we share our mother's health

SERVANT kiritsugu emiya affiliated with f/sl

[koukeiri-blog]

@kavachas​

There are parts of this new existence that are altogether easier, scaling buildings and being able to set up his equipment as a mere act of will is one of them.

He had set up his rifle and scope with the intents of looking for a specific man in the industrial district, but instead finds his eyes draw to a rather out of place pair.

The servant is humanoid, but clothed in something that looks like a body suit of armor and war paint. The little Master with him is like a tiny pink spec against the background, barely coming up past his knees.

He considers, briefly, if it wouldn’t be altogether kinder to make a shot. Remove her from conflict before it has a chance to get ugly, or her Servant turns on her as they sometimes do.

But the laws of time and life here are different, if the dead can breathe again, if he can exist without the curse of the Angra Mainyu what’s to say mercy wouldn’t be fruitless against the ultimate will of the GRAIL.

The sheer number of child Masters make his mind wander to Illya, makes him wonder if by some twist of fate she’s here too, if he isn’t projecting his idea of “mercy” onto someone he sees his daughter in. He’s done it before.

It’s a little too painful to consider for very long.

So he turns his attention back to the Servant from scope of his rifle, positions it to the far right and fires twice. They’re blank rounds, but the popping sound of gunshots is enough to make the crowds below scream.

He could find the mafiosa he was looking for another day.

.

[koukeiri-blog]

@inherlikeness​

He’s not surprised that children are here, but it is a bit surprising that one so boldly has challenged him to a game of chess.

In truth, Kiritsugu had sat down at the public chess table because it was there and he required a place to sit and flip through the disgustingly cheery pamphlet on how some thoughtful deity or another was going to undo all the tragedy in his life (funny how the faithful were still at it even after reckoning had come and passed) and have a good laugh. Maybe even light up a cigarette before moving on.

He ends up folding up the pamphlet and turning his attention on the boy. He’s small and thin, but is fixing the pieces with the practiced motions of someone well-versed with the game. He must be older than he looks or very persistent.

He ends up smiling in spite of himself. The strange child reminds him too much of Shirou to feel like the world hasn’t conspired to secretly indulge him. 

“I’m afraid you won’t get much of a challenge out of me. I haven’t played in a while...” 

He leans forward too look at the pieces and rub the stubble along his jaw.

“Shogi is close enough that it should at least be interesting....if you still want to play against an old man. “

He picks up one of the ivory pawn in front of him.

“Boys your age usually want the white pieces.”

[koukeiri-blog]

[koukeiri-blog]

@panzerjagd​

He had walked out of the residential district during what appeared to be early waking hours, for a quiet smoke.

 It wasn’t exactly the smartest idea to spend what little money they had on an expensive habit, but he was certain there would be opportunities to make whatever he spent back. The need for a quiet killing was a profession that had never really died out, just gotten more difficult.

Kiritsugu had paused to light the cigarette at small wooden bridge that out-looked the surrounding lake, shielding it from the north west winds skimming across it. There was something surreal about the stillness of it all, or perhaps, he had simply been dead long enough that any sensory stimulation was odd.

He’s about halfway through his cigarette when a young man joins him on the opposite end of the bridge. Honestly, “young man” is a generous stretch; he’s practically a child. But, the military style uniform and stern look on his face say he’d probably resent being referred to as such.

He’s been starring at the lake for quite some time, long enough for Kiritusugu to have finished his cigarette. He takes a long drag and exhales a thin stream of smoke.

“I’ve never tried, but I don’t think drowning would be very quick. Better to pick a fight and see if you die in combat.”

[koukeiri-blog]

not this asshole again (kiritsugu emiya) - fate series

imagine your dad but his dad jokes are about dying 

career assassin

kiritsugu "how do i have a conversation that is not about murder" emiya

sorry 2 all shirous but especially alter emiya

at least you didn’t inherit his nicotine addiction

sorry 2 all illyas but especially prism illya 

sorry not sorry arturia

his mother figure drank semen to power her own magic so that was a thing 

reunited with his dead wife who still kinda resents him

if you like urobuchi at all pls read the light novels

[koukeiri-blog]

@arquemie​

He’d never been the type to frequent bars. Even when he was with Natalia - who had always enjoyed a stiff drink to chase the other things she had to drink - the risks of going in often outweighed the benefits in information gathering. 

His first true drink had been a swig of potato vodka that he had almost immediately spat out before Natalia had taken the spirit and doused the corpses they were leaving behind for a lesson on flash points. Ethanol gas was useful in a pinch.

The interior of this bar is altogether nicer than the aforementioned one, done up in stained woods and  hunter greens in a style akin to an English pub rather than the dusty one in the old Soviet Bloc. 

Sapporo, Kirin, Asahi, Suntory, Nigori. Despite being a very western styled bar the presence of familiar Japanese brands is displayed proudly on their back wall. Utopia is an odd mix, like someone slapped together a list of worldly comforts onto a flat geography with no history or culture. 

He orders umeshu on the rocks. The man to his right at the bar orders a whiskey. He’s blonde, but facial features, mannerism and accent narrow his origins to somewhere in the United Kingdom. They’re hard to pinpoint until you get them talking.

It strikes him that it’s funny how hard old habits die, even when there isn’t any point in killing or being on guard. At least, not yet. So, he takes a stab at the truth.

“Last time I sat next to a man from your country, it was with intent to kill him.”

The ice in the glass of umeshu cracks.

[koukeiri-blog]

kavachas replied to your post: well, hey kids;  you know the drill. i thought i...

“No dying, we become Heroes of Justice like men.”

[koukeiri-blog]

well, hey kids;  you know the drill. i thought i would toss this up before i head to bed like the old man i am. if you’d like a starter please like this post. no cap because i’m not sure how much interest there would even be and we die like men.

[koukeiri-blog]

maiya google search how not to get owned by my wife

[koukeiri-blog]

gay

THANKS

[koukeiri-blog]

text

text 

text

text