#ultrakill fanfic

[cosmicalbot]

NEW DIRECTIVE [ ULTRAKILL AU ]

GOD IS GONE. ICHOR IS FUEL. HELL IS HOME. >> NEW DIRECTIVE: EXPLORE HELL.

Hello again folks !! It's me, Kas Cosmicalbot, here to make a new and improved guide to my ULTRAKILL AU: New Directive !!

SUMMARY: Despite V1's rampage, Hell has remained stable, letting husks, demons, and machines to thrive in a new ecosystem. Gabriel doesn't die upon the loss of the Light, and grants V1 life by providing it his blood. With no reason to fight to live, V1 uses this opportunity to explore Hell, learn about anything it desires, and spend its free time doing whatever the hell (hah) it wants.

READ THE AO3 SERIES HERE :D

New Directive is made up of a bunch of separate fics and you don't have to read all of them !! You can see all of my posts about it under #new directive au and the fic links are under #new directive fic

More details under the cut ;) I will be updating these as I think of more btw !!!!

MAJOR DETAILS

Hell doesn't collapse. Because Hell is essentially a living being, it's able to use its energy to reanimate the dead bodies of husks and create more demons from the remnants of the destroyed ones. The exist in a a smaller quantity now, but enough to keep an stable ecosystem alive.

Gabriel doesn't die after being stripped of God's Light. After he kills the Council, he throws himself back into Hell to die. But the same energy that Hell uses to reanimate its denizens fills the void left by the Light and Gabriel becomes a fallen angel. He still retains most of his divine traits, perhaps a blessing from the source of his new lifeforce.

V1 gets fuel from Gabriel in exchange for sparring with him. Angelic blood is a lot more potent than standard human blood (it has a bit of godly ichor in it) and tends to last V1 a lot longer since it takes longer to "burn" through. And because Gabriel needs a new purpose now that he's fallen, he asks that V1 spars with him so he can keep his skills sharp (and feel like he's useful in some way).

The surviving machines have built their own little communities in the upper layers. They exist mostly in Limbo and Lust, but can be sparsely found in the lower ones. These communities are fairly small, usually only about 5-7 units in a group. They work together to collect fuel, repair some of the more intact machine bodies, and keep each other safe in their new lives.

MINOR DETAILS that i enjoy a lot

Takes place after Violence and is written pre Fraud (duh)

V1 and V2 are siblings bc I said so (sorry v4v fans)

Angels can change their form at will because they're made of light

Terminals can basically create/manifest any item that a machine might ask from them

V1's wings are made of hard light, protected by a layer of resin, and with a mesh of microscopic sensors that let it store weapons and other items

FUTURE PLANS

Minos and Sisyphus will be included (minophus real)

I plan to bring V2 back bc this is a Happy(ish) AU

And Mirage also (mv2 real)

My OCs will be included eventually bc I love them and need to share them with the world

okay that's all for now go read new directive

[two-dollar-peanut]

hgh here's some stuff from the fic im writing (go read it) bc i have noticed pictures do better on here

please ignore the notebook paper most of these were drawn in my math notebook bc i Did Not want to do math

[mimic1lover]

Golden Wings

"I wish you were here."

Merry Christmas!!

This year was all over the place for me, I'm really happy my au caught some attention and people like my art and Muriel, it does truly mean a lot to me...tho this comic is a bit angst so forgive me by telling you I'll post more happy things later next year MAYBEEE

[WO text]

[fanfiction-fantasies]

HEY ULTRAKILL FANDOM

This idea has been rattling in my brain for days now. Enjoy.

Gabriel x Reader, hurt/no comfort.

An angel, severed from the Creator's light because of a lost battle. Dying slowly, it would only take hours for Gabriel's life to be extinguished. Even so, before heading off to correct his supposed mistake, he seeks out his love, the one that holds his heart so gently. A spirit of a fallen human, one unfairly denied entrance to paradise. Warm and loving and bright, everything an angel should have been, everything he was not any longer.

He see the beloved spirit, waiting for him like always, and he feels his heart ache as he shares the news of his imminent demise. The light has been torn from him, he can't live without it. The burning fury is gone.

Instead, the spirit asks if it can be replaced, even if just for a few moments. If a furnace is still intact, why not simply add a different fuel? Gabriel scoffs, unable to think of such blasphemy, even after everything that has been taken from him.

"Our Lord's light cannot be replaced. I am doomed, love."

"...No. I won't accept that."

"What are you-? What!? No! Don't do that!"

The angel tries to remove their beloved hands from his chest, but their form has already started to shift. White flames slowly envelop the little spirit, blurring the form he loved so much.

"You can't! You- You wretch! Blasphemous being! Let go!"

Insults and anger did nothing to make his beloved stop. The flames burned ever brighter, slowly melting into his chest... until all he could feel was love.

He fell to his knees, sobbing pitifully. He reached, grasping at empty air. His beloved was no longer there. He could feel every ounce of love directed towards him, filling him from his fingertips all the way to his glowing wings.

Warm and loving and bright... everything an angel should have been.

[astray-anomaly]

I was bored and made a Ultrakill Gabriel x Ferryman one shot if anyone cares to read it. The Ultrakill brainrot is getting to me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63510595

Fic text underneath

Gabriel landed on the ferry with a soft thud that made the worn wooden deck creek underneath his feet. He had been granted some free time which he didn’t know what to do with but he somehow ended up in Wrath on the Ferryman’s ship. He did visit often after saving them from the river Styx and grew quite fond of the sinner. However they were nowhere to be seen on the deck where Gabriel was usually greeted by them.

Possibly they were inside taking care of the passengers and the ship or simply just on a break. The Angel made his way inside, out of the pouring rain. He’d wish to shake the water out of his wings but he didn’t dare want to ruin the interior of the vessel which the Ferryman did so hard to keep comfortable for the souls aboard. Gabriel truly admired how kind they were despite being a sinner, he wished he could have some more of that himself as he lost his temper too quickly at times.

He dissipated his wings and walked through the corridors of the ship in hopes of finding the sinner who cherished him so much. Too much for their own good.

After wandering for minutes between the hallways there was still no sight of the Ferryman, perhaps they were in their cabin after all. He turned on his heel to head back to the direction of their quarters. He found the door cracked open but still knocked politely before opening it. “Charon?”

There was no answer and the husk seemed to be nowhere in the room. Bed and desk were empty, the canvas propped up in their painting corner of their room seemed unfinished. Gabriel stepped closer to the painting and realized it was another one of him. The amount of works the Ferryman made for him were always flattering and impressive.

He hovered his hand over the canvas, looking at the wings that were barely started. Some of the strokes looked harsher like they were a result of frustration. He then noticed the paint palette to the side with various mixes of blues that never seemed to get the shade of his wings just right. The Ferryman was always a perfectionist, especially when it came to making art depicting their savior.

Gabriel’s mind wandered, maybe he could help them with their paintings one day so they could get the color just right. Even if he didn’t care about the details being perfect he didn’t want his friend to stress over such small things. He knew they already had enough on their shoulders for taking the job of ferrying the souls of the damned around.

He turned away from the painting, right, he still needed to find where they were. He was growing worried until he remembered one place he hadn’t checked, his own quarters. The Ferryman had made a room for him a while ago so Gabriel could have longer stays instead of having to fly back to heaven. The room was the biggest the Ferryman could find, akin to their own room.

Gabriel opened the door to his cabin and looked around the room until his eyes settled upon the Ferryman who was sleeping in his bed. It was more like a nest now with all of the pillows and blankets Gabriel piled onto it. Gabriel sighed and approached the nest, looking down at the skeleton resting peacefully. It was hard to tell whenever they were actually asleep so he was careful with his movements so as to not wake them.

Did they really miss him that much to crawl into his bed while he was gone? He was not able to visit for a while. He carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, watching their chest rise and fall with each breath despite the fact their flesh and lungs had long been discarded. He didn’t question the logic of it.

He carefully got up again to take off the pieces of armor which were starting to get uncomfortable. The breastplate and pauldrons were especially the most annoying pieces. But with those parts of his armor finally off he got into the bed next to the Ferryman, letting his body relax into the mattress. It certainly wasn’t as soft as his bed in heaven but it was comfortable nonetheless. He appreciated that despite the scarce materials in Wrath the Ferryman still wished to give Gabriel the best comfort they could.

His head perked up when he heard the husk move in the bed, turning over so their covered face looked at Gabriel. Noticing the ashy dark skin with the white and gold armor. “My light?” Their voice was still heavy with sleep.

“Shhh, you can go back to sleep, my darkness.” He whispered, reaching out and gently rubbing their arm.

“Oh no you should have warned me- I- I should have been there to greet you-” They tried to sit up, looking around the room. “Oh my- I shouldn’t be in your room, I shouldn’t have been resting- I should-”

“Charon.”

They were cut off when Gabriel grabbed their wrists, grip gentle but firm. “Please, do not fret. You can rest here, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber.” He reached up to put a hand on the side of their clothed face. “You deserve a break for all of the work you have done.”

They didn’t resist when Gabriel pulled them back down on the bed. Holding them close so their body was against his, their head resting on his chest. They relaxed at the sound of the angel’s heartbeat while also trying to not panic at how close they were to him. “…Thank you, my light.”

The two held each other close, the Ferryman’s hands unconsciously feeling Gabriel’s skin, making the Angel quietly blush underneath his helmet. Gabriel hugged the Ferryman closer, summoning his wings again which were now dry. Wrapping them around both of them, the soft feathers brushing against the Ferryman’s bones. They looked at the wings in awe every time even if they saw them up close multiple times before.

His wings always reminded them of the sky when they were alive, the blue was so beautiful. Usually the Ferryman hated recalling their memories from earth or even of the times they still had flesh but this, they liked. They could stare into Gabriel’s wings forever, like their own sky. They didn’t need to make it to heaven to truly see it, all their heaven was right here in their arms.

Neither wanted to let go of each other, they didn’t need to speak, they just enjoyed each other’s company until sleep took them both.

Hours later the Ferryman had awoken again, still in Gabriel’s bed but the angel was nowhere to be found. They felt something in their hand and looked down, a blue shiny feather between their boney appendages. If they could physically smile then they would be.

They kept the feather close, this would be the perfect reference for their painting. They could finally get the color right.

Yet they wished that maybe their light could be there for a real reference. It’d be an honor to have Gabriel help with one of their paintings one day.

But for now they had to be patient.

[forestinthewoods]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63993535/chapters/164154136

I cautiously slide my Ultrakill fic into tumblr with the caution of feeding 10 rabid starving dogs

[one-letter-virus]

A showdown cut short

Blacked out for 4 hours and there was suddenly a Gabv1el in my windows notes. Enjoy. Nothing suggestive, fluff, themes of death. No beta we die like the council. ₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

The archangel screamed as he fell.

Screamed as his body suddenly dropped like a rock, and quited as a jagged ice shelf knocked the air out of him on his descent.

His body landed below with an unceremonious thud. He knew it was coming, of course he knew he had limited time. That’s why he was battling the infernal machine, taunting –no, begging- for it to strike all the fire into his dying coil one more time. He wanted to leave on one satisfying final note, a gunshot singing him into the void.

Instead he now laid uselessly in the snow, halo and wings gone along with his power to do anything but wait for it’s vulture and saviour to arrive. Atleast it was quick. Reliable as allways.

Even amidst the howling winds of treachery, the symphony of mechanical clicks and whines was unmistakeable to Gabriel, as it skidded to a sudden halt upon reaching it’s destination, dousing Gabriel in the process with kicked up snow.

Gabriel couldn’t find the energy to even wince at that.

Instead he shifts, trying to find the Machine’s cyclopian gaze, then clings to it as the yellow light of his lighthouse penetrates through the curtain of falling snow.

It wasn’t even pointing any of it’s guns at him. It must have known, that in the flurry of their fight it was not it’s own blow to have felled the angel. Then, it must now know that drawing any weapon was unneceseary. „This is it then.”

He laughs weakly after a pause.

„This is dissapointing for to me too, you know.” He makes an attempt at sitting up, straining all of his quickly dissipating energy to get on all fours. The highest dignity he can offer himself is to stand like an animal. Shakily at that too. How humiliating.

Then, mechanical hands carress and reach under his arms, and the machine gently helps him up into a sit, supporting his weight by letting him lean against it’s frame and holding his head as it rests on one of it’s shoulders.

Gabriel finds himself awing at the springs and joints visible up close at it’s neck, ever so slightly moving even at rest, subtletly he had thought to be only possible to the fully organic. And the machine is deceptively warm too, and Gabriel shivers now that it finally registers how cold he is without his light. He greedily soaks up the warmth now surrounding him, hoping it takes a little while before the machine’s coolers really kick in.

„Thank you Machine.” He sighs.

„For everything. For… opening my eyes and making me feel truly alive, to whatever you are now doing.” Comfort. It was comforting him.

„Hah… what even compells a machine like you to hold an enemy like you do now?”

The machine doesn’t answer. As expected.

„Is there a reason you are denying me answers on my deathbed Machine?”

The Machine still doesn’t answer, but tightens it’s grip on Gabriel. Something clicks in it’s chest. Then it clicks again, and again untill it breaks into a high pitched screech like air forced through pipes. It has to be the most miserable sound Gabriel has heard in a while.

„Stop that insufferable sound you metallic bastard, I’m trying not to go deaf in my last minutes” He huffs, and the high pitched noise stops. The way it’s camera now droops down to the side makes it’s sadness clear. Gabriel reaches out an unsteady hand, cupping it’s camera in it’s palm like a head, gently trailing a thumb across it’s lens.

„You were created voiceless, weren’t you?” He asks as the machine presses it’s camera deeper into his hand. For a war machine, it sure seemed like it could be very affectionate. But then, out of the two of them, it wasn’t the one to deviate most from it’s intended purpose.

It seems to ponder for a moment, then uses one of it’s mismatched hands to point at a small dent in it’s chest. It takes a while for Gabriel to put two and two together.

„Foolish machine. You removed a feature of yourself without realizing the loss. What even prompted you to do such toughtless thing?”

Gabriel hisses as the machine pushes it’s camera suddenly hard enough against his hand that the edges of it’s plating creates a cut, and a few drops of blood trickles out. Normally such minor injury would have closed up again near instantenously, but of course he needs a sweet reminder of his vaning strength.

It points with the clawed red arm at the small wound.

„Huh? Blood? You… removed it for fuel reasons?” He recieves an affirmative nod.

„Was it worth it?” The machine stares at him for a long while then slowly shakes it’s head- really, it’s akwardly gyrating it’s camera from side to side in a deliberate arc.

A painfull flash in his chest causes him to hiss, a reminder of his time coming soon to an end. Thankfully the sensation seems to ebb quickly. Or, he’s simply too distracted now by a machine shoving it’s tubular head into his neck right under his chin. The force behind the aggresive nuzzling is enough to draw a couple of giggles from Gabriel without any edges scraping him. As it finally slots in, Gabriel’s previously outstretched hand falls on the machine’s back, resting between it’s wings.

He decides to gently pet it. The Machine’s wings twitch in response, and it’s hold relaxes then hurriedly tightens again to not loose balance.

Gabriel experimentally moves onto one of the wing blades itself. He hesitates with how close his hand falls to one of the Machine’s stored weaponry. The machine must have been aware how easily he could now grab it and use it's own arsenal against it.

But instead of being issued any warnings, something inside the machine kicks off at the touch, and starts producing a low rumbling, purring sound. It seems to practically melt as he tenderly draws his fingers across it’s magnetic surface.

It’s at the same time that Gabriel feels fascination at experiencing the machine’s anatomy like never possible before, the bittersweet realization that the machine only allows him to handle it’s weapon storage because he’s actively dying and incapable of posing a threat, and the awe over the machine acting in a frankly adorable way at his clumsy petting.

The low rythmic purring continues as the machine moves one of its many arms to reciprocate the gesture. Gabriel’s breath hitches in his throat as fingers graze the exposed skin at his waist, and crawls upwards along his spine in under his armour. He draws the machine even closer as he can feel it’s hand leave to curiously fiddle at straps keeping the piece secured on his body. It’s not like he will ever need it’s hard protection ever again.

Gabriel finds himself wondering for a split second why or how the Machine could possibly do all this for him, and then he quickly finds that it doesn’t matter now, only that it simply does- it couldn’t answer him anyways even if it wanted to.

He lets the pleasant sensation completly wash over his psyche as the machine has finally loosened the piece enough to push it’s blue hand between his shoulder blades.

Even if fate had denied Gabriel the pleasure of ending his life in blisfull ectasy as his insides gets shot out in a beutiful rainbow of viscera, he had in the end found a worthy alternative.

[karen360-x3]

NEW GAV1EL FIC JUST DROPPED!!! AND IT'S BEEN A YEAR SINCE I WROTE ANYTHING WHHHYYYYY THIS SHI SO HARD

This one is about Gabriel having an existential crisis (I know, I'm very original), and meeting a certain Machine on the balcony of the Cathedral (Heresy).

Also, it's inspired by 2-S IMPERFECT LOVE SONG

Anyways, there it is:

[hotlineamyfics]

not a fic, just a snippet I wanted to write based on a dialogue idea smth smth making questionable choices but they're your choices and no one else's.

[afterartist]

Unhealthy for funny little hell robots

N e ways, Ultrakill fanfic (;

I was gonna draw art for this chapter but end of year burnout be hitting hard 😭😭

[unheavenlycreatures]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: ULTRAKILL (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Relationships: V1/V2 (ULTRAKILL) Additional Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Lovers that Still Beat The Shit Out Of Each Other But Lovers Nonetheless, Author Doesn't Understand Computer Programming, Toxic Robot Yuri, these robots asses were NOT made to love tender lmao, Girlfailure V2, Wire Play, everyone has ptsd! yayyyy 

Chapter Summary:

you know what this chapter is about.

[cosmicalbot]

WING MAINTENANCE [ NEW DIRECTIVE ]

V1 tilted its head, settling itself back into a comfortable position. Now this was interesting. Gabriel wanted to preen it, despite its lack of feathers. It had no idea how that would even work. Maybe he could polish them up?

A machine and angel talk while taking care of each others wings.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64187827

[two-dollar-peanut]

[EXTREMELY LOUD COMMOTION. CYMBALS CRASHING, CAR HORNS, CATS HISSING, ETC.]

do you like the popular roblox horror game Pressure (2023)? do you enjoy occasional play of the indie boomer-shooter ULTRAKILL (2020) ??? have you ever thought to yourself "man, i love listening to gianni matragano's voice. i just wish his characters in their respective games could interact with each other in some capacity"

WELL I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR YOU

i am currently writing a stupid thing where that exact thing happens!! started off as something stupid, but is slowly gaining an actual plot. you can take a quick little peek at the tags but please give it a try i would appreciate it

you can read it here

[mimic1lover]

The Gabv1el comic is in the works

You get the sketch of a panel to

If your in the newblood discord you probably saw the finished result of this teehee

[weirdbeancurd]

Attempted Apologies, Chapter 3- ULTRAKILL Fanfic

Chapters: 1 2 3

Ao3 (Link)

@h0ped3lusion @vallianttreedreamland (thanks for loving my work lol)

god I am SO sorry for taking so long to write this, but I've been super busy with a job, moving, and a bunch of other adult stuff. thank you all so much for being patient and leaving lovely comments. I'm not totally happy with some of this story (I'm never happy with my writing lol), so I might make minor changes, but other than that, this fic is finally done!!! thanks again for sticking around, and thank you @persi-person for helping peer review!

also I originally planned for this to be strictly platonic, but it definitely leans more into romantic territory with V1 and Gabe (and a bit with Minos and Sisyphus). it can still be seen as platonic, if that's what you'd like, though!

Takes place in an AU where the prime souls live, and Gabriel and V1 live on the surface as apocalyptic roommates. (oh my god they were roommates)

Summary: Gabriel attempts (key word: attempts) to apologize to Minos and Sisyphus for their executions, but it doesn't go as well as he had hoped. Chapter 3 out of 3.

“I, uh. Love what you did with the curtains?”

Gabriel’s feeble attempt at small talk is ignored. Breaking the ice has never been this difficult, and he's getting absolutely stone walled by the man stitching up his skin. Prestigious ruler or not, his bedside manners can use some work. He tries not to let his irritation show through his body language. I think I’d rather get my ass handed to me again over whatever this is.

“Is everything alright?”

“...”

“Look, you really don’t have to do this. I can just head back and patch mys-”

“Hold thy tongue,” Minos snaps. His mouth slams shut. He immediately drops the subject.

“Oh, um yeah. I can do that.”

He fidgets with his hands for lack of anything better to do. The loopiness from his fever is fading, his dampened healing factor working overtime to repair weary muscle. While he still had his light, Gabriel’s regeneration was enough to mend any wound in seconds. Now more than ever, he longs for that invulnerability, bestowing him confidence to the point of arrogance, reckless beyond abandon. It encased him like his shell of armor, covering incorporeal flaws. If only he could see himself now, having to rely on the tools of man and the care of another to heal. Some days, he berates his reflection. “How weak,” “how distasteful,” he thinks. “How pathetic.”

How the mighty have fallen.

His eyes flick back and forth from Minos and the floor, trying not to get caught staring. He doesn't deserve to be in their presence; a kind and noble man like him shouldn't be tainted by his darkness. Perhaps that's why Minos is being so irritable; he must be rubbing off on them. Despite the need to shy away, he spares another glance.

Gabriel's helm shields his face, but he feels naked, transparent, like the king’s iridescent skin. He sees right through them, literally and figuratively. Right through their resentment, which is held not only for Gabriel, but also for the man himself. V1 once spoke of his rage upon being liberated from the flesh prison, going as far as to describe his demeanor as “violent;” a bit ironic coming from the literal murder machine. He never thought those two words could be said in the same sentence; violence and Minos simply aren't compatible, like oil and water, fire and ice. Or so he thought.

Halfway through their battle, he grit out a single, spiteful word; “weak.” He spat it out as if it tasted vile, vicious and repulsive like acid on his tongue. And while yes, Minos despises V1 for all their kind has done to humanity, he’d never deny their skill in battle. The king was struggling to his feet, having to push off his knee to stand, frustrated that his muscles seemed to rebel against him. It's almost as if that bitterness was directed not at the machine, but instead at…

Hm. Maybe they're not so different after all.

Gabriel observes the man beside him, no longer trying to be discreet. Their shoulders are tense, whether it's from being hunched over so long or the restraint needed to not beat him until his bones are a fine, white mist, he doesn’t know. But he will risk his skeletal system if it means this’ll stop being so damn awkward.

“I’m well aware you told me to shut up,” Gabriel says, holding his hands up in a placating manner. Minos gives him a deadpan glare (or what he assumes is a deadpan glare), but lets him continue. “But I must speak my piece.” He takes a deep breath and resists the urge to pray to a god that no longer exists.

“The father once told us that all sin can be forgiven with a confession and a wave of the hand.” He laughs bitterly. “Now, that's really not true, is it.” It's not a question. He knows the answer.

“No confession will ever right the wrongs that are my actions. No apology of mine will ever be worthy of your ears. I presume you would not want one from me, anyways.”

Minos doesn't dignify him with a response, opting to stare straight ahead.

Gabriel is reminded of his own silent brooding, remembering the warm glow of the campfire while he pondered his questionable morality. After a (not-so) healthy amount of denial, he'd turned to self loathing. How could he have not recognized the council's manipulation sooner? Was he that blind, that moronic to believe their lies? Or was he just too pathetic to form any sort of resistance? What if he was more observant, would he have figured this out earlier and prevented it all from spiraling down to disaster? These questions crowded his mind, like fish in a much-too-small bucket, gasping for air, suffocating each other as they squirm and writhe. The “what ifs” and “if onlys” taunted him with a universe in which he was better, stronger.

How he yearned for someone to battle his thoughts for him, to shut down the paralyzing convictions that plagued his dreams. So maybe what they really need isn’t an apology, just simple reassurance.

“You…are not weak. Far from it.” The words come out awkward and stilted, though he barely needs to think before he speaks. It’s like the syllables have long been ingrained in the deepest parts of his mind, mouth moving to form sounds that have already left his lips.

“You were wronged, and people suffered for it, but it wasn’t your fault. Your strength would not have made a difference, though you harbor more of it than I ever will.”

It's hard to tell what Minos is feeling, half from the fact he lacks a face, and the other half being that Gabriel's people skills are out of practice. In fact, he never had them in the first place. Never had a reason to, if your only purpose is to carry out orders.

“The fact you still stand here today, tragedy after tragedy, is a show of resilience. Though you couldn’t prevent the tragedies in the first place, you did your best to make do with what was left. What’s done is done, Minos.”

He wishes he can take his own advice. Practice what you preach, as they say. Gabriel was never a good preacher, but he tries. He makes sure the other man is listening before delivering his final words.

“You did good.”

Minos says nothing, and for a terrifying moment he thinks he’s made a fatal mistake. And then the man huffs a quiet laugh. Gabriel stares in confusion.

“I…appreciate thy appraisal, but I must admit I’m rather conflicted. On one hand, I understand thou hast merit, but I am reluctant to entertain thy words, due to our history.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze, disappointed he didn’t get through to them, but Minos starts again.

“However, I must thank thee. Thou clearly drew from thy own experience; that shows courage. I shall consider thy appraisal.”

He perks up at that, looking to the king with elation and surprise.

“Just…keep the creature of steel away from this layer. I’m sure thou can surmise why.” He sounds like he’s trying to keep his anger at bay, staring at the floor.

Oh, V1. Yes, he can do that. It did destroy much of what was left of Minos’ kingdom after all, so a permanent ban from the lust layer is more than fair. And that’s not even delving into their battle, the man treating his own defeat as a sign that he’d failed humanity. He shudders at the thought of what Minos would do if he got his hands on them again.

“I understand. I’ll tell them to avoid your city.” It’s Gabriel’s turn to laugh. “Maybe it’ll actually listen to me for once.”

He fixes his eyes on the floor as well, the two sharing a moment of understanding. And then the moment is gone, brief as it is cathartic.

“Sisyphus will accompany thou as I prepare supper. Stay.” Minos goes to open the door…revealing the man in question. Speak of the devil. He has the gall to look smug, bent at the knees to press his ear to the door, the shameless bastard.

“What have I told thee about eavesdropping,” Minos seems unphased, expectant, even.

“Sorry,” But Sisyphus’ grin says otherwise. “I can't help it. Force of habit, I suppose.” The other lets out a rather childish groan.

“I would tell thou to cease thy antics, if not for thy refusal to listen.”

“That's not true. I listened in on your conversation perfectly well.”

“That's…just entertain thy guest.”

“Anything for you, my friend.”

Minos tries to slip past the other, very much ready to leave, but not before Sisyphus catches him with a warm hand on his shoulder. His large frame blocks most of Gabriel's view, but he sees his body lean into theirs. All encompassing, like a solar eclipse. He can't hear what they're saying, so he can only imagine the kindness Sisyphus reserves for friends alone, something he knows he’ll never deserve. He’ll let them have their moment, too.

Once Minos has had enough (said affectionately) with his friend’s fussing, he leaves the two alone in favor of attending to his kingly duties (or whatever that man does in his free time). Sisyphus takes a place at his side, awkwardness not any less prevalent. Time to pull out his award-winning small talk skills again, because that went over so well last time. Believe it or not, Gabriel's smart enough to know that bringing up the king's beheading is a bad idea. The traumatic event is likely still an open wound, for lack of a better term. When would it be appropriate to “get over” your own beheading, anyways? Fourty, fifty years? A hundred? Never? It's not like he's going to get his head back. Alright, now he's just stalling. He needs to come up with a conversation topic quick, because he swears the silence is eating away at his soul. Maybe he can talk about V1; he finds himself doing that often. Not that it means anything.

“...I apologize for my friend's behavior.”

Sisyphus raises a brow.

“You have friends? I never thought you had it in you to be likable.” Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. Gabriel rolls his eyes, giving an indignant glare. “I do not know who you are referring to. Not many can tolerate your presence.”

“I'm just going to ignore what you said and move on. Look, the machine has said it regrets it's actions-”

“Ah, you mean the child of man.” His mood lifts instantly. “At least you have good taste in company. Our battle ought to be remembered; it was invigorating. I hope to have a rematch someday.” Well, that was very much not the reaction he was expecting.

“You don’t…hate V1? They nearly killed you!”

“Is that its name? I shall honor that, for unlike you,” He shoves a finger in his direction. “it fights with a sense of decency.” Gabriel shrinks under his scrutiny. “How ironic, that a war machine holds more virtue than the supreme angel.” Ouch.

“...That was uncalled for.”

“Was it? It’s not my fault that your lover has better morals than you.”

Time stands still for Gabriel. He feels like he just got shot by the railcannon. There’s no way he heard that right…right?

“I’m sorry, my WHAT?”

“Your lover,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You two are joined at the hip. It’s nauseating, honestly. Or was your relationship supposed to be a secret?” Gabriel flounders like a fish out of water. This greatly amuses Sisyphus, who’s found his new favorite pastime: pestering a certain archangel.

“I-we are not a couple! I don’t know where you could’ve possibly gleaned that from, but you’re wrong. They are my companion, nothing more.”

“Denial does not look good on you, Gabriel. I thought you were past that.”

“Listen,” he grumbles. “we may be close, but I do not have feelings for the machine!”

“Whatever you say.” He drawls, voice dripping in sarcasm. Sisyphus grins when the other lets out a frustrated groan.

“You-ngh. You are impossible. For the last time, I’m not in love with them. I don't even like them; they're, uh. Sinful and unholy-”

Thud. They whip their heads towards the noise. It sounded like someone kicking open a pair of doors.

“Did…did you hear that?”

“Of course I heard that. Now shut your mouth.” They sit in tense silence. A single beat passes before the quiet is shattered by a thunderous shout.

“CREATURE OF STEEL.”

Oh no. It better not be who he thinks it is. It seems Sisyphus has the same inkling, both slowly turning to give the other a wary look.

“...Is that-”

CRASH.

The wooden wall by the door explodes inward, a blue torpedo rocketing into the room, splinters flying everywhere. Gabriel lets out an undignified shriek. As the dust settles, he can make out a familiar figure lying in the rubble. Shit. It is who he thought it was. At least they seem completely unharmed, despite crashing through a damn wall. It perks up when it sees Gabriel. V1, like the menace it is, waves excitedly. He can’t for the life of him conjure up a single word to say, speechless for the Nth time today. Sisyphus, for one, doesn’t appear phased, greeting them with a hearty chuckle.

“Ah, V1. We were just talking about you. How nice of you to join us.” It would've given him a wave as well, but their friendly conversation is interrupted by a foreboding presence.

“THOU ART NOT WELCOME HERE.” Minos has arrived, and boy is he pissed. He stands in the hole left in the wall, posture stiff and gaze unyielding. The dim, blue-tinged light that once emanated from his form has grown into a blazing, turquoise glow. His heart pumps furiously, veins bulging, visible through his translucent skin.

If Gabriel thought Sisphysus’ wrath was terrifying, Minos’ is nearly enough to make him go into cardiac arrest. Before he can properly process his own terror, the king starts approaching V1, fists ready. Gabriel quickly scrambles to put himself between the two, reacting before his common sense can stop him.

“Don’t!”

Minos glares down at him. Somehow his lack of eyes makes him even more terrifying.

“Please. Spare them.”

The realization sets in that he’s keeping a predator from its prey, and there’s a slight tremble in the arm he shoots out to keep the man at a distance. With a huff, Minos tries to shove past, but the angel shifts to block him. Gabriel sternly shakes his head.

“Move.”

Minos’ voice drips with venom, thick with barely concealed rage. It takes everything within him to stand his ground, anticipating the worst. After all, V1 would do the same for him.

“I will not. Ask. Again.”

Fuck. Gabriel is starting to regret not bringing his swords. He watches helplessly as the other advances, quick steps with murderous intent. He tenses his muscles, steadies his breath, and prepares for a jaw shattering punch…but is instead met with a voice, low and understanding.

“Minos. Think about what you are doing.”

Gabriel locks eyes with his unlikely savior. Sisyphus is the picture of neutrality, brow set in careful analysis. He's well aware of the fragility of the situation; Minos looks like he’s just about to go off the deep end. And while he has good reason to loathe, Sisyphus knows he'll regret lashing out. His conscience always comes back to haunt him, the damn thing. As much as he'd like to see the two mashed into a red paste, Minos doesn't need another thing to lament over. He can’t say he’s looking forward to defending the duo, suddenly reminded of what provoked such an intense response. He scolds himself for starting to actually get along with Gabriel, nearly forgetting the horrors he unleashed upon his greatest friend. Sisyphus schools his expression, trying not to let his own anger show.

“Your people, they look up to you for your compassion and empathy. Where is that mercy now?”

There's a near unperceptive tremor that wracks his friend's tense frame. Good. He's getting through to him.

“The beings before you did what they needed to survive. While their actions had dire repercussions, and I am not absolving them of fault here, consider their circumstances.”

Minos doesn't want to. He doesn't want to humanize them any further. He wants to tear them apart like they did humanity, unhindered by stupid morals.

“Would one blame a trout for thrashing when caught? Would one scorn a wolf for killing to eat?”

A thick, black liquid starts to ooze out of Minos’ abyss-like face. It flows like tar, ugly and coagulated with sorrow and feelings he'd hate to dissect. In the hollow silence that swallows the room, they can hear his breath hitch.

“Gabriel,” Sisyphus says, fixing him with a piercing stare. The angel stares with wide eyes, not expecting to have been brought into the conversation. “You were a weapon wielded by another, neglected and abused. When you inevitably faltered, you were discarded like a rag.”

Gabriel lowers his gaze. He hates that they're right.

“The sins you committed were the result of eons of manipulation and torture. When you finally realized what you'd done, you took immediate action to correct your mistakes with the little time you had left.”

The angel in question is stunned into silence. Truly, what more could he have possibly done in his situation? With only one day to right his wrongs, it’d be futile to reason with the council; killing them was the sole solution. As for the sins of his past, perhaps all the blame does not fall on him. It was the council’s abuse that forced him to carry out their word, conditioned to be unquestioningly loyal to the point of blind faith. While he was the one to strike innocents down, the blood is also on their hands. An ancient weight is halved, lifted from his shoulders, no longer unbearable. A sliver of forgiveness, not from another, but for himself: a gift he never expected Sisyphus of all people to bestow upon him. He would’ve expressed his gratitude if not for the sudden shift in subject, mourning the chance to thank his unlikely advocate.

“V1,” the machine perks up at the mention of its name. “You were created to kill and survive, and you did just that. After the threat of death had passed, you opted to explore beyond your nature. If passivity was an option, you took it.”

They do little more than tilt their head in consideration. They’re a bit hard to read on the count of not having a face, so he can only speculate if it's having a similarly Earth-shattering revelation like his.

“You defied your creator’s wildest expectations. Yes, you are violent, and ruthless, and efficient, but you are more than just that. I see flair in the way you fight, confidence in your skills, and a desire to succeed. You are so much more than the actions you did in order to survive.” He lets a beat of silence pass for the information to sink in before addressing the man of the moment.

“Minos, listen to me.” The king doesn't turn to face him, but he's known him long enough to tell he’s hearing every word. “You are a just ruler who took the time to care for each of your denizens, and you have every right to be angry that they met an untimely death. You did not deserve your fate, and neither did they. And neither did V1 and Gabriel. We are all victims of circumstance.”

Minos’ fists shake, clenching and unclenching. Everything sounds like it's underwater, words garbled and distorted, yet frustratingly coherent. He wants to plug his ears and scream until he suffocates, anything to get Sisyphus’ voice out of his head. He wants to destroy everything and everyone, until there is nothing left, and then destroy himself too. For once, he just wants revenge, not resolution. It’s not like he can ever get his people back, anyways. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench.

“The only thing we can do now is to live on. Stand down, Minos. Is this what your people would've wanted?”

Something in him snaps, and the fight leaves him all at once. It’s not. It’s not what they would’ve wanted; how deplorable it would be to kill in their memory. Wordlessly, he rushes out of the room. Sisyphus holds out an arm to stop the other two from following.

“No. Give him time.”

The air is plunged into silence once again. Gabriel dares to break it, eager to give thanks.

“I-thank you. We truly appreciate-”

“Don't. Just-” Sisyphus sighs, shaking his head. “don't. I didn't do this for you.”

“...”

“We will meet by the castle entrance when the sun starts to set for your departure. Do not follow me.”

“...I understand.”

Wow. A bit harsh. Regardless, he's still grateful for this new perspective, if not a tad disappointed. Sisyphus rises from his chair and heads toward the door, steps stiff yet dutiful. Lost in thought, it takes Gabriel a moment to notice the king hasn't actually left the room yet, lingering with his back turned.

“The suffering you’ve brought my dear friend is beyond cruel. For that, my forgiveness is withheld, but my words hold true. Do with that what you will.” He finally exits, figure slipping through the door.

Huh. The pseudo-approval of Sisyphus feels…nice. It’s easy for him to get lost in his own sense of accomplishment. Gabriel feels a hand rest upon his. He snaps out of his trance, eyes trailing up its arm to see the machine sitting beside him, staring ahead. There's an awkwardly long pause before V1 has the courage to speak up.

Its hands move in quick, stilted gestures, conveying aggression in its urgency. Oh, they’re angry, he realizes, cringing in anticipation. He’s had more than enough action for today, thank you very much.

What are you doing here?!

“Me? I-uh,” Gabriel scrambles for an excuse. “I was just visiting lust for a chat with a couple old friends, but um. We had a little disagreement.”

The machine raises a single brow. Or they would’ve, but making fully-functional robotic eyebrows was apparently not one of their creator’s priorities. Shame.

Right. It looks like you three had an absolute ball.

The angel grimaces.

“Alright, fine. I came here to apologize for my actions.” He huffs. “And clearly, it didn’t exactly go to plan,” gesturing to the bruises that still litter his torso.

No shit. And without your armor, too. What, were you trying to get yourself killed?

“W-well, when have you ever cared about my wellbeing?” Gabriel growls, suddenly standing to his full height. “Even if you do, I’m just a bloodbag to you. You only care about your own survival. You always have.” V1 narrows their optic.

You don’t mean that.

“What if I do? And what if I was trying to kill myself?!” He shouts, picking up the nearest chair and chucking it across the room. It isn’t until its splintered remains settle on the floor that he regains his composure, kneeling on the ground, visibly deflating.

“I should’ve died after those twenty-four hours were up. I should’ve.” He whispers. He sounds so frail, a startling divergence from his usual bravado. Cold metal makes contact with his shoulder. He turns sluggishly to V1, if only to “hear” what they have to say.

I-

Its movements falter momentarily.

I do care about you. And I always have.

They don’t meet his eyes, but he still desperately clings to the hope that it’s speaking truthfully.

“I…I need some air.”

Gabriel speeds toward the balcony, the machine following suit. He takes a seat on the banister, gaze facing forward as V1 does the same. They both stare at the blazing horizon for a while, until V1 can’t take the silence any longer.

You make me dissatisfied with existence, it blurts out, signing almost incomprehensibly fast.

Gabriel blinks. How to respond to that, he does not know.

“I…thanks? I guess?”

It frantically waves its hands, trying to show it means no ill will.

I mean, you make me want more out of life.

It was never allowed to enjoy things; It never had the chance. But now, they spar for the heck of it, not over sustenance or resources. It takes the time to manually read books instead of scanning them, something they once considered a mere waste of fuel. It ignores the alerts that flood its vision, closing them before they have the chance to tell it that it's being “inefficient.” Text irrelevant its ass. Before Gabriel, they were just surviving. Now, they live.

Gabriel can't help but smile. They said so little, but they needn’t say more. He knows what they're feeling all too well. It takes a bit of effort to muster up the courage, but the machine’s honesty spurs him on, and he manages to find his words.

“I think I understand. You taught me to…want. And by the heavens, I wanted to live, I wanted to fight and struggle and fail, to laugh and cry and watch the sunset a million times over just to say that I did. When my light was taken away, it was you who gave me clarity, and for that…I cannot thank you enough.”

He leans a bit closer, just reveling in the comfortable silence they've created. V1 scoots over, closing the distance between them. The cool metal feels nice against his skin.

I think he's right.

“About what?”

Only thing we can do now is keep living, despite-no, with the guilt.

“...How?” The question of “why” goes unasked.

Not sure. But we're still alive, so we've got to be doing something right.

“...I suppose you have a point.”

Perhaps those questions can be answered another time. Right now, all that seems to matter is the gentle breeze that passes through the cracks in his armor and the feeling of the machine's plating against his shoulder. His heart swells as they bask in the “sun's” rays. Considering they're in literal hell, that glowing ball is no star, but whatever it is shall suffice. They’ll make do, as they always. A ray of light falls upon the pair, encasing them in warmth. How picturesque. Two beings at the end of time, watching the sun set as it slips below the horizon.

…Hold on.

Aren't they supposed to be heading somewhere right now? Oh. Oh. Sisyphus is expecting them.

“Shit. We need to go, now.” He snatches V1's hand and bolts for the door. Heart to heart be damned, they have a deadline to meet.

Maybe Gabriel's previous difficulty navigating the palace was procrastination after all. It's remarkably easy to traverse, especially with his head clear and V1 helping guide him. He supposes everything feels a little easier with a clear head, and they find the castle gate in record time. The prime souls are already waiting there, punctual as expected.

As the two pairs face each other in the doorway, Gabriel notices Minos’ glazed look, Sisphysus’ hand resting on his shoulder. He follows the king’s stare, his eyes landing on the city below.. Before he has time to wallow in shame, Minos’ gaze drifts back to him. Silence. Introspection. After an excruciatingly long lapse in conversation, Minos sighs.

“I bid thee farewell. May thy travels be uneventful.” He senses the sincerity in his voice, and it's honestly relieving. The fact they can even speak to him without hatred oozing from their words leaves him dumbfounded. And it’s not forgiveness, most definitely not, but it’s something. After the atrocities he’s committed, Gabriel is endlessly grateful for this morsel of absolution. The corners of his lips turn upwards as he bows his head in gratitude. His core blooms with warmth.

Ever impatient, V1 halts their respectful exchange by tapping him twice on the shoulder, metal meeting flesh. It raises its hands to sign. Home? It asks. Gabriel huffs fondly, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes. We’re going home.” He pivots to the kings. “Thank you very much, truly, but we must get going. This one,” gesturing to V1. “is getting restless. And should also learn some manners.” That earns him a flick to the helmet. He swears he hears Sisyphus stifle a chuckle.

Resisting the urge to bicker, Gabriel turns away, guiding V1 into his hold. With a flap of the wings and a powerful thrust from his legs, they take to the sky. Every beat takes them higher and higher, and further and further from Lust. He doesn’t look back, just focuses on keeping V1 from slipping out of his arms.

His stamina isn’t as infinite as when he still had his light, so by the time they reach the surface, Gabriel is exhausted. They decide to call it a night and rest where they land. He sets up a campfire, not unlike the aftermath of his second defeat, but now with kinder circumstances. It’s nice having someone beside him, even if they are a bit of a pest.

“You're a nuisance, you know.”

The machine gives a cheeky thumbs up. Gabriel heaves a heavy sigh, and for the first time in eons, he feels light. His burdens do not sag and tug at his heart, and the gnawing guilt he harbors has lost its bite. He laughs, pulling V1 in, sheltering them with his wings. Joyous and content, Gabriel gives in to the lulling effect of the setting sun. As sleep pulls him under, he dreams of a hopeful future, not of tongues and teeth.

And though the sight of the lust layer still fills him with regret, the weight on his shoulders is a bit easier to carry. Gabriel may never be able to cry life back into the townsfolk, nor grieve them back from death, but he’s made an effort to make amends. It's a long way forward, yet it's a step in the right direction. These days, the shame doesn't linger and fester like it used to. It's been replaced with a fire that burns bright and unyielding. Gabriel decides he likes his newfound vigor.

And oh, how it suits him to feel strong.

Leave a reply telling me your thoughts if you'd like. :) I appreciate any and all replies lol. And yes, the last line is a reference to the dodie song "Ready now" hehe

[itsybitsybat666]

Gabriel falls upon the ground of 3-2 and exclaims "Oh machine, whatever will you do to me now that you've bested me in combat? Perhaps you will finish me? Oh the woe of knowing that I am at the mercy of such a ruthless machine, Oh machine whatever will thou do to me?" V1 approaches Gabriel slowly, then reaches out and places a finger under Gabriel's chin and gently lifts his face up before saying

"Haha loser get ratio'd." "MACHINE!" Gabriel interrupts. The machine continues "L + ez + getonmylevel-" "MACHINE I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU!" Gabriel draws his swords once more "I'll be the one to finish YOU!" Gabriel lunges at V1 once more, this time glowing red from anger and rage.