His class depends on which Fugo you get. If we’re talking VA timeline, he’s gonna be a Berserker. If we’re talking PHF, I definitely see him as an Assassin (think Jack the Ripper’s mist!) 

“My wish?” Fugo seems to consider your words for a long time, but you know by the sad glint in his eyes that he’s not thinking, more like recalling sad memories. “I ... would have gotten on the boat.” 

You don’t press him anymore, you already know just from dreaming about his memories. 

Fugo will insist that you don’t stick close to him when he fights mostly because he’s worried about you getting into Purple Haze’s range. 

He’s the more aloof type of servant but as you continue to go through the Holy Grail War, he might warm up to you. 

He’s definitely smarter than most Berserkers, in that he can hold a proper conversation with you. His Madness Enhancement enhances his bouts of uncontrollable rage though. 

When you’re not fighting, he likes to spend his time reading or even just scoping out the battlefield, helping you out with whatever strategy you want to go with, even teaching you a few things he knows. 

He gets really flustered when people think you’re romantically linked, he’s never really had time for such things when he was alive. 

If you do end up warming up to him, he gets super protective of you. He’ll go as far as to tell you that he’s fine with his wish not being granted, just as long as you remain safe. 

  “We can’t afford to be late, Leo-” The rest of your sentence was stolen from you by his passionate kiss. His tongue explored your mouth as his deft fingers plunged into your wanting sex. You tightened around his fingers, enjoying the moans it elicited from him. He pushed them in deeper, filling you with the most intense pleasure that you nearly forgot your surroundings. Your body burned, it ached for him and you wanted nothing more than to be stripped bare in front of him. You wanted to feel his hard body pressed against yours. As if he could read your mind he began to work on your blouse.

  “Not here, someone is sure to see us.” You grabbed his hand to stop him, chastising yourself for your one moment of reason.

  “If they see us then doesn’t mean they’ll stop talking as if they can easily take me from you?” Leonardo’s devilish grin grew as he stared into your eyes. 

  “I somehow think those rumors would be worse.”

  “Are you telling me that you don’t want to hear about how someone happened upon two compagnos in the middle of their passionate tryst? About how lovely your moans were as I devoured you so completely?” Leonardo pulled away from you only to get on his knees. He lifted your skirt and placed your leg on his shoulder. You heard him tear your panties off but had no time to reprimand him because it wasn’t long before his face was nuzzled between your legs. His tongue teasing your entrance with slow strokes. You bucked your hips against him eliciting a chuckle. His hands reached behind you, grasping your ass as he pushed his tongue past your silken folds. You covered your mouth as you struggled to keep your moans to yourself. He knew just how to unravel you, how to make you lose all sense of reason. You felt his lips wrap around your clit as he started to suck on it. You felt the mixture of his saliva and your juices slide down your bare thighs.

“Leo…more.” You no longer cared if an audience formed. You didn’t care about the rumors that would eventually spread around town about how the genius inventor and craftsman took his compagna in an alleyway in the middle of the afternoon. You didn’t care if the whole town heard your screams while he ate you as if you were his last meal.

  Leonardo slipped in a couple of fingers as he sucked on you. The more you cried out the deeper he went. He found your spot and he teased it as much as he could. The harder he pressed against it the louder you became. He always loved how melodious your moans were. You were blinded by passion only wanting to feel him inside you. Your body shook as you teetered on the edge of release. You pulled him in closer, the tears streamed down your face as you begged him to let you come.

  “What happened to my shy, compagna?” Leonardo chuckled as he started to stand up.

  “Why are you stopping?” You pouted as if you were a child that had had their favorite toy taken from them. 

  “Who said I was stopping?” Leonardo unfastened his belt and undid his pants. “Promise me you’ll no longer let everyone’s careless whispers get to you.” Leonardo reached up and caressed your cheek gently before pressing himself against you once more. “I want nothing more than to see your beautiful smile when you’re on my arm as we walk through town.” Within moments his teeth were scraping along the column of your neck as he lifted your skirt, exposing you to the cool afternoon air. Your arms wrapped around him as he pushed himself past your wanting sex. You threw your head back as he plunged in deeper. Your nails bit into his back as he bit down on your neck, careful not to let the beast out. 

  You felt the flames of passion stoked by each one of his thrusts. You trembled in his arms as your body gave way to your orgasms. You could barely stand but you didn’t want him to stop. The intense sensation teetered between intoxicating and almost unbearable. He took one of your breasts in his mouth as he enjoyed the feeling of your walls tightening around his shaft as you came once more. You heard his low moan as he began to empty himself in you. Neither of you wanted to pull away but you knew you the longer you stayed the harder it would’ve been. 

  Leonardo kissed his way up to your lips, buttoning up your blouse as he did so. He rolled his hips against yours once more before begrudgingly pulling out. The sudden emptiness made you let out a small whimper that made him smile. “You’re so beautiful when you’re this wanting.” Leonardo began to do up his pants when you had stopped him.

  “I think I should clean up this mess.” You ran your finger over his length, eliciting a shudder. 

  “Cara mia, you’re insatiable today.”

“Master.”

You turned your head to meet Karna’s inquisitive gaze. The Hero of Charity, as you found, had no qualms about granting favors, but had plenty of reservation when he was about to ask for one. “Yes?” You smiled at him, an encouragement, but you noted the tensed anxiety in his shoulders. His posture was a bit too erect than usual and you somehow felt he would not be making a big deal out of this favor.

“I was enjoying the company of Caster, Andersen,” Karna started, his voice clipped and direct. You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that the two of them talked civilly when he continued: “And I was informed that the sun was a star.”

“Well… Yes.” A ball of gas to be precise, but you decided against informing him of that fact. Lancer had come from a time where every supernatural phenomenon could be explained away by the phrase ‘it was done by the gods’. Even if he did come with knowledge about the modern world, the subject of the sun and stars hit too close to home for him.

“Am I to understand that one day the sun will blink out of existence?”

Ah, you thought. The plot emerges.

“You’re thinking about your father?”

He shook his head. “When I was slain by an arrow, I returned to my father. This is where my Divinity comes from. Should the sun god lose his power then his progeny’s fate will be no better. Should that happen, Master,” his eyes, sharp, piercing and so blue, bore into yours. The vulnerability he induced used to make you shrink, but not now.

“Should I cease to be a lance at your disposal, I worry about you, Master.”

You stared at him for a moment and then a grin threatened to split your face. Karna towered over you by at least a head, but you reached out to him easily. The skin of his cheek was warm and you reveled in its comfort.

“You think too lightly of yourself. The Hero of Charity never denies a request.

If the sun loses its power then I’ll call onto you as many times as I need. The Hero Karna would never be able to ignore that right?”

The cocksure grin you had on your face was wiped off when he wrapped his arms around you, pressing your face to his chest and the jewels pressing uncomfortably against your temple.

“Apologies, Master. I shan’t entertain such thoughts anymore.”

His voice was warm, welcoming and comforting. You knew, even if the sun blinked out, this warmth would never grow cold.

~~~~~~~

Mozart took to the stage and bowed to the audience. Like before, his performances drew the attention of people. Perhaps Salieri had been right; he was favored by God to grant gift to people. The taste of coffee lingered in his mouth and he turned to the full orchestra that awaited his instruction. As much as he enjoyed playing the piano, he took to conducting easily and chose to pursue it for this life.

A letter peeked from his breast pocket, where the violet was pinned at. He raised his hands and the orchestra played. The song was vivacious, loud, and lively and Mozart conducted with much gusto and energy before it gradually became slower, emphasizing the sound of the violins and the harp, like a song for midnight rendezvous. Then it rose higher and higher, until it reached a fever pitch, filling the entire auditorium with the blaring sound of his indignation at failing to protect her. The song tapered off once more; this time it would not rise again.

The song's name?

Nora.

Dearest Wolf,

This letter is an insurance. Something I feel like I should make knowing how limited our time is. I don't want to think about the future, but at this point in time, I know I should.

First! I love you. I love your smile, the way you carry yourself and the way you decided to choose loving me. I used to think that I was just someone who happened to be displaced in time, but that would be an insult to your feelings towards me. So I've decided to love you, bearing everything that entails.

Second, never doubt your music. That actually goes without saying, but I wanted to say it anyway. I know you know how good you are and that your skill has hurt you countless times, but you have to understand how much your creations altered the world that I know. You've made things good and bright and colorful and exciting. Please keep making music, not for my sake, but for yours. Above all else, your music should be for you. I might be thinking too much of you, but that's exactly how I feel and I'm not backing down!

Third, I want you to enjoy the coming years. You're a timeless vampire who'll live on for quite some time, so I want you to live for yourself. It's a selfish request, but I'd really appreciate it if you made yourself happy. The 21st century has a lot to offer: concerts, chocolates, coffee and technology! I'm sure you'll find things that will take you on a new adventure.

It breaks my heart to write this letter, more than the thought that I'll be leaving you. But you know Wolf? Being by your side was more than enough.

Until we meet again, meine liebe.

Yours always,

Nora

-----------------------------------------------------

Vincent sat in front of his easel, pensive. The painting was a bit too bright, a bit too sunny and with too much yellow. His muse was not even here, and it was already too cheery even for him. Theo usually allows some form of restraint when it comes to warm or dark colors, without sacrificing his artistic liberties. The door of his room opened and Theo strode in, holding a vial of Blanc.

"Ah Theo. Good morning," Vincent smiled. "It's a lovely day, don't you think?"

"Yeah..." Theo's reply was dispassionate, like it usually was. Vincent found that it was better to leave his brother in his somber self. "Here's some Blanc, Vincent."

"Thank you," he gestured to his painting. "So, what do you think? Isn't it too bright?"

Theo glanced at the easel, heart tightening. It had been a month and his brother showed no signs of change or recognition.

Or perhaps Vincent knew but refused to acknowledge the truth.

"Theo?"

He snapped back to reality. In the canvas was painted in all manners of yellows and oranges, with the middle left blank for the person Vincent wanted to paint the most. For the past month, his brother had been painting the exact same portrait: hues of yellow and orange framing a blank canvas where someone should be. At this point, Theo was just waiting for his brother to use up all of the bright and cheery paint he had. But to be honest, he had no idea what to do afterwards.

"I'm excited to see her again. She said she'd be back tomorrow," Vincent said with a chuckle. "Say Theo, do you mind if I keep this painting? I really don't want you to sell any paintings of her."

"Yeah sure..." he answered flippantly. "Maybe you should add a bit more blue to contrast. That'll look like an eyesore before long." He had no idea if contradicting Vincent would work, but he wanted to try.

"Hmmmm... I guess you're right. That would make her stand out some more."

Theo nodded and left, wondering if playing into his brother's fantasy was an act of mercy or an unnecessary cruelty.

She died a month ago from a vampire attack. They buried her in the mansion grounds with a single tombstone to remember her by. Vincent had been there with them, but the next day he had acted like nothing changed.

Like she was still returning to the mansion as planned.

My dearest Vincent,

I'm really eager to get back home and see you. 19th century Paris is nice but nothing beats the view of the garden from your bedroom window.

Thanks for letting me go on this tour, by the way. I know you didn't like me going off on my own, so I really appreciate you letting me go here. Maybe next time you'll come join me? I can already see the fun things we can do.

Oh and as promised! I'll let you paint a portrait of me. Should we go out on a picnic? Or just go to the gardens? I guess we can talk about it once we're together again.

I miss you, Vincent. And I can't wait to see you tomorrow.

I love you.