  

Chaldea’s versions of Shimosa’s Swordmasters

No reaction except a smirk or a sad smile depending on the mood. Disappointed Chaldea’s Kojiro is a completely different person from the one he knew. Douman is fine, but sometimes more than one familiar face to hang out with wouldn’t hurt.

Panamá: Way of the Road

Crossing the border from Costa Rica, the road gradually got much more rural, the terrain got much hillier, and the houses became bamboo and wooden huts. By evening I still hadn't seen much for food and stopped at a tiny tienda. Picked out a glamorous meal of ground sardines and a can of beans. I asked the shop owner if there was a place around here I could camp. "No" he said sharply. "A yard, a field, a church?... Anything in that direction?" I asked. "No" he said. I thanked him for nothing and walked out to my bike. There was about a half a dozen people standing, watching, staring as I saddled up. I also ran into these kind of circumstances alot in Guatemala where there is also a very significant indigenous population. And I have to say it sometimes makes me feel like a very unwanted guest. Right at sunset, out of nowhere, I came across a nicely constructed house and asked to camp in their yard. Soft grass, super nice family- would reccomend. The next day, I had a short ride to a Warmshowers host by the name of Charlie. Charlie turned out to be in his 70's and was in the midst of constructing a hostel, running his fruit tree farms, and rebuilding some old machines. Charlie had lived a pretty colorful life back in the 60's and 70's riding the wave of hallucinogenic drugs all the way from the states through Mexico and Central America. He had stories of meeting Timothy Leary, various musicians, and many others. Assuming a portion of Charlie's stories are true, I was thoroughly impressed and entertained. The next day, I passed by Charlie's farm where he was working. He treated me to even more organic coconuts, pineapple, avocado, and sugar cane juice. Luxuries in America, but all of which he had too much to know what to do with. He'd been declining my offers to help out, but I did let him trade his machete for mine that he'd been eyeing. The road that day took me back over the continental divide and involved about 4k feet of climbing. But, the sugar cane juice in particular was like fucking rocket-fuel. Midday, in a remote area while I was pushing my bike up a particularly steep section, a farmer and I shared a greeting. He then asked me in fairly fluid English if I was "enjoying my exercise." He went on to point out the mountain he climbs every day to tend his crops. I've never met a farmer who knew any semblance of English, especially in remote Panama, so of course I inquired as to how... "Cable Television!" he exclaimed with a big, toothless smile . I reached a hostel called Lost and Found at the top of the divide. It involved another kilometer through a jungle path with plenty of complimentary stone stairs, mosquitos, and cursing. The hostel was definitely worth it though. The view looked out on the Panamanian mountains and it was like looking down on Jurassic Park. I tried to party that night as it was July 4th, but honestly, there were too many Americans at the bar. Or, more specifically, Californians. And maybe I was too sober, or have already spent too long abroad, but the accent and attitude just sounded too abrasive to me. The next day was my first full day off the bike in over a week. That day I went with a German and an Australian to a river canyon with some cliff jumping. And that afternoon I told my bike saddle to get bent and put my ass in a hammock instead. It was a cruise back down to the Pacific coast and I made it to a sleepy little surf town of Las Lajas. The hostel was named Johnny Fiestas. I was a little dismayed to discover there was no Johnny nor a fiesta there at the time. There was the manager, Darrio, and his lady-friend Julia. They were both a lot of fun and so for the first time in my life, I insisted on buying the "whole bar" a round. Dario was an Afro-American/Italian from Luxembourg. He knew about 5 different languages and was as laid back as the Hermes character from Futurama. Julia left that next day and Dario graciously accepted my offer to volunteer there through the weekend as they were booked up. I've found volunteering is pretty typical for backpackers in Latin America. It's usually at least a month commitment working for 4-6 hours a day in exchange for a free stay and 1-3 meals. It sounds great at first, but I usually dismiss the idea as in this part of the world that equates to $2-$4/hr. This was a very small and relaxed spot though, and I spent most of my time swinging in a hammock. If there were guests I'd be behind the bar serving drinks, which I love doing anyways... Hell I did it plenty for free in college. The rest of the day you'd find me strolling the beach, hacking open coconuts, or (something resembling) surfing. It was a fun, refreshing, and intoxicated, vacation within a vacation. I said my goodbyes to all the good folks there and rode out of town. Very refreshed, but not super excited for the next three/four days of highway riding down the mundane Panamerican highway. My bottom bracket ate a big turd on the first day and I knew I'd have to shell out at least a pretty penny in Panama City. I spent the first night camped behind the business of a nice family that invited me to dinner. The second with bomberos, and the third camped at a hostel in a surf town that was housing solely me, two Dutch girls and a pair of rabbis from Australia. One of the younger bomberos at the station was looking for some help with his English homework. I am always very grateful for the patience of Latinos to help me with my Spanish, so of course I jumped at the opportunity. We were making some progress and I looked up how to translate a word to Spanish. He asked about the Google Translate app and I showed him some of the features, including how you can use the phone's camera to visually translate text. He immediately downloaded the app, closed his book, and ecstatically thanked me. I suddenly realized what I'd done, but it was too late. I did plead with him to only use it as a tool and to focus on actually learning the language. He was so incredibly thankful... But the damage was already done. The last day was an exhausting leg slowly entering the huge city of Panama. The last bit of my central America voyage was a very unceremonious struggle over the kilometer long bridge over the Panama canal. Traffic was whizzing by and there was no shoulder. I found a really nice hostel where I hung out for the weekend. It felt crazy to have gone from the indigenous poblados consisting of bamboo jungle huts in the north Carribean to the largest city in central America, abound with towering skycrapers and department stores. I spent a day boxing my bike and another visiting the canal. Leaving central America was fairly unceremonious, but reflecting on it I've got very strong feelings. It was a very diverse region with a lot to offer. Of the places I've traveled, I had some of the best experiences there, along with some of the most trying. Sometimes being there after a while, things become ordinary. I got used to arguing about my change with the 8 year old cashiers in tiendas. Ringing the immense amount of sweat out of my clothes was commonplace as was smearing them with deoderant. One day, climbing in Panama, my shorts got so wet and hot that my camera took 384 pictures of the inside of my pocket and tried making several emergency calls. Details like these I won't easily miss. But, I will miss the fun excursions in the lush jungle of volcanoes and waterfalls, the diversity of food and culture, and the farmer who pops his head out of his crops to give me a big toothless smile and wave. It's been a blast, but keen to see what South America has in store for me.