(Ahhh finally I’m free of my obligations to being in a friend’s wedding and all the six-day work weeks from July....I know I said I’d be more active before, but the heat just sapped my ability to put words together in a way that I actually liked. Also I’ve been trying to revive my fanfiction stuff, which is entirely unrelated to FSN so I probably shouldn’t be mentioning it here, but whatever.

Anyways, all my obligations are over now [I still have work but it’s five days a week now, huzzah!] and I should have more time to get stuff done! I’m contemplating giving myself a new theme, since I’ve had this one for a while, but we’ll see. In the meantime, I’m going through my thread tracker and collecting drafts! If your thread isn’t on there, please let me know!

And if y’all want to talk plots and such, just let me know, because I am always interested in new plots and interacting with new people!)

#(Hggg I don't think I'll get any drafts done tonight since I'm experimenting with themes on a different blog)#(But we'll see! I don't work tomorrow so I can stay up as late as I want!)

tinyholygrail

FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION

Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.

SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.

THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.

THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.

BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.

THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.

LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.

TAGGED: @bughammer
TAGGING: Whoever wants to do the thing!

#headcanons #tag memes #(I thought about doing the 'daughter of a witch' one)#(But Irisviel isn't really a 'witch' so I let it be)#(The others are pretty self explanatory for the most part?)

tinyholygrail reblogged

connachtking-blog

euripides-nuts

I’m not exactly the best example of healthy grieving.

Achilles (via pulvis-et-umbra-summus)

#musings #(Hahahahahaha don't you know it)#(Illya sucks at grieving even for the people she hates)#(She really needs closure but when she can't get that she just bottles up all the anger and sadness)#(Until she ends up screaming and crying about it)#(Always an unfortunate display)#(Someone get this child a therapist)

tinyholygrail reblogged

ayekanaru

Points to the young girl – her tone sounded and looked polite, even if Ayeka felt the opposite. Being told to move when you came here first?! As if it were easy to move the chair that has been so perfectly placed upon the sand, the sand cooperating with its dryness and malleability, that the sun will hit your skin and warm you rather than cook you like a well-rounded tomato?!

Well! Standards have been lowered for the beach too, it seems!

The crown princess glanced at the two others – they appeared to have been oblivious to all, classic helpers? – before narrowing her eyes at the one in front. Slowly she did look up at the sky, confused as to how the girl knew future weather reports. Nothing, not even a rainy cloud inching up or a random Galaxy Police officer flying through, either on time or on their way to crash. But Ayeka had been caught by surprise before. It was entirely possible that perhaps the sun will go away and her sunbathing session was ruined either way.

But.

There was the principle of it all: she came here first. By all rules, unwritten and written, it’s the little girl and her two companions who should have been considerate! Who starts setting up a tent without permission?!

Chuckling mirthlessly, she adjusted her sunglasses again. Hands on her lap, she leaned forward, attempts to look kindly and genteel. “My dear, it’s not quite that easy! After all, I may just have the chair, but you have…,” she looked to the hullabaloo behind the girl, “that. I also have the distinction of being here first–” And here she pointed with her index to the ground, emphasizing her point. Her tone still sounded sweet, though to veteran ears of emotion, it may have sounded more strained than anything.

“So I do believe that means you will have to ask permission or leave. And since you didn’t do the first one…”

Illya’s eye twitched ever-so-slightly. Just who did this lady think she was, anyways? If she had really wanted people to notice her being here, she shouldn’t have put her chair in this particular spot! How was anyone supposed to see her there? Besides, there was only one of her, and Illya had Sella and Leysritt on her side, so--so there!

And asking permission? Please! It wasn’t like the weird lady owned the beach or something, this was a public space and anybody could use it as they pleased! Illya would know, because the little tourist pamphlet thing she’d been handed at the last gas station they’d stopped at had said so! Anybody could go to the beach, so there was no one to ‘ask permission’ to use it!

The white-haired homunculus smoothed out her expression, folding her arms across her chest. She knew she wasn’t very tall, but she did the best to make the most of her one-hundred-thirty-three centimeter height, straightening up and widening her eyes. She could be very good at looking perfectly innocent when she wanted to, especially when times came around and someone was accusing her of, well, anything at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I should have realized, you probably wouldn’t know! This here,” and she gestured out to the entire beach, “this is a public beach, not a private one! So anyone can visit, and go swim, or whatever they like! There’s no need to ask permission for anything, because the government doesn’t regulate who comes and who goes!”

She smiled in a way that could almost be considered benevolent. “So, you see, I am free to set up whatever I like.” She would have said ‘Sella insisted on bringing it anyways’, but that might’ve ruined the image she was going for. So, instead, she carried on. “And you’re always free to move. There’s only one of you, so it’d be much easier for you to go somewhere else if you’re really that concerned about it.”

#ayekanaru

tinyholygrail reblogged

magus-kings-warriors-deactivate

magus-kings-warriors

And so it was time to continue the little trip Berserker was having alongside it’s Master and without hesitation, the giant Servant proceeded to follow her instructions.

And as he kept going, Berserker’s hearing could pick up a sound. But it was that of water streaming down and as they were closer, Heracles could see a small waterfall over there and as looked to the side, he could see a pond by the looks of it.

Illya sat back on Berserker’s shoulder, watching the trees pass her by. Walking around like this, without a care, it could almost make her believe that the Holy Grail War wasn’t happening. That her Berserker was merely a very loyal servant, and not Servant, that there weren’t magi at that moment plotting a way to end her involvement in the fifth war.

Here, everything was peaceful. The forest might not have been abundantly full of life--many animals opted not to reside here as they could likely in some way sense the boundary field--but it still had some variety in plant life, at least. She was content to listen to the sound of Berserker’s footfalls and the quiet wind whistling through the leaves.

The white-haired homunculus perked up at the sound of running water--so she had been right after all! She leaned forwards, spying the little waterfall running up from what looked like a spring underground, feeding into a small pond that in turn joined a small stream that meandered further through the trees. She hadn’t paid enough attention to the property maps to know if the spring had been marked, but that didn’t matter if they were here now.

She slid down from Berserker’s shoulder carefully, crossing to the pond and looking in. “Oh, Berserker, look, there’s fish!” She pointed out a white-orange one that promptly disappeared into the depths of the pond. “Did you ever catch fish, Berserker?” she asked, rather conversationally, despite knowing he couldn’t really offer a coherent answer.

#maguskingswarriors #v: holy grail:lonely vessel

tinyholygrail reblogged

leorexfilius

@tinyholygrail

Yet, thou serves with thine eyes clouded in chaos. Thou, bound in the cage of madness. I am he who commands these chains.

The armored form had been reborn into this world chained twofold. Not only by magic, but by the manacles that shackled him to the walls and floor.

Again…

After the last of his body had fully materialized into being from the summoning, the first thing he felt was-

Chained again… Controlled again…

With the clink of metal on stone, he shifted, and pulled, rage growing with every unsuccessful attempt to wrench himself free.

Another pawn… another weapon…

Berserker strained against his chains and bellowed, a primal scream that echoed through the halls. Red mana flared up like a bonfire, lightning crackling across his armored form cloaked in shadowy wisps of smoke, arcing to slam into the walls with enough force to send bits of stone flying. With another shriek of rage, he wrenched his left hand hand enough that the stone the chain had been attached to came flying out of the wall, missing the white haired and red eyed girl that had been standing in front of him by bare inches, miraculously unharmed by his outburst.

I WILL NOT BE USED AGAIN!

“̵̷̡ ̴̕͜͝ ͘͜͢ ̸̸̛͘ ̵̕͘ ̷̨͘͝͠ ̨̨͠͝ ̵͠͝ ̵͘ ̀̕͡ ̴͡ ̶̨̕͝͝ ̶́͜͠ ̵̀̕͟ ҉̡͢ ̵͏ ̷̶̢ ̡̛͜͞ ̵̢͢ ̶̀͢͝ ̸̡̛ ̢͘͘͜ ̵́ ̴̸̷̢͞ ̴͞ ͜͡ ̨̡̛̛͢ ̷͜ ̶͝ ͘͘͟͏ ̧ ́͜͏͏ ̸̶̡ ̨̧̢̀͡ ̵̀ ̸̵҉̡ ̸̸̀ ̸́ ̵̧͟ ̧҉̢͘͡ ̢̨ ̡̨͜͡ ̶̧̀̕͜ ͘͢҉ !!!”

Illya had been expected to call forth a Berserker-class Servant; and in that, she had clearly succeeded. There could be no other class for this Servant, screaming in rage and trying so desperately to escape his bindings. Her family would have the mad warrior they had striven to find; a mad Servant could not betray them, could not reason to betray them.

This was a Berserker, but... She could feel it, the drain in her prana reserves as her body accepted supporting the Servant’s continued existence, even without the aid of the Holy Grail, but even that kind of exhaustion wasn’t enough to keep her from noticing something off about the Berserker she had summoned. The catalyst had been for Heracles, the ancient Greek demigod, and she had every assurance that her grandfather wouldn’t have mixed up something like this, when it could impact their chances in the Holy Grail War.

The white-haired homunculus’s eyes narrowed as she studied the Servant’s form. But she had noticed that Berserker was wearing armor, armor the likes of which looked closer to stylistic depictions of medieval Europe rather than ancient Greece. The catalyst should have been correct, so why wasn’t she looking at Heracles?

She did her absolute best not to flinch when a piece of rock, ripped from the wall by Berserker’s flailing, came hurtling past her. “Berserker!” she said sharply, drawing herself up to her full one-hundred-thirty-three centimeter height and knowing in that moment that she had to bend the Servant to her will--she’d prefer not to waste a Command Seal, but she’d do it if she had to-- “That’s enough out of you! You are my Servant now, and I am your Master!”

#leorexfilius #v: holy grail:lonely vessel

tinyholygrail reblogged

mondartmusen

{ ◗ } -

Nodding compliantly, Leysritt followed along with Illya’s march. Of course, so far as it concerned her, the store had swapped everything around since Illya had last come along. How unnecessary! How could they expect customers to find their way around when they moved everything so drastically? It certainly didn’t help the maid out any, not with her limited skills of navigation and intuition.

Regardless, however, the homunculus tagged behind, not overly bothered by the mix up. After all, even if they didn’t know where they were going, she liked to be able to walk past and take in all the sights. The modern, every day setting was so different from the secluded forest castle that made up the majority of Leysritt’s knowledge and basis of her understanding of what life was. It wasn’t all just finely-polished marble and stone, big, empty and forlorn windows and lifeless, spacious hallways- There were bustling store filled with cheap electric lights and a variety of colorful and probably unnecessary items for sale. It was common, accessible, contemporary- Made for and used by normal humans who didn’t use magic, much less know it existed. Nothing at all like the strictly utilitarian Germany, with it’s uniformity, pure white existence. Leysritt thought the different, unfamiliar world within Japan wasn’t bad at all.

As they walked, the maid spied a child desperately trying to convince their mother to buy them a plush animal of some sort. Stopping in her tracks, Leys watched intently as she chided the little one to put it back, prompting a mournful walk back to where they’d retrieved the item. Blinking slowly, she looked over to Illya, before quietly breaking away to follow where the unhappy child had gone.

Though she hadn’t entirely known what to expect in following them, the homunculus was rather pleased to find herself in front of a large selection of stuff animals. “Illya, I-” She turned, but stopped herself as she processed the fact she’d gone on without Illya. Oh, right. She pondered if she should attempt to go back and find her, or proceed in finding an animals which Illya might like. Thinking on it for just a moment, Leysritt began investigating the animals around her.

She knew Illyasviel didn’t like cats, so all of those were off the table- But, the downy soft stuffed dog that was even bigger than Illya herself…Would she like that? Well, there’d be no harm in showing it to her, right? Thinking so, the maid removed the animal from the shelf, having no problem keeping a hold of it with her exceptional strength. And so she continued doing, plucking stuffed toys large and small alike until she could no longer hold them, and could barely see past her giant, lumpy haul of plushes. Surely, her young Mistress would like one of these. As if unburdened entirely by the collection in-hand, Leysritt made her way out of the aisle, and began a wandering and aimless search for the little lady.

Illya tucked the chocolates under her arm, walking onwards and holding the appearance of having every confidence in knowing where she was going, even if the truth couldn’t be further from the fact. There was more junk food down this aisle, with plenty of chips and crackers and a wide variety of cookies. Briefly, she contemplated getting more food, but also, she needed Leysritt to carry the stuffed animals, too, whenever they found them, so it would be best to stick to just the bag of chocolates.

She wove around a knot of people clustered by the end of the aisle and kept walking, scanning the nearby signs for any sign of stuffed animals. After the junk food, to the left, it looked like it was progressing from food to more games and such, so stuffed animals had to be around there! Unless whoever had designed the layout had put stuffed animals somewhere else, and then she’d start to wonder whether or not someone was just playing a terrible, cruel trick on her. She hadn’t even done anything recently to deserve being deceived, anyways!

The white-haired homunculus turned in place, saying, “Hey, Leysritt, I--Leysritt?” Somewhere between getting out of the last aisle and this one, her maid had disappeared. “...Leysritt?” She circled back, glancing down the aisle she’d just come from, but there was no sign of the familiar Einzbern maid uniform among the groups of Japanese people dressed in a more modern way.

Well--well, maybe Leysritt had seen some stuffed animals somewhere? That was what they were looking for, and it wasn’t like Leysritt to deviate from a goal. So she made her way towards the games, passing by puzzles and board games and a variety of large plastic things that were probably games of some sort that she simply didn’t understand.

When she got to the end of the aisle that did, in fact, have some stuffed animals, at first she thought there was a living pile of stuffed animals coming towards her. It took her a few precious seconds to realize that, no, that was just Leysritt carrying a large pile of plush toys and probably not even noticing the odd looks she was getting from passerby. “Leysritt!” Illya called, to get her attention, mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure the maid could see around the pile. “Which ones did you find?”

#mondartmusen

tinyholygrail reblogged

graceful-cure-swan

Despite the awkwardness of the current situation, Tsubasa at least appreciated that she was recognized as being of Japanese descent. After all, her decidedly Western hair and eye color had been a little bit of a sore spot in life.

She was also grateful she could just call the girl in front of her “Master” because dang, that name was long! Not as long as a certain blue-haired friend she had in life, but still pretty dang long. Tsubasa was sure she’d end up screwing up the name sooner or later, so it was definitely a good thing she wasn’t going to use it.

“This probably won’t matter, but my True Name is Tsubasa Mizuno…” she told the other girl, mainly out of politeness. It was only proper to give her name after the other person did, right? Although, right now Tsubasa wanted to prevent this bad situation from getting even worse.

Should she even tell her Master about her Noble Phantasm right now? No, that would probably make her disappointment even worse, considering how insanely cutesy it was.

Seeing as she had no other choice, the blonde followed the other girl through the snow.

“…May I ask where we’re going?”

Illya considered Caster’s name for a moment; it sounded just like an average Japanese name. It could be a fake, sure, but Caster did at least somewhat look Japanese, hair and eye color notwithstanding. And she could have dyed the hair or something, and there were supposed to be ways to change eye colors, right? So considering appearances, Caster really did look just like an average Japanese girl, so the name suited her in that respect.

But Illya had also never heard of a Tsubasa Mizuno--well, she was pretty sure that it was being rendered into the Western format, because Mizuno sounded more like what she thought a Japanese last name should sound like. So ‘Tsubasa’ had to be the girl’s first name, she was pretty sure. Still, she hadn’t ever heard of anyone like that, so what did that mean for Caster’s legend? What great deed had earned her entrance into the Throne of Heroes, and why hadn’t she manifested as that ‘greater’ self?

The white-haired homunculus rubbed her hands together, following the faint tracks of her footsteps coming here. If she was really concerned about getting lost, she would follow the leylines back to the castle, but right now she could still see her footprints. Caster’s voice speaking up from behind her brought her mind back to the present. “We’re going back to the castle,” she answered, not even thinking of calling it her ‘home’ even though she had lived there all her life.

She pointed up over the ridge, the snow-covered trees looking ominous against the overcast sky. “It’s over that way, but it’ll take a while to get there.” She couldn’t say in kilometers how far, because she had never been told how far away the catalyst had been placed, but it certainly felt like it should be a great number--but probably wasn’t, just felt like such because of how short she was.

“...Unless your Noble Phantasm can increase your speed?” She glanced sidelong at Caster; she wasn’t incredibly optimistic, but despite her inherently average appearance, it was entirely possible her Servant could showcase some great power. It would be nice not to freeze nearly as much as she had expected to on her way back.

#gracefulcureswan #v: holy grail:lonely vessel

tinyholygrail reblogged

egaohitotsude

Sakura has been concentrating on the books. She hadn’t considered about Illya finding her way to where she is. Being a usual costumer and visitor in this building means that she’s familiar with every nook and corner of this mall. The last time she was confused about the direction and the locations of each store is over a year ago, when Shirou first brought her to the mall. Ever since then, spurred by the desire to help Shirou out, and the growing personal desire to actually better her cooking, she has been visiting this place of her own free will. Almost here every day just to get ingredients and cookbooks.

She’s leaning over the table of books, looking through the various recipes present in all the books, even talking to a fellow customer. The stranger is happens to at least have some experience in Chinese cuisine and its cookbooks, so she asks some advice. Which sadly proves to be ultimately unhelpful.

Knowing that the specific cookbooks used wasn’t as good did not aid Sakura in deciding which ones are good. The books, being split into the two categories of Specialised Types of Chinese Cuisine, and Generalised Beginner’s Guide to Chinese, means that she has to pick one immediately.

In the midst of all the conflict in her mind, thought occurs to her then. She could… buy each of them. One general and each of the specialised types. But it’s a thought that she quickly waves away. That’s the safest option, and if she could, she would have went for it. Having a shelf full of cookbooks is not something that she would dislike. However, Sakura doesn’t have the money in order to do that. The Matou household is pretty well to do, but Sakura doesn’t like to approach Zouken for more money. Especially not when her motive is essentially out of jealousy and envy for Rin and her relationship with Shirou. ( If Shinji hears about this, it’ll be bad… ) With the money that she has… – she mentally checks the average cost and calculates – she can only get a maximum of about three books.

With all her attention focused on flipping through the books, she barely notices when Illya’s back at her side. At her words that seemingly came out of nowhere, she nearly jumps out of her skin. She laughs though, at the distasteful wrinkle of her nose, as she places the book down, and picks up the other. “Um,” she starts awkwardly. “I… Me too. I’ve seen her cook Chinese but I’m am not sure. Nee-san might be familiar with all kinds of Chinese cuisine, so I’m… having a dilemma of my own.”

A brief glance-over at the books again before she flips open the one she’s holding. She’s down to the last three books on the desk. “I was thinking of getting three… A dim sum guide, and then a Sichuan one, and… also a general one just in case. What do you think, Illya-san?”

Illya grinned at Sakura’s surprised reaction to her question--clearly, the Matou girl hadn’t been paying attention. She hadn’t thought that the cookbooks would be so incredibly interesting as to keep somebody from noticing her presence, but apparently it was so. She even picked up one and flipped idly through it, but the combination of long strings of kanji and the fact that she had never been all that interested in cooking made it seem even more boring than she had originally thought, if that was even possible.

She set the book down, feeling more lost on the idea of Chinese cuisine than she had before and being mildly irked about it, before returning her attention to Sakura. And, quite frankly, she didn’t even know what Sakura was talking about. She heard the words, certainly, and given her grasp of spoken Japanese was significantly better than her written Japanese, she could reasonably say that whatever Sakura had said was supposed to be different kinds of Chinese cooking. What any of it actually meant was beyond her.

The white-haired homunculus frowned. It seemed like neither of them knew what kind Rin was proficient in, so that was a concern. Still, if they were going to make this work, they’d have to pick something, and whatever Sakura had, it had to be better than nothing, right? But, also...

“Are you sure only three will be enough?” she asked, crossing her arms and scanning the books again, gaze skimming right over all the unfamiliar kanji. “If neither of us know what Rin makes, then wouldn’t it be better to just--get them all? That way, we can be sure to come up with something that Rin hasn’t done! She can’t have that many Chinese cookbooks, the Tohsakas are running out of money anyways!”

That was a fact she gleefully upheld over Rin as much as she possibly could, so she was certain that wasn’t wrong. But--oh, maybe it was that Sakura’s family was becoming poor, too! Illya tried to recall if the Matous did anything in particular, but if she had been told at one point, she hadn’t deemed it important enough to remember. “Ah, I see,” she said, answering her own question, “you only have so much money, don’t you? That’s why you’re only picking three!”

#egaohitotsude #(Illya is too smug about all her money holy geezums)

tinyholygrail reblogged

nobudemon-a

nobudemon

Nobunaga liked that her master kept the talk in Japanese. As a servant, she knows all languages to surviving a Holy Grail War, but the care of her master is really welcome. It is a good start. Archer knows now, the girl would not treat her like a tool, but a real and important ally.

The girl talks good and she looks smart. That is strange to see a small girl acting so diplomatically. Nobunaga blinked. This family, Einzbern, is really rich. Probably, they would not like if their child acts like a delinquent. Archer remembers her own education. This is an oppressive education.

The servant did not expect for an information like that. Nobunaga is not the most lovely person and, when she was alive, a lot of people hated her, but the Einzbern family it is not the same case.

“Well, I think your grandfather has a personal reason for his… dislike of Japanese. I am not asking for an explanation for this. I just hope he does not disturb our relationship, master”.

Archer does not know what to do with this grandfather. He is an important person, the leader of the family. Why is not he the master? Is he afraid to die? What a pitiful man. He just hides himself, while her granddaughter fighting in a war. Sending a child to a battlefield… it seems he does not have another option. A daughter, a son, an older granddaughter… the little girl is the last hope of him. Nobunaga gritted teeth. She does not like this old man.

“Let me ask you, master, do you have a wish for the Holy Grail, or do you fight because your grandfather wants the Holy Grail?”

Nobunaga wants an honest answer. She would not follow a weak master. Archer wants an ambitious master, a great leader, not someone’s puppet.

Illya considered her Servant’s words. Oh, she knew very well the reason for her grandfather’s hatred of Japan in general, and she had no intentions of explaining that complicated idea to Archer. Her Servant might well find out about it anyways, through the exchange of past memories in the dream cycle, which would spare her any explanation at all, but...

There was one thing. A part of her had always understood that she would eventually leave the wintry castle of her birthplace and travel to Fuyuki for the sake of obtaining the Holy Grail. And her grandfather had never left when her parents had gone, ten years ago. So that meant that Jubstacheit would remain in Germany while Illya and her Servant--and probably her maids, too--went to Fuyuki to fight in the Einzbern name. She knew he wouldn’t be happy at the thought of her summoning a Japanese Servant, when so much trouble had been gone through to obtain the catalyst for Heracles, but did that mean he would entirely oppose the Servant that had been called by the Holy Grail?

The white-haired homunculus frowned faintly. “...As long as you are strong, he should be able to look past your origins. And he stayed in the castle during the last war, so he should do the same this time, too. It’ll just be us in Fuyuki. It won’t matter what he thinks then.” It wouldn’t matter, because she would either find the path to the lost miracle through the Holy Grail, or become the vessel herself.

“Hm?” She supposed she should have expected Archer’s question--it was probably the most predictable question a Servant, or Master, could ask, that of another’s wish for the Grail. She turned to face her Servant, meeting Archer’s gaze head-on.

“I’m not fighting for my grandfather.” He had prepared her, certainly, but she didn’t entirely think she was fighting for him. She was to seek the lost miracle, to obtain the souls of Servants, to serve her purpose--and there was still that burning vengeance, that scar in her heart that wished for Emiya Kiritsugu to pay for what he had done. He couldn’t anymore, but Emiya Shirou was fair game as far as Illya was concerned.

“I want to reclaim what should be mine, my birthright as a member of the Einzbern family, and getting the Holy Grail is the only way I can do that. And--” Maybe Archer didn’t need to know this, but if Illya was going to be able to go off and kill that Shirou for both the sins of her father and for keeping Kiritsugu in Japan, her Servant would probably be helpful. “--and I’m going to destroy the one who took my happiness from me.”

#nobudemon #v: holy grail:lonely vessel

tinyholygrail reblogged

counterfeitguardian

Fiyah had to stop himself from outwardly groaning, the trek Illya had just described sounded like a massive pain in the ass. “Full disclosure, it sounds like a hassle, but I’m still going to do it.” He answered, sighing. “Well, let’s get going, before something silly happens and derails the whole trip.” The Thief added, knowing full well there was a high chance of shenanigans. Then he stopped, turning back to look at Illya. “Wait, was all that just your way of saying you want a piggyback all the way there?”

Illya hadn’t really expected him to change his mind, but it had been worth trying anyways. And it wasn’t as if she’d been lying about how to get there--it really was a hassle, and that was probably by design, to make the Great Grail more difficult to find--even if it might seem like she was trying to get out of going. Just because she hadn’t been there, didn’t mean she personally wanted to see the source of her pain from the end of the war.

Actually, a part of her wasn’t even sure what would happen should she step foot near the Great Grail. Presumably, the link between the two Grails had been sundered by Saber’s sword, which was what had allowed the collected Servants’ souls to escape their container. And there wasn’t a Holy Grail War going on, so the Lesser Grail shouldn’t have any need to behave any differently than it was currently. Still...

The white-haired homunculus’s train of thought was promptly interrupted by Fiyah’s last comment. “Ex--excuse me?!” she hissed out, one eye twitching ever-so-slightly. Where on Earth had he gotten that ridiculously stupid idea?! She had said all that about how hard it was to get there just to point out that fact! Fiyah was still practically a stranger, just what kind of person did he take her for?!

“The only reason I explained all of that was to show you how troublesome it is to get there! Not for anything else!” Just because she usually had ulterior motives in saying things, didn’t mean she always did that! And certainly not for anything like what Fiyah was suggesting!

#counterfeitguardian

tinyholygrail reblogged

accidentalphenom

“We don’t all take the same class, most people take different lecturers even if they aren’t part of that department…I tend not to because the other teachers don’t seem to like me much…”

Flat’s voice had trailed off, but then he brushed it off with laughter. “Oh I’m sorry! I forgot to introduce myself!” He held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Flat Escardos of the El Melloi School!”

The Escardos family was fairly well-known in the magic world for their great age–but that was all they were known for. Despite the age of the family, they were hopelessly average at best. Even by the Clock Tower, they had been known as “moldering antiques.”

So they did have other classes here, and it was just that they were divided differently. She didn’t know anything about departments, or how that related to school classes, but she had never been formally enrolled in any kind of educational program, so that came as no surprise. She wasn’t about to comment on whether or not the teachers liked him, because that was pointless when she didn’t even know anyone outside of him here, and maybe Rin.

She couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at his name, though. Really, what kind of parent would give their child a name like ‘Flat’? Unless it was meant as more of a musical reference, but one would think that the other definition would come up more often when most people probably weren’t incredibly familiar with musical scales and such.

The white-haired homunculus slowly shook his hand, since that was the polite thing to do, and Sella’s etiquette lessons had to have stuck somewhere in her brain. She had heard of the Escardos family, but it was only a vague kind of mention, especially when her grandfather hadn’t cared much about other magi families, and had only been focused on retrieving the lost miracle that was forever beyond their reach.

She gave a slight curtsy anyways, introducing herself. “I am Illyasviel von Einzbern.” She had no school she belonged to, so she couldn’t quite return the introduction in kind, and it was silly to say that she was of the Einzbern family when she had already said as much with her name alone; she couldn’t very well say that she had been the Master of Berserker, either. “--So why is it that the teachers here don’t like you?” she opted to ask instead, hoping there was an entertaining story behind it.

#accidentalphenom

tinyholygrail reblogged

mortalshinobi

The lancer sighs, it seems he has taken up with a master who has… something of a temper about her. She should know better than to be here, out in the middle of the snowfields like this with only her shift and no shoes on her feet, but if not…. well, he’ll watch for her in such a way as well if need be.

“I’ll set you down when we are inside somewhere where you won’t be cold any longer or feel the snow beneath your feet. I’ve known many men… and children to lose their toes and fingers to frostbite. I’d rather not my master join those who have done so,” he says quietly in a serious tone. “you won’t be very able in the war if you’re trying to adjust to disabilities from such matters.”

And he’d have to watch her closer if such occurred so best to simply avoid such he thinks as he nears the castle, drawing closer.

Illya gritted her teeth; it wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t had time to prepare! Her grandfather had only said, ‘Go summon your Servant’, and even though they both knew it was too early for the Holy Grail to be actively preventing the world from erasing Servants’ existences, here she was anyways! And she couldn’t even be sure if the reason she’d received the wrong Servant--and wrong class at that--was because of the time or if the catalyst had been incorrect!

She crossed her arms. Her Servant clearly thought of her as only a human magus, even if her prana reserves were significantly greater than any normal human magus’s could be, in this day and age. All that talk about frostbite and such--it wouldn’t matter, because her grandfather would just have her body repaired. It wouldn’t be pleasant, sure, but that didn’t matter, either. She wouldn’t be having any disabilities in this war. She was the Einzbern’s greatest creation, their pathway to the Third Magic, and she wasn’t going to fail.

The white-haired homunculus didn’t really feel like enlightening Lancer of this, though, mostly because she didn’t know how he would react. If he was concerned about her getting frostbite, then he would probably have issues with how that would be resolved. So she remained silent as the guards opened the gates, allowing them inside. One of them was probably going to report to her grandfather, but she was still likely required to show her face and prove that yes, she had summoned a Servant, even if he wasn’t the one they had gone to such lengths to obtain.

“Put me down,” she grumbled, though less loudly, so that no one got the idea that she couldn’t control her Servant. “I have to go speak with my grandfather.”

#mortalshinobi #v: holy grail:lonely vessel

tinyholygrail reblogged

the-fourth-goddess

Despite her rather stubborn personality, Peorth recognized a stalemate when she saw one, and so far her interactions with the white haired homunculus proved anything but productive. And considering that she was the immortal here, it was her duty as a goddess to back off a bit and allow the situation to deescalate to a degree. After all, she seriously doubted that a continued confrontation with Ilia would yield anything short of a humiliating disaster for her, and thus Peorth had to make some concessions.

It was not the first time she was dealing with a difficult customer, and the worst thing to do was to simply push on, until this girl had had enough of it and demanded that she left the area. And judging by the looks of it, her strategy seemed to be working, although… it was still way too soon to celebrate. She and Iliya were far from friends -nor she hoped to achieve that in such a short period of time- but at the very least, the rose goddess wanted to get on amicable terms with her.

Until… she -more or less- got accused for offering to help her with washing the Jenga pieces, only due to her having… ulterior motives. “That’s… not what a first class goddess is supposed to do, by the way. We’re not permitted to lie, and besides, fixing a game is too petty for me. Sure, I do want to win this, but at the same time, it’s not like I have an option, really. Even if I was such underhanded person -which I’m not by the way- then the mere fact that you’re a magi would easily expose such a silly plot. After all, you can inspect objects, don’t you?”

Taking the towel, Peorth stood next to the homunculus and started watched her wash the Jenga pieces, before she went ahead and dried them, one after the other. For a while, she merely observed the younger girl, watching the way she cleaned each wooden piece, and eventually a smile formed into her face.

“I see that you take good care of such possessions. That’s a nice trait, to be honest.”

Illya huffed, barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, and somehow managed to speak without sounding snide. “You talk about ‘first class goddess’ this, ‘first class goddess’ that, but you do realize I have no idea what that even means? How am I supposed to know what you can and can’t do, or even what you’re supposed to do? Sure, you’re supposedly important, sure, you’re here to ‘grant a wish’, you have some plant magecraft skills, you have that weird angel familiar thing, okay, but that’s all I know.” Normally, she was having to convince people that she knew more than one would think, but here she was having to do the exact opposite.

She started sifting through the blocks, rinsing them off and trying to rub away any potential stains. It’d be better if the blocks didn’t get stuck to one another somehow and lose her the game. A part of her thought maybe it’d be incredibly hard for a mortal to outcompete a deity, but also, there were plenty of myths about mortals finding ways to get around divine retribution, so--she should be fine. Besides, she’d never heard of a Peorth in mythology anyways, outside of the rune.

The white-haired homunculus couldn’t help raising her eyebrows at the implication that she’d be able to find a curse overlaid onto an object. “If you’re looking for someone who knows about curses, ask Rin. My skills aren’t really suited to that.” The flow and transfer of power had little application in any of the direct curses she was aware of. “And even if I was really, really good at it, I’d think a deity would be able to make it so the curse wasn’t detectable by mortal eyes to begin with.”

Of course, she didn’t know what Peorth’s skillset could be considered, if plant-type magecraft, or well, magic she supposed, like from the Age of Gods, was the only thing she knew--that and appearing randomly in people’s houses and bypassing the boundary field entirely--or if she had anything else up her nonexistent sleeves. One would think a goddess would know all kinds of things, but Illya didn’t even really know what kind of goddess Peorth was supposed to be.

Peorth’s voice interrupted her musings. “...Take good care of such possessions, huh,” she murmured, finding it almost funny. She didn’t clean much at all, because Sella and Leysritt did that for her. “If you say so,” she said at last, unable to come up with anything else, and realized she’d gotten to the bottom of the pile; all the blocks had been cleaned off. “Let’s get this game going, shall we?”

#thefourthgoddess

tinyholygrail reblogged

wroughtironhero

Daughter of Winter

tinyholygrail

wroughtironhero

She falters. Something seems to crack through her shell. The burden she’s carrying, the pain she’s always kept locked away within herself, it looks like it’s finally proven too much for her.

Illya is my senior by a few years. As a magus, the difference between us is far more precipitous. The precocious little girl with a sadistic streak is just a facade. The real Illyasviel von Einzbern is a magus of staggering knowledge and power, a master of the arcane above any ordinary human attachment.

Or rather, that’s what she wants people to think.

As her protest dies before its completion, I wrap my arms around her and cradle her there like I can protect her from everything.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Having her here so close to me, it’s that much more plain to see. The Einzbern, the Holy Grail, and all the other magical nonsense she’s mixed up with don’t make a bit of difference. Beneath all the deception, all the posturing, all the lies she tells herself to make her inevitable end even somewhat more bearable, Illya is just a sad little girl who misses the mother and father she lost. It was all stripped away from her. I’m the only one she has left and she didn’t even know me before she lost everything.

I’m a fake. A foster brother who only reminds her of the father who left her behind. An ever-present reminder of that broken promise.

But even so, I’ll stay by her side. I’ll stay by her side until the end because I know how much worse it is to be alone. Even if I can’t save her, even if I can’t make us a family, even if I can’t be her superhero, I’ll be her brother and make her smile for as long as I can.

“You’re home now, Illya. Everything’s going to be okay.”

It’s a lie. We both know it. But for this moment, the truth is just too cruel to be accepted.

That’s why I’ll hold her and lie through my teeth to her for as long as she needs me to.

It’s okay. That was a lie, Illya knew, and she thought Shirou probably knew it too. It was a lie, but it was a lie they both wanted to hear, and maybe even needed to hear, so she didn’t try to contradict him. If it was something comforting, when they had had such troubles in the past--wouldn’t it be wrong to take that from him, if that was what kept him from seeking out some way to spare her that untimely end?

She leaned into his embrace, carefully folding her arms around him--not completely, because her arms were woefully short compared to her brother’s--and curled her fingers into his shirt. Shirou was comfortingly solid, compared to all those memories she’d clung to over the years, of mostly her mother’s hugs but sometimes, rarely, of her father’s. And Shirou was her family too, her brother, even if they hadn’t grown up together, even if Shirou had never met her mother, or seen the old castle.

It was probably better that way, that Shirou had never seen her ancestors’ land, or visited the old castle. Surely, he would have found it difficult to agree with--to comprehend the lengths her grandfather had gone to, in order to obtain both Berserker and the ways the Einzbern family had attempted to reach that lost miracle. The Third Magic had been their goal for so long, and now it was unreachable.

The white-haired homunculus’s eyes fluttered closed. It was reassuring, almost, to hear Shirou’s voice, to hear his heartbeat. He was here, now, and wasn’t that the part that mattered? You’re home now, Illya. Home, home... That was--that was here, wasn’t it? It certainly wasn’t the old castle, not anymore, even if those words were what she’d wanted to tell her parents--Welcome home! Even if she’d thought that part of her long gone...maybe a piece of her still remained.

“...I’m home, Shirou,” she found herself whispering, and it didn’t feel like a lie. It didn’t feel like a lie, and maybe that was because it was something she wanted to believe. She wanted to believe it, so it became a kind of truth. She knew it wasn’t going to stay that way, but for now, in this moment--that was the truth.

#wroughtironhero

tinyholygrail reblogged

cantusecho

Hibiki wasn’t 100% sure about her attack hitting or not, but due to some strange occurrence that forced Illya’s character to suddenly turn the opposite way, it actually connected. These sort of big, slow characters had tons of defense and strength, while her character relied on agility and speed to whittle away at her opponent’s health bar.

Illya obviously was frustrated at the action, which caused Hibiki to cough out a little chuckle. Because of that, Illya’s character started moving towards hers again, forcing Hibiki to quickly reposition her hands and fingers to cover the controls and attempt blocking it. She was lucky with the first two, yet quickly found herself trying to attack at the wrong moment when Illya’s character was literally swinging towards her. That attack alone was enough to get her below half.

“I think he heard you, hehe. And now he’s mad and got my character good!” Hibiki joked, now leaning further over the controls of the arcade machine to try harder. “Okay, time to go all out!” If she was on her last leg of health, she might as well try to chip off as much as she could before her character got K.O’d. So despite how foolish it may seem Hibiki pushed her character forward, now attempting all sorts of button presses, mainly punches, towards Illya’s character.

Illya huffed. “He’d better have heard me!” Oh, it really was like having Berserker again, though this one is a poor substitute for her ever-loyal Servant. At least Berserker could be assured to have heard her, even if he didn’t necessarily always comprehend everything she said. He had been an insane Servant, after all.

She focused back on the game, quickly looking over how much of each bar at the top of the screen was left--since it degraded with every hit made, it must be some kind of counter for the health of the characters. It looked like Hibiki’s had less, but not by a lot, and Hibiki’s was also faster, so it might not even make a difference that Illya’s had a slightly more yellow-green color.

The white-haired homunculus narrowed her eyes, staring hard at the screen. She still wasn’t entirely sure how the controls worked, but a swift glance at Hibiki told her the other girl was clearly just mashing buttons randomly also. So it came down to chance, to who hit the right button at the right time.

She grinned. She may not have been terribly lucky, but she thought she could do this, at least. And she pointed her character at Hibiki’s, launching him forwards while having him swing his club in wild arcs. Since she hadn’t quite figured out defense, that’d hopefully keep his opponent away.

#cantusecho

tinyholygrail reblogged

blastingfusetothisworldsend

“Ufu~” Reika was still laughing at Illya, but less so since there wasn’t as much to react to. A shame, since the girl was obviously getting really flustered. Reika had hoped she’d be a bit more expressive with her disdain. The sneeze was kind of cute, at least.

Reika’s eyes followed the direction of Illya’s fingers, looking towards the buildings off in the distance. Oh, so there was a mall nearby. That’s lovely. She hadn’t given the area around her much observation, having been busy with transporting herself across worlds and all until just a moment ago. The office buildings were pretty useless, but the mall itself would certainly be interesting.

Only one problem… Having just arrived, Reika had no money. The girl with her probably had some cash, given the expensive clothes she wore… but her size made it look more like she had rich parents. Maybe she still had a lot of allowance money. Reika was certain she could mooch off of the girl somehow, once they were dry enough and Illya had cooled off.

“Very well~ Shall we head there now, or do you wanna keep getting those fancy boots of yours soaked? You might wanna hurry—if they get too wet, I hear boots like those start making a gross ‘squish squish’ sound every time you make a step, and that’s gonna make people start looking at you weird. Wouldn’t want that, right?” Her own shoes were pretty wet, but they weren’t thoroughly soaked thanks to her already having an umbrella.

Illya knew that Sella always complained when she went around buying things she didn’t need, but she felt in this instance, buying another stuffed animal could be forgiven. This day had turned quite miserable, what with all the pouring rain, and she felt that the only way it could reasonably be turned around was through buying a stuffed animal. That, or tormenting Shirou, but she had to pick what was within range and, well, getting to Shirou’s house in this weather was something of a tall order.

She cast a side-eyed glance towards her companion at the other girl’s comment. “I’m pretty sure that’s all boots, not just mine,” she couldn’t resist saying, in the most pointed manner she could accomplish. “And who cares what other people think? Their opinions aren’t important anyways.” At least, random humans’ opinions definitely weren’t high on her list of priorities.

The white-haired homunculus started walking, as quickly as she could manage without sliding in the mud. Thankfully, the road between the mall’s parking lot and the old park was relatively deserted, so she didn’t have to be concerned about possibly being run over. Now that would be annoying to explain to Sella!

She made sure to stamp in some puddles along the way, to wash off any clinging mud from her shoes--and no, there wasn’t any squelching noise, definitely not!--and walked inside, sitting down on a nearby bench to make an effort at squeezing out at least some of the water from her coat and hat. It was more because wet clothes were harder to carry around, and not because she thought she’d actually change the water content any; she glanced up at her companion idly. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She had no idea what that girl had even been doing in the park before they’d met, so she probably had somewhere to be, one would think.

#blastingfusetothisworldsend