#is this nonsense or is this the holy grail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuttershocky · 1 year

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Something I've been wondering for a while now, what is the thematic meaning of Shiro's "Who says a copy can't surpass the original?"

Exactly what it says on the tin.

Gilgamesh calls Archer a Faker for the exact same reason Archer tries to kill Shirou: they do not have any individuality, much less the soul of a hero, to begin with. Their existence is as a shadow of someone else.

"Emiya Shirou" does not truly exist as a person in Fate/Stay Night. Survivor's guilt and intense PTSD has hollowed him out to see himself as a tool for other people and not as a person. All of his skills like cooking, cleaning, and repairing were learned to serve others. He has no wish but to fulfill someone else's (Kiritsugu's) dream, and his ideals are borrowed from that same person. He has no real personal goals or ambitions (he tells Taiga he wants to be a superhero), and places no value at all on his own life, which is why his actions in the 5th Holy Grail War are downright suicidal.

Even when the visual novel reveals an intelligent, sarcastic, highly analytical voice inside Shirou, all of that goes flying out the window upon seeing someone's injury triggering his PTSD, creating that vacant stare and suicidal, nonsensical rationality that has had anime-onlies calling Shirou a vapid idiot for almost 20 years.

This is why the nature of the spell Unlimited Blade Works is important to understanding his character. As a rule, projection magecraft only ever copies the "image" of a weapon. It is seen as a functionally useless branch of magecraft, as a projected sword cannot copy the strength and durability of the original, much less replicate its unique powers.

But Unlimited Blade Works does. While its projections aren't perfect copies, they are able to replicate the unique powers of the original and at least a portion of their strength, turning Projection from a useless magic trick into an incredibly powerful ability.

This is because Unlimited Blade Works is a reality marble, which is a spell that takes the form of a person's internal world AKA their personhood, their self-meaning, what-have-you. On a story level, this means that Shirou's deep psychological issues which led to him de-personing himself and seeing himself as a weapon gave him an extraordinary understanding of the existence of a weapon, meaning that since this guy only ever thought of himself as a sword, when he projects a sword he doesn't just create the image of a sword, he creates a real one.

On a thematic level however, Unlimited Blade Works symbolizes how Shirou reacts to the statement that all he is, is a copycat. Even if his weapons, just like his ideals, are borrowed, the power that his blades wield is very real, just like how those copied ideals hold true meaning to him. He WILL be a hero, even if it's only chasing after the image of a true hero, or even if he only is a hero for one person.

So when Fate/Stay Night asks "who says a copy can't surpass the original?', it's asking if authenticity matters vs human effort. If a painter that makes a living by forgery creates such an immaculate copy of the masterworks that it evokes the same power as the original, does that not make the forger a master as well? If some no name ghost wields the most famous sword in the world with the ferocity and skill of the sword's equally famous owner, does that not make the ghost a swordsman of renown as well?

In that case, if you truly want to test the copy's worth, it would be vs the original, which is why in the route Unlimited Blade Works, Shirou fights Gilgamesh, the original hero and the true owner of all weapons of renown in the world, who claims every legendary name in history as mere thieves to his treasury.

This is also why Shirou defeats Gilgamesh, despite being weaker, less skilled, and a mere human vs a heroic spirit. Shirou may have been a copy, but the most original of all originals didn't want victory just as badly as the copy did, otherwise he would have taken the threat seriously enough to use Ea and win immediately. He took his natural superiority (and thus, the fight) for granted, did not put in anything but the minimum effort, and then got surprised that the other guy who worked for every advantage landed a critical hit on him.

That's when Gilgamesh says "I will admit, in this moment, you are powerful"

#Fate

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ymaohoh · 2 months

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Yankee Candle Baby - Fic

Eddie wants to buy something nice for Chrissy. Candles are romantic, right? Oneshot (See at the end for notes)

Word count: 3,730

Chapter: 1/1.

No trigger warnings. No real plot. Just fluff and lust.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

Oh yeah. He was most definitely out of his comfort zone. He was so far out of the zone that he felt like he was standing on a sinking ship surrounded by menacing hungry sharks.

The mall. The fucking mall. On this perfectly fine Saturday he was here of all places.

The small town of Hawkins boasted exactly one mall which meant it was unfortunately one of the busier places to be at the weekends, though at this precise time of the day he was thankful to see most of the shoppers were old folks, and noisy kids. His peers (and he used this term very loosely) would likely show up later when it was time to…God knows…go to the movies? Get a burger? Hit the arcade? Whatever it was the average American teenager did at the weekend with their friends or dates. As if he gave a flying fuck.

No, he hoped he wouldn’t run into anyone he knew. Not because he cared about their opinion - he was Eddie Munson, after all, have you met him? - but because he wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as humanly possible. He was on a secret D&D quest with one singular (but important) purpose...and as soon as he found his holy grail he would race back to his beat-up van and get the hell out of here.

His leather boots scuffed on the linoleum floor (decorated with some bright nonsense pattern) as he walked forwards reluctantly into what he considered the jaws of hell. Eddie was not typically a morning person and it seemed too early in the day for the overly bright lights that lined the walls or the music blasting out of stores that he could only assume people who hung here found ‘cool’ and ‘trendy’. He ignored the posters that lined the windows advertising whatever shit was for sale inside and kept his eyes open for one specific store.

Harrington said it would be right at the end of the first floor by the food court…and here…finally. Here it was. The walls to the store were painted bubblegum pink and unsurprisingly the patrons inside were all teenage girls wearing pastels and preppy makeup.

Hell was apparently the cover of Teen Beat or Just Seventeen, the magazines that he often found rolled up in this van nowadays.

Eddie looked at the bright and cheery store in question with something akin to repulsion (could he seriously hear Robert Palmer being played on the stereo behind the counter?) before taking a deep breath and plummeting inside before he could change his mind.

Addicted to love? Apparently he fucking was because it was the only reason he was here. The only reason he’d step inside a capitalist cesspit that was so intense and cheery and uncomfortable to him. The object of said addiction?

A tiny cheerleader who looked at him like he was her God-damned hero.

Chrissy was everything to him, even though they’d only technically been a couple (or ‘going steady’ as she reminded him) for a month now. Honestly? It felt longer. It felt like she’d always been a part of his life from the moment he first laid eyes on her neat strawberry-blonde ponytail. If you asked him if he could remember a time before her he’d draw a blank. He’d had a life without her, sure, but damn if he could remember much about it. He didn’t really want to. She’d woken him up like he was Snow White and she was the prince and life was now all singing cartoon birds, rainbows and sunsets. She was like the fucking sun itself.

Best of all? She was his. All his. They navigated through the highschool gossip, the stares, the outright rude comments that made him want to ball his fists like how the hell did that loser pull someone like her? Is she crazy? To be fair, it wasn’t a stupid question. He’d asked himself the same thing over and over. They’d laughed when hearing the suggestions of blackmail and magic and he’d fallen a bit in love with her when she admitted there could be magic at play.

If he thought it would make her smile (and seriously her smile always had the power to totally pierce through his chest like an arrow) then he would most gladly step into whatever hellish landscape needed. He’d move mountains for her. Battle demons. All that cliche romantic stuff.

Shit, he couldn’t wait to see her smile again. Maybe he was addicted.

Later on today she was coming to his trailer and they’d be all alone as his uncle was working a night shift at the plant. They’d arranged it so casually yesterday when he drove her home from school - ‘I’ll be there after I finish my chem homework, okay? Maybe six…seven?’ ‘Sure thing. Come round whenever’ - but despite the casual tone he really wanted to do something extra nice for her. He had an idea about making her dinner and setting it up all fancy on the table with the forks and spoons and whatever lined up in the so-called right places. Hell, he’d even bought some wine for them both and Harrington said it was a good bottle (for under $5).

He wouldn’t call Harrington a friend exactly, but he wasn’t a stranger either. He was also one of the only guys he sort of hung around with who actually had experience with women. Eddie would die if any of the kids found out about this (though really they knew how soft Eddie was for Chrissy. It was almost nauseating to be in the same room as them). Harrington has also recommended getting candles.

Girl’s love them, he’d said confidently. He’d pieced everything together immediately when he ran into Eddie at the store buying fancy healthy ingredients and wine. Eddie was a beer guy usually - wine had to only mean he was trying to impress someone. Trust me, man. There’s a new place in the mall that all the girls talk about. Sounds seriously lame but if you’re going with Chrissy the queen Cunningham then you better up your game. No offense.

So here he was. Like he said, he’d do anything for Chrissy. Even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone and doing something different.

Just like when she surprised him last Tuesday by showing up at The Hideout to hear his band for the first time. She’d looked so out of place in her floral dress beside the regulars who stuck to black and ripped denim as a rule, but she’d cheered loudly (his own personal cheerleader) and it made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. She really was a fucking gem.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

A friendly voice came out of nowhere and he looked up to see a salesgirl eyeing him curiously. He couldn’t blame her for looking at him in that way. Next to the other customers he stood out like a sore thumb in his jeans and leather jacket. Still, he had a reputation of bravado to uphold and he wasn’t the kind of shitty person who was rude to staff. Her name badge said ‘Becky’ in a tiny purple font. She looked to be around Chrissy’s age.

Becky, you’re going to be my best friend right now.

“You sure can. Candles? Word on the street is you sell them.”

She smiled and led him to the back of the store past all the scented bath crap, the bright cushions with tassels, the art-deco type figurines, and other trendy kitschy items that teenage girls seemed to adore having in their bedrooms. She led him to a counter at the back which was full of the promised candles. Several heads turned in surprise as he moved around but they soon went back to whatever little item that so fascinated them.

Ah shit.

“This is the only brand we sell as it’s the most popular. Is there one you have specifically in mind or do you need help picking one out?”

She was assuming he’d been sent here by his girlfriend (or sister or mom) to collect something on their behalf because they were tied up somewhere else. In which case he’d know exactly what it was he needed. How many boyfriends (or brothers or dads) had been in the same pitiful position as he was now? Becky probably spotted it right away which is why she was being so helpful. Golden star for Becky, he thought.

(He did love the term boyfriend though. Chrissy’s boyfriend. Chrissy’s boyfriend who would run errands for her. Ah, bliss).

He fixed her with a smile, saying honestly… “I haven’t got a clue, Becky. Honestly. I’m just trying to find something nice for my girlfriend.”

(His girlfriend. His girlfriend Chrissy. The person who braided his favourite bandana into her hair, marking her as such).

“Well that’s adorable,” Becky commented. The smile she wore now seemed far more genuine. “In that case let me help. What does your girlfriend use them for? Reading? Putting on during a bath? General ambience?”

Dude. Do not think of Chrissy in a bath. Not Chrissy in a bath wet with water and soap and…

“I’m fixing her dinner tonight,” he explained, turning to more pure and wholesome thoughts. “So something for that? I thought it might look…nice?”

This was hell. Absolute hell.

Still, two girls who were standing by all the bath crap nearby let out little sighs at his stilted phrasing. Becky looked pretty impressed too. Wow, was he nailing this? And was it just him or did his voice get softer when he spoke about anything to do with Chrissy?

“I’d go with a pillar candle then, for sure. You can place it in the middle of the table,” Becky suggested. She waved towards the right side of the display. “What’s her favourite smell?”

“Uh…well, she likes loads of things…”

And this was the trickiest bit. He didn’t know. Chrissy liked all sorts of smells and tastes. He’d noticed her happy sigh when she smelled the football field after the grass was freshly cut, and she said she liked the smell of ‘new books’. How could they make candles out of that?

“I see. Well, maybe test some? See which ones remind you the most of her. I need to go and help that customer over there, but I’ll be by the counter if you need anything else, okay?”

“Sure…thanks.”

This wasn’t going to be so quick and easy as he’d hoped.

Who the hell needed so many candles? Why were there so many sizes? What the hell was Home for Holidays? He managed to stifle a sigh. He focused on the taller candles to the right where Becky had waved, agreeing that they were probably best suited for his purpose (and would last longer - you know, if he and Chrissy forgot all about them in a daze of frantic making out). Wait - was his home at serious risk of burning down tonight?

It was a herculean effort to drag his mind away from Chrissy’s spectacular lips and back to the mission at hand. Really. He should be awarded some prize for this.

Right. Maybe focus on scent like Becky said? That was the whole point of candles now the lightbulb made them otherwise obsolete, right? He scanned the labels. What smell would Chrissy like?

Using his keen powers of logic and intellect (sharpened recently with Chrissy’s tutorage) he noted that the candles seemed to be arranged in a specific order. The ones on the top shelf sounded like flowery ones.

Lavender? French Lavender? Lilac Blossoms? Lily of the Valley? He held the latter up to his nose but yanked it away quickly. No way. It smelled like something his grandmother would buy. From what very limited information Chrissy offered about her batshit family they seemed to uphold ‘good old-fashioned conservative values’ like most of middle America and Chrissy herself unknowingly still toed some traditional ideals (though she’d hate any comparison to her crusty bitch of a mother). For example, she was the one who wanted to ‘go steady’ and go on ‘dates’. She also made them wait for date three before…well, what she would very cutely describe as ‘PG stuff’ stuff. As for Eddie? Hell, from day one he’d wanted to throw her over his shoulder cave man style and fuck her on the floor of his van (where she’d first gloriously uttered the perfect words ‘yes, Eddie, I like like you too’) .

Floral smells seemed to go hand in hand with those traditional ideals…yet Chrissy was showing day by day she didn’t want to be held back by that crap any longer. It started with baby steps - hell, dating him a biggie - but who knew what the future held? Chrissie wanted to go to college after graduation and instead of writing ‘baby-maker extraordinaire’ on her applications (as her family wanted) she confessed to wanting more. Maybe teaching? Maybe social work? She had the brains, for sure. His Chrissy was a Fourth of July sparkler, burning bright and sparkling. She could be whatever she wanted to be. She could have both a career and a family if she wanted because she admitted she did like kids (though the idea of Chrissy holding another little Chrissy in her arms made him feel things he never thought possible). With a fond smile he placed the candle back and moved along.

White fig, Sicilian Lemon, Sea Salt and Sage, Sage and Citrus, Olive and Thyme. The next shelf seemed to hold the candles that smelled like food. Which was bizarre when he really thought about it. He sampled them each. After all, he was buying a candle to go with dinner so didn’t it make sense for it to be food related?

He quite liked the citrus smell but he smiled when he saw the label for Thyme. He thought about the first time (ha) they’d cooked together at his trailer a few weeks back, back before they were dating. They’d still been at that bullshit flirty-but-not stage, both too scared of admitting their real feelings in case they ruined the tentative and unexpected friendship they both secretly cherished. Dinner hadn’t been anything special - they’d been hanging out watching a movie with accidental (or not in his case) brushing of limbs and secret glances to her legs (she’d been wearing her cheerleader skirt, for crying out loud - he was not made of stone) - when they’d grown hungry and started fixing some pasta. Chrissy had been awkward when it came to food back then and it was something he’d picked up on right away. She would always make excuses not to eat in front of him but her growling stomach had on this occasion betrayed her big time. He’d heated up the pasta and asked her to pass the thyme to stir into the tomato sauce and she’d eventually admitted to not having a clue what that herb was. He’d been so careful to show not even the teensiest amount of surprise in his eyes, and instead patiently showed her how to use it in cooking. It was apparent that Chrissy only ate the same things day after day and it was all bland and unseasoned.

Less calories, right?

Since then she’d come along leaps and bounds with her eating, though it was still something present in the back of her mind like a cobweb they couldn’t quite dust away. Though he worried about the future - what would his dumbass do while Chrissy excelled? - one thing he knew for certain was right after graduation (maybe while still wearing those dorky robes) he would bundle Chrissy into his van and drive her far away from the influence of her asshole mother. If she let him he would dedicate his life to feeding and caring for her like she deserved. He hoped she’d be game.

He looked away from this shelf. They still had some work to do in this area.

He liked Candy Cane Lane, Cranberry Twist, French Vanilla, Pink Grapefruit…He smelled them appreciatively even though they were very sickly sweet. He liked his coffee black but he knew Chrissy preferred hers laden with sugar and cream (now she actually let herself indulge more).

Chrissy was sweetness personified in human form really. All sweet smiles and warm skin and caresses. She was popular for her looks, her kindness, her cheery nature. She also had the glorious ability to look past the dark parts of life (and in people) and see the goodness and the light. It was a trait that Eddie simply didn’t have and he marvelled whenever he was privileged enough to see it swell inside her. No matter how many times life seemed to try and beat it out of her, Chrissy was a God-damned angel who got right back on her feet and was unapologetically kind and sweet and dazzling. Eddie knew he would do anything in his power to keep that flame inside of her bright and fucking destroy anyone who tried to take advantage or smother it.

(Was he an attack dog now? A bull terrier? Why not. She already held his metaphoric leash. Where she went, he went gladly).

Chrissy had looked at him - him, Eddie, the guy who was all swagger and sarcasm and enjoyed guts and gore. The person who was labelled a freak, an outcast, a junior delinquent - and seen someone she wanted to be with. Her sweet pretty smile seemed to shine on him and say you’re my person and you are good and you are mine.

Hell, he was going to ravish her later on.

Strawberry

Oh yes. We have a winner. This would be the part where quiz show lights went off and heaps of cash fell from the ceiling.

He didn’t need to sample this candle because he knew right away this was the one which reminded him the most of Chrissy Cunningham.

Of her fucking perfect little mouth.

Chrissy had a habit of wearing lipgloss and it tended to be of the fruity variety which was A-OK with him as long as he was the one tasting it. He’d drown himself in buckets of strawberries if it meant he could once more brush his tongue against that soft velvet cupid bow. The rush he got from kissing Chrissy was better than any illicit high, and he knew as soon as he’d sampled just a little bit that it was game over. He was hooked for life. Chrissy was now in his veins - channelling through his body - and keeping his small insignificant heart beating.

Their first kiss hadn’t been planned but it was fucking spectacular all the same. So were their other firsts. All of them etched into his memory forever. He might casually use the word fucking to describe what they were doing nearly every single night in his trailer, but they both knew it ran much deeper than that. They were hooked on each other. Couldn’t get enough of each other. It made them frantic and careless at times. Though she swore him to secrecy (blushing as she did so because of course good girls would never) he would never tell another soul about the times they’d frantically fucked in the back of his van, or on the bench in the woods where they re-met. They’d even fucked hurriedly behind The Hideout and the image of him lifting Chrissy against the brick wall with her long legs wrapped around his waist, was something he thought about a lot. He remembered how her pretty lips looked when she came for him.

And before that when they first uttered the word fuck infront of him. They’d been sitting on the lawn with their friends at the time, and everyone had cheered at Chrissy Cunningham saying a bad word. He’d whistled and cheered too, though it was incredibly hot and a base instinct deep down wanted to grab her like he was some savage neanderthal and have her there on the field. He was pretty sure she knew that too because there was a coy twist to her smile.

Ding ding ding. We’ve found the candle. He picked it up and went to pay Becky.

“Nice choice,” she said as she popped it in a paper bag.

“Yeah. Chrissy is…” Chrissy was a lot of things. He settled on, “She tastes like strawberries.”

Becky’s cheeks flamed at his words and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Instead of feeling embarrassed, Eddie felt pretty proud of himself overall. He’d battled the demon that was the mall, found a sidekick of sorts in Becky, and retrieved the holy grail that would please the beautiful princess. Not a bad campaign really. “Chrissy Cunningham, you mean?”

Christ. They knew her here too? He gave her a stiff nod. Was she going to start coming out with the usual crap he heard in the corridors about not being good enough?

But no. Becky only gave him the bag. “Lucky girl.”

“Nah, I'm the lucky one.”

----

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for the couple, so apologies for any errors or mishaps with the setting or characteristics. It’s a learning curve. I was not alive during the 80’s so I did rely on a trusty search engine for a few parts. I actually searched for ‘Yankee Candles which are now obsolete’ (apparently they started in the 60’s - who knew?) and the ones listed above are the search results. Pretty sure some of them have come back into circulation though. The store Eddie so bravely ventured into is essentially an 80’s Oliver Bonas.

I’m also not from the US though I tried using some of the lingo. I think I actually wrote the word mum but it looked so out of place for this world. I can’t bring myself to swap the spell check over though so you still get plenty of u’s in unlikely places (or likely - eh).

I really enjoyed writing this. It came very naturally. I’ve posted some prompts on my page which I’ll make my way through but give me a shout if you’ve got any requests.

Toodles x

#hellcheer #edssy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #eddie munson is a good boyfriend #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons

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insomniac-arrest · 2 years

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Not to shake my fist at the sky like an old man, but I genuinely believe those dogshit Twilight parody movies/superhero parody movies/300 parody movies from the 2010s killed the genre of the film parody.

Parodies are allowed to have utter nonsense in them, but the saving grace is always some level of being clever about it too. They can’t all be Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) or even Airplane! (1980), but I really do think we could have a proper go at killing the superhero genre if someone would make fun of it better.

#Blazing Saddles contributed to the end of the smarmy western and I want that for us #tropes

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abejaenacuarela · 2 months

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feast / holy communion

(because I'm obsessed with the implication of biblical-style cannibalism that taints every page of this series)

• do not steal •

[I am really nervous about uploading this drawing because of the theme, but it took me an absurd amount of hours and layers. I am dissatisfied with Harrows face, the nonsensical shading and the absurd perspective on the table.]

Religious references I tried to include:

• sacred heart of Jesus (Gideon's pose + Harrow literally eating her heart)

•Jesus' wound which he shows to Thomas when he doesn't believe

• Holy Grail

• Sword easily resembles a crucifix

• also background, plates and Wake, Ianthe & God's poses are taken from Da Vinci's Last Supper. The broken bread is also to point to the last supper.

• also not a Catholic thing but I tried to include hints of Alecto and Wake haunting harrow, like the hairs stuck in Harlow's mouth, which was a kinda disgusting detail to draw lol

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runabout-river · 5 months

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Sukuna's Transformation

Is a one-time deal that transforms any reincarnated sorcerer to their original bodies. Because this transformation is complete (more to that later), it creates a loophole on injuries that the sorcerer might've sustained previously.

This loophole grants the sorcerer the ability to heal any injuries once(!) without the use of RCT, just like Sukuna did against Kashimo. Sukuna wasn't able anymore to heal his eye and hand, so Kashimo pushed him to get his hidden weapon and then to transform.

So what does this mean for Megumi?

I had an interesting talk about this and about the notion that exists in some circles in the fandom that Megumi has died with this transformation. Outside of that being a nonsensical statement in regards to what has been shown so far of Megumi, it also ignores a giant setback this transformation had from the very beginning:

It couldn't free Sukuna from Yuji

Sukuna had free reign of Yuji's body three times: at the detention center, in Shibuya and on the rooftop with Angel. At no point did he ever think of his transformation as the solution to his imprisonment, in other words: he can still be suppressed even in his original form.

Megumi can take back control of his body which will most likely reverse the transformation.

This transformation can only be done once, and it can't be repeated even if you only did it partly. Gege said in his author's comment that Yorozu didn't transform after getting slashed by Mahoraga because she had already transformed all of her body except her face.

This makes sense, as Tsumiki had been in a coma for 1 and a half years, her body would've been too weak to use effectively. Her face Yorozu kept to get an emotional advantage over Megumi and Yuji.

Sukuna might get another transformation loophole for himself if he consumes his last finger, setting the one-time deal back to zero because a new cursed object has entered the equation. There is another question though that's open right now:

Does the transformation touch the brain?

If yes, then Sukuna will be able to use his Domain Expansion against Yuji and Higuruma as long as he still has enough cursed energy, which he most likely has. This could mean though that he might loose access to the 10 Shadows Technique.

If no, then it's another point for Megumi getting his body back in his image and it also makes the Sukuna vs Gojo fight more equal. Let's remember, Sukuna lost his ability to cast his Domain because of brain damage he wasn't able to heal after getting hit by Unlimited Void.

If in this moment he could've transformed to get his DE back, then Gojo would've been cut toast way earlier. Now, Sukuna could've simply chosen to fight on without transforming but I doubt that he would've held Gojo in such high regards in the end if Gojo hadn't pushed him to his limits.

So, there you have it. The transformation is not the holy grail of fix-its and Megumi will come back.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #fushiguro megumi #satoru gojo #itadori yuji #meta

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tgrailwar-zero · 3 months

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... your mercy is much appreciated, Emperor Nero. As for the 'why didn't you summon me immediately' quandary, well. After our big mistake with Lucius, I think a lot of us wanted to avoid fumbling the bag again, so to speak. Not to mention Father Kotomine and Jaguar Warrior seemed like they were looking forward to getting a fellow Monitor back, but... it seems like you don't share the sentiment?

NERO: "Did I ask for your excuses? Or for you to barrage me with questions? And this nonsense… 'War Monitors', 'Origins', 'Priests'… and you all, begging me for information like this. You and this 'Solar Cell' are both causing my head to ache."

She had asked for an explanation, though pointing that out seemed like a poor decision.

Additionally, it seemed like unless she wanted to elaborate further, you may not get any much regarding her manifestation outside of 'she did it', in a manner as natural as breathing. Though her stance regarding the Solar Cell seemed readily apparent.

NERO: "And what's this about worrying about some other Servants? Am I not threat enough? Am I not important enough? My needs are exigent! Did I not declare you my Ensemble? And yet you dance to the tune of others? Should my punishment be harsher?"

CONSTANTINE: "And yet, their 'punishment' so far is simply you joining us. It seems like your mind was set from the beginning, wasn't it?"

Rather boldly, CONSTANTINE spoke up. NERO's expression wavered slightly, her attention focusing intently on him.

NERO: "Mmnn… that 'know-it-all' tone, why are looking as if you figured something out, Constantinus-- or, 'Constantinos', was it?"

CONSTANTINE: "Nothing, you're just a bit gentler than I expected. Or more discerning than you may act. As you said, crimes against the Emperor are a grave offense, and there's no shortage of Servants willing to undercut or slaughter my Masters."

…So this was her being kind? I guess comparatively, people have tried to kill you, so this was 'nicer'…

And, in her verbal tempest, she essentially just vented about her frustrations regarding your actions, and then essentially declared her intent to journey with you.

It seemed like she was someone who trusted her judgement and her judgement alone, for whatever reason. Traveling with CONSTANTINE and KUKULKAN, a king and a god, you felt the most pressure emanating from this Servant alone. While the two of them wore their 'doubt' openly, it seemed as if this Servant was almost devoid of the concept of 'doubt' altogether.

And for good reason- this was an Emperor of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty, from the era where 'Emperor' and 'God' were nearly synonymous. To many, trying to contradict the decree of an Emperor was like trying to argue with the rotation of the sun.

NERO cleared her throat, turning away from CONSTANTINE in a huff.

NERO: "Mm. Well, I have not forgiven them, so they should not feel relieved yet."

NERO: "Ah, yes! Those are the cheers I desire! My mood is already beginning to brighten! If you simply wish for more of my art, then ask, and I will indulge! My catalogue on the Solar Cell is sparse, but grant me the time, and I shall have a thousand scripts worth of beautiful artistry!"

It seemed like the best way to get on her good side was praise. An artist at heart, it seemed as if she could not deny any form of applause.

NERO: "The peak of artistry! Beloved by all! One who takes the stage, and has their crafts praised by their audience, immortalized forever!"

She declared, definitively.

NERO: "Unfortunately, I cannot share the next act, as I do not remember it. I do not recall what came over me when I first wrote it, just that I was truly pulling the artistry from my heart. My 'beautiful memories'. I wish to find them as well. Without them, it is like sailing through a fogged ocean."

She smiled, somberly.

NERO: "I was a Servant of the Lunar Holy Grail War... I know that, and I know I had a Master. We fought a good war together, against many opponents. Though now, their faces are all blurs to me. Even his. But I remember something, before our 'ending'."

So it seemed like she didn't have her entire set of memories back either. Perhaps more than the average Servant did when they were restored from an Origin, considering her outburst, but it was still limited.

Her expression grew dour.

NERO: "...I do not wish to talk about it right now, it makes my heart ache and my head hurt. I have just been summoned, and was in a pleasant mood. Am I not allowed my own peace for a moment?"

Abruptly, she expressed her desire to change the subject, moving on quickly. Perhaps that's something she'd be open to sharing later.

NERO: "Aha! Now that is a good change of pace! A splendid, beautiful vision indeed! Though that Avenger is a musician, you say? Then he simply has no choice but to join us! Welcome, my new composer!"

It seems as if AVENGER has been/is being conscripted to join your team.

Well, no point in arguing against an Emperor.

AVENGER: "Pardon?"

#thgw story #thgw: chapter 5 #main post #endless whispers

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mariacallous · 2 months

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As I noted yesterday, the Alexander Smirnov news is either confirmation of what we already knew or else spurs a kind of mass outburst of incredulity about how it is we’re still as a country, as a media, as a national political conversation getting led around by the nose by these same transparent scams?

Let’s stipulate that these are rhetorical questions.

But let me note a tendency I’m already seeing in a lot of coverage. House Republicans seems surprisingly candid that their holy grail of Biden impeachment isn’t going to happen. Quite a few press reports are taking a different tack. Some are playing this as “the Smirnov news may undermine the whole Biden investigation.” (Who’s gonna tell ’em?) To others it’s like a hot start up that failed. It just didn’t pan out. Oh well.

Neither of these is remotely adequate.

Rising like a phoenix from the ashes of what was always a bogus story is now one that is actually real. Notwithstanding 2015–16 and 2018–19, we now see that almost all of 2023 was dominated by a legal/political story that was not only bogus but — according to prosecutors’ filings and the discredited source’s own admission to federal authorities — was a plant by the Russian intelligence services. That’s real. That requires an explanation as to how that was ever allowed to happen. It requires some effort to prevent it from happening again.

Donald Trump and his MAGA legions have spent years shock-training reporters not to bring up anything else about Russian disinformation programs aimed at helping Donald Trump. But they’re real. They’re continuing. They’re actually working. And that remains the case no matter how many times Donald Trump says “RUSSIA RUSSIA RUSSIA” on Truth Social. Reporters have been conditioned to ignore the clear implications of what we’re learning.

This is even more the case if Hunter Biden’s lawyers are right that the younger Biden’s plea deal fell apart because of Smirnov dangling more goodies in front of David Weiss and his prosecutors at just the right moment. Looking at everything else we’ve learned about this, I suspect they’re right. But we should also be clear that so far it’s just their claims. They’re asking a judge to require Weiss’s office to cough up more documents they hope will prove their case. We’ll have to wait to see what they come up with.

The story here isn’t that the “Biden Crime Family” nonsense didn’t pan out. That was always transparently bogus. The story here is how the U.S. again got bamboozled by transparent foreign manipulation and how the U.S. political press bought into it pretty much whole hog. That doesn’t mean they accepted all the claims. But they treated it as reasonable, worthy of a presumption of seriousness, a serious story to be covered as such. Even with the veritable forest of red flags. Maybe that’s why there’s so little appetite to say what just happened.

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tgrailwar · 1 year

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Tumblr Holy Grail War: Wave 7 - Day 3 (Team Caster)

The territory was in ruins from Lancer's attack. Perfectly aimed, executed, and shattering the defenses even with Dante using the best of his ability to block the assault.

A deadly spear. A deadly strike.

"…Ah. So we lost. Well, that's simply how things are."

A voice of calm acceptance after a strained cough, as Dante slowly began to fade away. The Shades had already turned to dust as his concentration broke, leaving him as the only one left, a barbed spear lodged within his chest. It was truly painful, but he didn't dare to verbalize that sentiment. This wasn't a tragedy, after all. So, he simply spoke about matters otherwise.

"I never did truly have a wish for the Grail." He admitted, wryly. "It's an artifact that shouldn't be used by anyone except the Lord Himself. If it was real, I would have hidden it away. If it it was fake, and if I had won, you'd have needed to spend all the Command Spells you had to stop me and my Shades from destroying it. I suppose in some way, I was going to betray you from the beginning. I apologize."

For the first time, he truly laughed. It was unclear as to what. His foolish desire for the Grail… or perhaps thinking about what had occurred in the past few days.

He wasn't a warrior- a legendary hero like the others- he was simply a poet and a traveler. The fact that he had made this far was amazing enough to him- and of course, there was only one reason why he was able to last this long. He hoped that his gratefulness would carry in his tone.

"…Farewell, o' nonsensical Masters of mine. If you can honor my last request, ensure that this story remains a 'Commedia', and that the ending here is a happy one."

...And like a dream, he was gone. The Heroic Spirit Dante was no more in the story of this Holy Grail War.

...Caster has fallen.

Team Lancer gains his [1] remaining Command Spell.

#team caster #team lancer #prep phase poll #overseer post #thgw story

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miscielross · 4 months

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"What is your relationship with Cu Chulainn Alter?"

"The Bad Ending flag."

Even though I know the programming and can draw, don't think I could write my 2075 Holy Grail War competently /orz. I only have nonsense gags with Pretender Holmes.

This comic was supposed to be done around Christmas but I got busy with cooking for Christmas and New Years celebrations.

Next year I want to get back to drawing and posting 1 gag comic a week again.

#FATE GRAND ORDER

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sir-klauz · 1 year

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The real reason I have writers block rn is because I ran out of terms for peniz that were actually nice to use rather than “sweet lover Diluc sucked his masterful male other halves (Ayato) massive holy gherkin bigger than any other dongle you’ve ever seen in the land, fountains produced from the grails of large long monuments was released into the wilderness of the red heads crater mouth maw”

If anyone wishes to read this nonsense of a series check it out, it’s mad smutty though so handle with care.. but you never know the 3rd chapter might end up like that which is above ⬆️ at this rate

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slashingdisneypasta · 8 months

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Been nursing an Inkubus scenario a chunk of the day SO decided to slide it your way 😎 (apologies in advanced if it comes out jumbled and nonsensical 🙏🏻)

So the basic premise is that Ink has been pursuing Y/N for a little while but they haven't entirely budged on the idea of going out with him for one reason or another (gosh I wonder why)

Of course, persistent bastard that he is, Inkubus has not given up on his quest. So one time when he and Y/N run into each other, he's really laying on the charm, saying how he promises to make sure Y/N has a great time, etc etc.

At this point, figure he's holding eye contact with Y/N, maybe even adds the sly move of stroking his thumb along their cheek or chin.

Of course his magic would be aiding in the obvious tension in the air, and perhaps this time around, Y/N is caught a little off guard with things and falters just a little bit.

And of course by "falters", I mean that the tension and everything get the best of Y/N for just a few minutes, and they lean towards Inkubus almost as if they're about to kiss him....

And then they snap back to reality and come back to their senses, give him a quick shove away and then quickly run off 😂

Inkubus did not win this time around.

THIS MADE ME COMBUST.

First of all though- I love your use of the word 'quest' XDD Inkubus do I look like a holy grail, to you?-

Also 'run into each other'. Montana we both know if it involved Inkubus it was most certainly NOT a coincidence XDD But oh lord that man would tooootally go oh Y/N! fancy seeing you here... on your street... truly, a pleasant surprise. Or fate? Hm?

So- how was your doctors appointment? Did Dr Sherman have good news?

And you're just standing there like =_= how did you get my medical records

SECOND OF ALL!- I had to write you a little something for this amazing idea, of my lord. I hope you like this and it helps with your period! ^^

The middle of the street is a precarious place to stand, even in the middle of the night when their aren't any cars around, but right now under the street lamp with mere inches between you and this demon- you almost feel comfortable.

Which is completely insane, but somehow he always makes you feel Like That. How?? You don't know. He has a cheeky, manipulative Quality. Or evil magic. Either way-

And has this man gotten even more charming?? Has he gotten even more handsome?? Or is it that look in his eye right now? Like you're exactly what he wants. All that he wants. And he'll try everything he can think of to get you- and he can think of a lot. He's very old, and very clever, and his moral code is... 'relaxed'.

Not that he's been sinister with you so far- no, instead he's been completely honest as well as devilishly endearing and, at times, funny.

So far though, up until this moment at least with his heated devils-eyes locked on yours and his hand on your face, his thumb on your lip and a smirk on his, you've managed to resist. Sure, there has been a definite part of you that wanted him, but he's evil. And getting mixed up with him, Inkubus, could only mean trouble.

"I promise, dear, I swear to you; If you'd only let me, I would show you an evening wilder then your dizziest daydreams, hm? I'll take you anywhere. I'll get you anything. All I ask for, is your lovely company. Don't worry, I wont take you for too long... couple of hours... " He shrugs, a glimmer of mischief apparent as his grin widens. "Well, unless you ask, to stay."

... But god right now your legs feel weak, as your fingers clutch at his coat. Your head feels fuzzy staring back at him, listening to him. And your body feels burning hot like you're wearing way too many clothes-

Parting your lips and dampening them with your tongue, you attempt to say something. Reject him once again, maybe. "Uh... I... " But nothing comes out. Instead you only find yourself sneaking the tiniest bit closer to him, taking a deep breath. Your eyelids are falling almost-closed, and you can feel his breath on your lips, and- "... well... " ... maybe... maybe... just an hour couldn't hur-

Just as soon as you see the glimmer of mischief turn into a forest fire, you come to your senses. Wait!-

"Hold on- Absolutely not!" You exclaim, pushing Inkubus off you; Face burning hot still, heart beating rapidly still, but otherwise coming to your senses. Oh god oh god that was close!- "Hey! Don't use your pwers against me like that!"

Inkubus is smirking fully now, frustratingly amused as he raises his hands on either side of his head. "I'm afraid I didn't do anything, then, my dear~ That was our pure natural chemistry- mostly. Hm, and you were so convinced we didn't have any of that, huh~... Interesting, don't you think?... "

... You refuse. No. You refuse!! to believe it. He has to be messing with you. He must have used some kind of aphrodisiac spell. Instead of arguing, though, because just looking at him is putting you at risk of losing your senses all over again even now, you turn on your heel and start once again down the street towards your house. "Nope. No- N-Bye!"

His voice is full of smugness. "You cant hide from this, Y/N~ "

Let me try! "Yes I can!!" You call back, crossing your arms, trying desperately to push the idea of kissing that demon out of your head.

#Inkubus x Reader #Inkubus x Reader Excerpt #Inkubus

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