Work Text:
Chaldea wasn’t nearly as fun as Ur-Nungal had envisioned it’d be.
Sure, they had the rayshift, they had Events, and the place was brimming with Servants of all backgrounds and origins, the company of some of them Ur found he actually enjoyed—either because he could annoy them to the point of watching them crumble into trembling rage or because they really had interesting myths and experiences to share about themselves.
But in the end, Chaldea was just a glorified laboratory placed in the middle of a wasteland in perpetual winter, one that very soon was going to be dismantled by the very same association of mages that helped to create it, and there's only so many things to do after things started to become… well, same-y. Ur-Nungal has heard many tales of Servants willingly burning themselves only to reappear a few weeks later because the boredom had literally killed them. Others came up with all sorts of Events all the time to cope with the lack of excitement, and some others just spent their days away training or helping the staff with menial tasks to fill in the blanks in their free time.
Said like this it could almost seem as though conviviality in Chaldea was a nightmare or not worth the trouble of being summoned at all, which was far from it; the thing is that the lack of things to do when there were no missions or Pseudo-Singularities or Events in sight got a little despairing sometimes—and this was further worsened by the fact Ur-Nungal just can’t afford to stay still for even a second.
Ur-Nungal already knows what working in a laboratory under the orders of a stressed workaholic was like, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to experience that all over again, so for the most part he keeps himself away from the Chaldean staff and tries to find joy in the little things Chaldea has given him instead, such as this beautiful second chance at living, the soul of his long-lost mother (one who looks a little too close to him in age, but still), pushing BB around until her face goes as purple as her hair, affectionately berating the white-haired Archer with the red clothes until he gave him scraps of cake, playing games with child Gilgamesh, teaming up with Enkidu to strap Ishtar with duct tape to the ceiling, so on so forth.
But his most favorite activity to chase boredom away, Ur-Nungal thinks to himself, is bullying his father—Ur draws the line with Ko-Gil, of course, but any adult incarnation of Gilgamesh was fair game for him; he found each and every last one of them as equally insufferable, so he doesn’t feel bad about annoying them.
Anyone who knew Ur-Nungal would know that he always plays favorites, and when it comes to the very noble art of pestering people, Archer Gilgamesh is by far his favorite—annoying Caster was fun as well, but it got tiring a little too fast for Ur’s liking. Maybe, Ur-Nungal thinks, it’s because Caster already knows how to deal with him, although there’s no reason this should really affect his younger self since Archer Gilgamesh was still Gilgamesh… although then again, it’s true that Ur-Nungal’s chaotic involvement with the timeline might have had something to do with this peculiar case of amnesia…
Another option Ur considers when wondering what made Archer Gilgamesh so special to his eyes is that his father’s younger version is… well, younger. Very close to him in age as well in fact, just as this digital version of his mother that he’s found here.
This is probably the kind of thing Ur-Nungal shouldn’t feel proud of, but finding ways to bother his father is a skill he’s been farming since he was very little, and he’s farmed it so hard that even Archer Gilgamesh’s hate club in Chaldea considers him an honorary collaborator. The thing is… berating Caster is no longer as funny as it used to be when they were both alive. Caster Gilgamesh still got annoyed with Ur and his pranks, yes, and he oftentimes yelled and threw things at him because of that. However… it just came out as this tired, fond kind of annoyance—and it didn’t help the fact Caster already saw him coming from miles away, which really thwarted most if not all of Ur-Nungal’s pranks and took away a lot of the fun and excitement.
This wasn’t the case with Archer Gilgamesh, however. When it came to annoying Archer, Ur-Nungal could trust he would make his dissatisfaction known in the most disproportionate, immature way possible, and that in itself is such a well of fun.
Which brings him to this peculiar situation.
In his defense, if anyone ever tries to prosecute him for this, Ur-Nungal will say he did nothing wrong; it’s not his fault, after all, that Archer Gilgamesh looked so deceivingly peaceful and helpless when he slept. It was almost unbelievable: Even Ur-Nungal had trouble processing the fact that the man who terrorized Artoria on that timeline is really the same person Ur-Nungal is currently watching sleep, clutching a big lion plushie to his chest while he mutters nonsense words in his sleep. You'd never assume it, not even for a second—and if you hadn't already known how much of a sadist this man truly is, you wouldn't be able to ever tell.
…And that was just a little frightening, come to think of it. All evil people looked hideous in fairytales—what happened to all that now? Gilgamesh was a piece of shit, and yet he was just as beautiful as he was an asshole. How many people has his father tricked with his god-like beauty? It was already bad enough that Hakuno Kishinami got herself involved with him because of it, there was no need for anyone else to make the same mistake again. Surely Ur-Nungal had to do something about this, he had to warn people before they could make the same mistake of coming closer to him and then get hurt… but what could be done?
The presence of Caster Gilgamesh doesn’t help with this in the slightest. In fact, most of the people here who were already familiarized with Archer Gilgamesh to some extent were shocked to find out just how laidback and surprisingly… sensible, if you could believe it, Caster Gilgamesh was. At least in comparison to Archer, that is. The blue-haired celt Lancer for certain couldn’t believe it, and even Emiya and Artoria had to concede that Caster’s existence was somewhat bearable.
No one could believe the walking terror in the golden armor and the sleep-deprived guy with the feathers on his ass were indeed one and the same, and Ur-Nungal knows for a fact that Caster’s more easy-going demeanor has tricked some people into trying to engage in conversation with Archer as well… and nothing good came out of that most of the time. Of course, the fact they are pretty much clones of each other as far as looks were concerned doesn’t help to tell them apart, further increasing Gilgamesh’s victim toll.
Maybe his fathers should wear signs around their necks to help people tell them apart and warn them about who exactly they're dealing with before it's too late. Caster could wear one saying ‘I’ve not had eight hours of consecutive sleep in four thousand years’, ‘don’t give me coffee after 8 pm’ or ‘I’m not dead, just sleeping’. Archer on the other hand could have one saying 'I'm as ugly on the inside as I am handsome on the outside', ‘touch me and I’ll stab you’, or 'I'm more tsun-tsun than dere-dere'. Or maybe even, mused a very bored Ur-Nungal, something nice and simple like 'caution: I’m an asshole’. That way people wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking they were speaking with the wrong version of them. Even better yet, a warning sign like that could completely keep people from interacting with Gilgamesh in the first place.
…
…Actually, that was a very good idea! If Gilgamesh came with a warning label, like those you see on medicine prescriptions or bottles of poison, then fewer people would mistake one for the other, thus the fewer people would be fooled by their beauty, and so fewer people would run the risk of tripping their terrible temper. Just imagine how many lives could be saved if somebody with enough forward thinking and a complete lack of self-preservation did something like that…!
Right. His heart was settled.
Ur-Nungal needed a marker pen. Caster could wait until later; right now he had the Archer version of his father unconscious and unable to stop him. Ur-Nungal is so determined to see through this mission that he doesn't even care if no one in Chaldea will thank him for his selfless act of martyrdom. After all, it's a well-known fact that all good superheroes have to keep their true identity a secret. Ur-Nungal would conceal himself in the shadows and write on the faces of cruel villains while they slept until the world became a better place for humans!
The honey-blond looked around his dad’s grandiose bedroom in search for a pen. Ur-Nungal could have taken one from his father’s gates given the fact he has access to them, but he usually doesn’t like to use them that much; Ur might be a proud thief, but he preferred to use his own cheats to win fights, and the Gates of Babylon already had an owner. Instead, Ur started inspecting Caster’s working desk, even looking inside the closets and every other cupboard he could find in case his father kept the writing utensils stored somewhere else, until he eventually was able to find a magic marker inside a cupboard where Caster was storing a dozen half-finished pens and a lone blister of Ibuprofen.
However, halfway through it and just when he was about to start making art, Ur-Nungal realized he really didn’t have anything else to make a warning sign with. Usually, you would need a sheet of paper or a cardboard for that, but Lancer had nothing…
Ah… what to do, what to do…?
…Well. On second thought, that didn't matter much though, did it? Gilgamesh and his enormous forehead could perfectly make up for the lack of paper. At the end of the day, it didn’t make much of a difference. Nothing would stop Ur-Nungal in his crusade for embarrassing his father to the point of making him consider using Ea on him; Ur-Nungal had to save lives—sure, he wasn't sure whose lives, exactly, he was saving by doodling on his sleeping father's face, but he was definitely saving some lives.
Humming a nonsense tune to himself, Ur-Nungal sat himself on top of Archer and uncapped the magic marker. He tried to be as quick as he could, though—Gilgamesh was a fast sleeper, but that didn’t mean he was completely unresponsive; and if by some chance Archer Gilgamesh were to wake up now, Ur-Nungal would have to explain why exactly he was sat on top of him, and why exactly he was holding a magic marker, and why exactly he was grinning such a creepy, evil grin- and, of course, nothing good would come of that.
Bearing that thought in mind, the happily smiling Ur-Nungal pressed the tip of the magic marker against Gilgamesh’s face and began to write–and as it turns out, Ur didn’t have to worry about a lack of inspiration because he soon found he couldn't stop as ideas started pouring in one after another.
His hands wouldn't stop writing. The temptation was too much!
He simply had to add a pair of glasses over his eyes and a false mustache, too—and that wasn’t the end of it, oh no: after that, Ur-Nungal just kept adding things. He started with a few nonsense words written in Sumerian, then followed with silly things and catchphrases like ‘King of Assholes’ or ‘tsun-tsun’ written messily on one of his cheeks, and he even doodled a dish of mapo tofu and a funny-looking goose with the same spiky hair and tacky earrings his Archer dad wears, right next to a speech balloon that said ‘yorokobe sazsshu’.
However, Ur-Nungal couldn’t help but feel there was something missing in his magnum opus…
The boy frowned as he looked at his unfinished masterpiece, wondering what else he could add to his father’s face, until inspiration suddenly came back to him in a world-shattering epiphany that forced him to stop doodling altogether and think.
Ur-Nungal’s mouth opened to form a small ‘o’, eyes widening as a terrible idea came to mind—although it didn’t take long for his awed expression to be replaced with a very wide, almost evil grin.
…Of course! La touché finale! How could Ur-Nungal have forgotten about such a crucial addition? If you write on someone’s face, this is the first thing that should come to mind!
It might be a bit too cliché, yes, maybe even a little tasteless, but if you were going to do something, you had to do it properly!
His dad would understand. Ur-Nungal is sure of it.
…Probably.
It was a slow morning at Chaldea—which is to say, it was exactly like every other day. Though Chaldea wasn’t about to run out of Servants any time soon, it’s been weeks since the last time new ones were summoned—and well, one would think that with the sudden proliferation of Pseudo-Singularities, that that would inspire more into coming home, but for the most part the staff was busy tending to other things and things were kept peaceful.
This, in turn, meant that the Chaldea’s single Master, Ritsuka Fujimaru aka ‘Gudako’ for friends and pretty much everyone else there, had a lot of downtime on her hands.
She was currently walking down the hallways without a clear destination and wondering what she could do to amuse herself. She could always take the rayshift and go shopping with Medb and Ishtar, or she could bribe Hans into giving her a few spoilers of his latest novel. Gudako could also drop by Da Vinci’s workshop and ask her how things are going so far, or could always try to kill some time and play cards with Ko-Gil and Enkidu.
At times like these was when Gudako understood why so many Servants came up with so many elaborate Events all the damn time; if they didn’t have any, they would have probably died out of boredom! Like, there isn’t a lot to do here, when you really think about it; the middle of winter tundra at the top of some random mountain wasn’t really the best place one would think to go on vacation, and if it wasn’t for the rayshift they’d be shit out of luck. Some special sections have been developed within Chaldea to both provide sustainment and means of amusement until the Mages Association decided to put an end to their project, such as gardens and hibernacles for harvest, but that’s pretty much it.
As Gudako was about to turn around a corner, and lost in thoughts as she was, she completely missed the gold-and-red blur running toward her direction faster than anything had a right to. Before she could react, it slammed right into her chest and they both stumbled with equal yelps of alarm. In fact, they would have fallen had Gudako’s quick instincts not saved them from a rather unfortunate and embarrassing landing.
“Woah, woah, woah! Hey, Gil II, what the hell just got into you? You almost ran me over!”
The speedy blur of gold and red that had almost knocked her in his desperate escape was none other than Ur-Nungal, Gilgamesh’s only son (at least for now, or that they knew of). He had something of a frantic look on his face, and was constantly looking behind him as if he was running away from something or someone. He was also holding something in his hand, but Gudako didn’t have the time to catch a good look at it.
Before Gudako could open her mouth to ask him what had him so distraught, Ur-Nungal grabbed both of her shoulders and gave her a hard shake, panting, “Gudako—thank the gods, just the foolish Master I was in need for.”
“Uh…” Gudako gave him an unsure look. “Really?”
Ur-Nungal gave her a frantic nod of his head. “Listen, I don’t have much time to explain,” he blurted out; he was speaking so fast Gudako was having a hard time understanding him. “I need you to do something for me. Do you think you shall be able to fulfill this very important task?”
Once again, Gudako regards him with a skeptical look. Something about his fidgety demeanor told the redhead that he was up to no good—they’ve only had Ur-Nungal for half a year and already he’s caused more trouble than problems he’s managed to solve, and Gudako knew very well by now to know that seeing Ur-Nungal running away from anything was more often than not a sign of bad luck: basically the Servant equivalent of crossing paths with a black cat.
However…
“Well, yeah? I mean—how difficult a task could it be, right?” And then, little by little Gudako started growing more confident about herself. “Yeah, I can totally help you out!”
Ur-Nungal gave out a sigh of relief. “I am ever so glad you’ve said so—I knew you were someone I could trust,” the Lancer Servant said. “First of all, and this is very important, I need you to go back to my room—don’t worry, it’ll be unlocked for you, I already made sure it was.”
Gudako squinted at him, confused but willing to give it a try. This wouldn’t be the weirdest thing she’s been asked to do from a Servant. “Uh… okay? You’re not making any sense at all but I’m listening. And then what?”
“Right—listen carefully now, Ritsuka: the pride of Uruk’s sixth king is in your capable hands,. I need you to go to my room and boot my computer—”
“Uh-huh.”
“—and once there, you have to do the following: go to start menu and type 'Control Panel'.”
“M’kay.”
“…once there choose ‘Programs and Features’.”
“Mhm-hm.”
“Then scroll through the list, until you find something that reads 'League of Legends'. Here’s what you have to do: I want you to right click on it and uninstall it.”
Silence followed.
Gudako blinked owlishly at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
Ur-Nungal looks distressed. “Look—it’s one thing being remembered as a thief and an asshole, but it’s another to go down in history as a sweaty PC gamer. Please, Gudako, you’re the only person I can entrust this to before it's too late,” Ur-Nungal pleaded, and taking her hands in his he placed the object he was holding on her outstretched palm.
Gudako stares at the object with a confused look.
A… magic marker?
Why would Ur-Nungal give her a magic marker for? What does that even have anything to do with his computer games at all…?
But before Gudako could ask, Ur-Nungal leaned in and kissed her forehead, cupping her head in both hands—an innocuous gesture for certain, nothing out of the ordinary, but it was enough to make her flush in embarrassed shame like a complete idiot.
“Thank you, Master,” he said earnestly, or at least Gudako thought he was, wide and starry-eyed with a smile as white and wide as a crescent moon—before suddenly leaning into her ear and whispering, “now make me proud.”
And shoved her out of the way.
Gudako only had enough time to yelp before Ur-Nungal sprinted away, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the corridor and holding a magic marker with a befuddled expression on her face.
Gudako squinted at him as she watched him run away, then sighed tiredly. Shitty little Sumerians. One of these days they were going to be the end of her, she swears.
“Well… that was interesting, I guess. Still…” Gudako brings up the magic pen to examine it up close, frowning. “...What the hell am I even supposed to do with this thing now, though? Like, what was even the point?”
“Ritsuka, look out!”
Behind Gudako, a commotion seemed to be taking place. All around her, staff and Servants alike start to part like the waves of the black sea. She hears a distant clank-clank-clank sound, and it’s only getting closer and closer. It’s a sound that seems familiar—like metal hitting metal.
However, before she can have more time to wonder what’s going on, Gudako notices there’s a shadow behind her, taller than her and blotting the artificial lights over her head.
Oh, no.
When Gudako turned, she found herself staring at two very long legs clad in gaudy-looking armor. And over that…
Red eyes.
Golden hair.
And a very wide smirk.
Gudako stared at a very pissed-off looking Archer Gilgamesh with wide, unblinking eyes like she was a deer in front of headlights.
She then shifted her focus on the magic pen, and then stared back at Gilgamesh again.
It took Gudako more time than she was willing to admit to realize Archer had all sorts of scribbles all over his face—and it wasn’t as if they were faint, oh, no, no; they were very obvious. As it seemed, someone’s gone through the effort of drawing a dalí-esque mustache on his face, along with a pair of glasses and a few sentences on cuneiform Gudako couldn’t begin to guess the meaning of. But that wasn’t what had Gudako’s rapt attention at all.
Was… was that…
Were the artificial lights overhead playing tricks on her or… there, drawn on Archer’s forehead…
Oh, boy.
Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, Gudako could only stare up at Archer Gilgamesh with a mixture of wonder and fear, trying her hardest not to say a damn word (and much less smile) because she knows the moment she tried to speak she will crumble and start laughing—and nothing good will come out of it.
Despite the fact Gilgamesh was smiling at her with all his teeth, the golden Servant didn’t seem like he was willing to appreciate the humor in this situation, though. His red eyes were glowing in a menacing shade of crimson, he had a very displeased scowl on his face and was grasping Ea with a trembling hand. His face was as red as his eyes with all the intensity of his indignity, looking eerily gloomy beneath the harsh artificial lighting overhead.
It was also around that time that Gudako realized she was standing before a clearly murderous Gilgamesh while holding this crime’s weapon; Ur-Nungal’s black magic pen.
Unable to come up with anything smarter than squeaking, and afraid that she will start laughing as soon as she tries to open her mouth to form a sentence, a single tear rolls down Gudako’s cheek.
At a later—much later—time, one Archer Gilgamesh was sitting in front of a vanity with his arms crossed over his chest, and still looking rather pissed off and very much still intent on showing his dissatisfaction to anyone in sight in the most disproportionate manner possible. His face was still red, though—red as the swirling patterns he had tattooed on his skin, although whether that was because of his annoyance or due to her own insistent scrubbing on his face, Hakuno couldn’t quite tell.
She was likewise sitting in front of the vanity, on another chair by his left side, and was currently trying to get as much of that black ink off his face as she could, swiping a dab of cotton drenched in alcohol over the reddening skin—Hakuno wasn’t sure what Ur-Nungal had used to scribble all of that on his face, but it had to be the best magic pen to have ever existed; she’s been scrubbing Archer’s face for what felt like hours already, and she’s only been successful in cleaning just the left side of his face. She's starting to suspect the magic marker wasn't even manmade at all.
Hakuno has only heard the story of what’s happened in pieces; Gil was too pissed off to think straight, and when she asked him what the hell happened to his face he only afforded to say ‘the damned brat snuck into my bedchambers and did this to me while I was asleep! Taking advantage of a fallen man, like mongrels do!’, but even if Hakuno didn’t have all the details to form a bigger, more coherent picture it was safe to assume this was most likely another one of Ur-Nungal’s infamous pranks again.
Gil should really know better than to leave the door to the bedroom unlocked, though; at this point, after the time their son tried to spoon feed him some mapo tofu while he was asleep, one would think Archer had learned the lesson—but it seems he just hadn’t.
Gilgamesh has been strangely silent since Hakuno started trying to clean his face with nothing than a few dabs of cotton, alcohol and soap, and Hakuno has not tried to force a conversation, either, diligently working in silence—mainly because she knew herself well enough that if she tried to speak, only peals of laughter would come out of her mouth.
It was already hard enough to keep a poker face in front of His Very Infuriated Majesty, imagine if on top of that she had to force herself to speak about it.
It was… well, it was a ridiculous and extremely funny sight, really. It was so hilarious and so childish that Hakuno couldn’t really believe what she was seeing—but it was real, and it was right in front of her eyes.
The big, scary King of Heroes, Uruk’s unfeeling tyrant—outsmarted by someone a few years younger than him, wearing his face full of silly scribbles because of it. Ur-Nungal had drawn some stupid things on his face such as a swirly mustache and a round pair of glasses over his eyes, but he hadn’t stopped there; on the left side of his face he had also drawn a goose wearing the same spiky hair and the same tacky lock earrings Archer Gilgamesh wore on a normal basis, holding what seemed to be a poorly-drawn approximation of Ea on its beak. He had also drawn a tiny Berserkidu by its side, then a dish of what seemed like mapo tofu and a dialogue bubble that said ‘rejoice, mongrel’, and there were a few more scribbles written in messy cuneiform from which Hakuno could only roughly translate a few of them. There was one on the other side of his face that simply said ‘king of assholes’.
And of course, how to forget about the centerpiece of her son’s masterpiece—obscene and poorly drawn as the rest of the things he’s drawn on his face, but still anyone could tell what was drawn on Archer’s forehead even from afar.
Hakuno really likes the ironic simplicity of it.
Every now and again, Hakuno tried to steal glances at Gilgamesh as she silently worked on wiping the rest of the drawings and characters he had on his face. On the one hand she’s really, really trying her best not to make this situation be any more embarrassing than it must probably be for him, but on the other hand, Hakuno couldn’t really help but stare at him.
She wondered if Archer will give her too much grief if she teases him about it. After all, it only seems fair; Hakuno still owed him for the one day he gave her that potion that numbed her tongue in the guise of wine. The brunette remembers Gilgamesh laughing about it for one day straight, non-stop, and though Hakuno tried to one-up him time and time again after that she never really managed to make things even between the two of them in the pranking department. This comes a little close.
“…Come now, go ahead and say it,” Gilgamesh seethed quietly, wincing as Hakuno swabbed the cotton a little too harshly for his liking—she had no other choice; that damned waterproof marker was incredibly difficult to remove. “If you have something to say, Hakuno, now’s the time to make your thoughts known.”
Hakuno stopped for a moment, pushing the chair closer so that she could get a better look at him. “Uh… well, all things considered, Ur-Nungal really has an excellent gift for drawing, doesn’t he? Maybe we should encourage his artistic side more often.”
“Hakuno.”
Hakuno sighed, then tilted her head to the side as she studied his features a little more closely, noticing Gilgamesh was giving her one of his signature pouting glares—and at that moment, as she meets his sullen, annoyed stare, Hakuno can’t help it.
She starts laughing. It starts as a quiet chuckle, then turns into a fit of giggles, until it finally blossoms into full-blown laughter.
With a huff, Archer goes back to glaring and turns his head away from her, petulant as ever. Having none of it, Hakuno reaches forward and cups his face with her hands, forcing him to look her way.
“I’m sorry Gil, I really don’t mean to laugh at you,” she says, still chuckling quietly and not sounding like she’s really sorry at all, which makes Gilgamesh huff again, “I just—pffft—”
“I don’t see the humor in this childish act at all,” he grumbled. “He is the crown prince of Uruk, yet the way he conducts himself is that of a five-year-old. It’s unbecoming! What kind of self-respecting man who strives to be the king of an illustrious city such as Uruk dares to show his father such insolence? I, for certain, wouldn’t have raised a brat as impudent as him!”
“Oh, come now, Gil—chin up! It was just a joke. Besides, we’re getting rid of the evidence before Enkidu gets to see it, too!” But noticing this had done little to improve Archer’s sullen mood, Hakuno quickly adds, “And if it’s reassuring in any way, that huge, offensive dick on your forehead has not made me think any less of you,” before planting a loving kiss on the cheek she’s been able to clean.
Gilgamesh’s ensuing aggravated noise of discontent makes Hakuno laugh again, this time harder.