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empty-dream · 7 years

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Me watching Fate/Apocrypha ep 10

Sieg: *trembling while holding the sword* “Fight me!” Mordred: “Learn to hold a goddamn sword first”

Astolfo: “Dude I did not suffer for this!’ Sieg: “Really sorry about that!” Mordred: *send them both away with one blow* “gET A ROOM”

I’m choking Mordred is definitely pulling a “Are you serious? Right in front of my salad sword?”

Wow Sieg’s glare is pretty chilling. Finally some depth on his on screen appearance.

In addition, it’s when he declares his new name and his existence, so good job.

Caules and Fran getting on the hit-them-when-they-talk bandwagon.

You thought regular looting is bad? Try heart looting.

Hello to the people who come here thinking Jack is hot innocent loli, behold she is actually blood-splattered lunatic scavenging dead hearts from dead people.

The idea of the most famous serial killer being an apparition shaped as little girl dressed in futuristic stripper outfit bathed in blood and corpses while fiddling with a Nokia 6000 series is WAY BEYOND WHAT I COULD EVER COME UP IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

“Our new room” more like “room we literally kill people for”

Jack: “Okay mom, bye bye!” *Naruto runs*

How is that walking metal armor not electrocuted by Fran’s lightning that’s some EX magic shit going on here

Caules hon that’s not what I’d call acting with discretion.

‘Third-rates’ wow Mordred your trash-talking actually hurts huh who did you learn from? Gawain?

I just realized that since Clarent is powered by Mordred’s hatred for Artoria, then it basically runs on the power of emo LOLOLOLOL

Well all is funny until she blows everybody several yards away with it.

Yo Mordred do yo always go and see people and be like “this one is homunculus, this one is not”??

On the other hand, good job A-1 at showing explicitly that Fran is indeed not a homunculus nor a human but a true artificial creation.

I don’t like saying this but Mordred, if you want an enemy real dead, go for the head.

I think she was all about decapitating people before so why suddenly just stabbed?

Um nice try Sieg but don’t you see that metal armor is like this thick and Mordred is like Terminator?

The sword looks like a toothpick jammed lightly it’s awkward now

Mordred angrily turns red, literally.

Remember that Astolfo saved Sieg just because he could? Now Sieg saved Astolfo simply because he saved him.

Ugh getting stabbed by that huge-ass sword should hurt A LOT huh

It’s been like two days out of the castle and Sieg experiences death. AGAIN.

Sieg you need to stop dying this is not Supernatural.

I guess Mordred’s characterization is definitely aimed to be jarring between the savagery she displays in battle and the chivalrous nature she harbours as a knight.

Astolfo: “HOW DARE YOU KILL THEM?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD LANCE?!”

That’s some chilling scream Astolfo

Kairi: “Did you make sure she’s dead?” Mordred: “Dude I stabbed her with giant sword like in the torso” Kairi: “Shit boi did you forget this is a magic war? People sparkles when they die!”

Fran’s mace: *standing up ominously* Mordred: “Weird” Me: Maybe you should be called “The Knight of Obviousness” instead of “The Knight of Treachery”

Fran: SURPRISE BITCH THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME

Fran taking strangling with bare hands to a whole new level

Wow the mace suddenly floats, does some clicking, whirling, becomes green, and now it looks like green thunder chupa chups

Uh as much as I hate Celenike, I can’t disagree with her saying ‘stand back and don’t get roped into a suicide bomb’

But I guess if she doesn’t force Astolfo he’d definitely bolt to the ground zero trying to get a better ending that’s just like him

At this point, it’s pretty clear that none of Fran Al-Qaeda-ing her way is Caules’ command.

But instead he just understands her and gives the last command spell to boost her, no matter how painful of a decision it is :(

Wow does using the last command spell always induce flashy tron lines and sharp lightning?? Is this the Apocrypha style? Last time I see people do that, it’s just dramatic wind.

Caules’ glasses breaks and cheek gets slashed only adds the dramatic tension. And it looks cool in gif.

hOLY CRAP THE BLOOD TURNS INTO FLOWER PETALSSTOP IT STOP THE FLASHBACK IT FUCKING HURTSSSS

It’s bad enough if a dying person’s life flashes before their eyes bUT IT’S ENTIRELY ON DIFFERENT LEVEL IF IT FLASHES BEFORE THEIR CLOSE PARTNER’S EYES

Fran gets super pissed at Mordred she decides to talkIt’s actually a bit funy that everybody from the author to the animators making sure people notice Fran’s lightning pierces Sieg like ‘yo reader it’s important clue for our protagonist’s powers!’

Wait I just notice the role of the Berserkers from both faction is literally the same: to become servant bomb

At least Fran goes out in a beautiful electric explosion tree........

Astolfo: “Please be dead please be dead” Mordred: “...Yo...Hhh... Surprise....hh...bitch-” Astolfo: “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?”

Caules babe :’’’(((((((

He’s such a good master he honestly thought he screwed up and let Fran die in vain and he couldn’t do anything for her even until the end

In the novels, from this point on, everything about Caules and Fran will just hurt like a bitch.

Okay let’s cut the sadness and LOOK SIEG’S HEART BEATING

Siegfried appears!!!!!

I kinda forget that bathing in dragon blood means he’s actually covered in blood from head to toe that’s pretty disgusting if given more thought.

So Siegfried’s previous life was literally on the range of ‘national hero’ to ‘professional killer’ to ‘matchmaker’

Sieg: “You lived your life as a wish-granting machine but do you ever have a wish yourself?” Siegfried: “Dude you’re like born months ago don’t throw existential crisis on me right now”

Siegfried: “Now let’s get back on you. Do you have a wish?” Sieg: “....Uhm..” Siegfried: “See existential crisis doesn’t feel good.”

Siegfried takes Sieg from aurora field to dragon dungeon so Sieg’s ego grows like wow that’s hardcore

What is this? A King Arthur play? Sword in the stone??

It’s mandatory to have a fate anime with somebody dramatically decides on a life purpose and dramatically pulls out a sword.

You know, I’ve always liked Balmung’s design. It screams ‘WILD HERO’ and it’s got this badass design and color and sheath. In fact, it’s the third place in my heart after Durandal and maybe-not-suprisingly La Pucelle

That’s why I’m THIS close to be angry that it appears like a cannon fodder sword but thank God it transforms

Mordred: “Wew that was close!” Kairi: “Don’t ‘wew that was close’ me that servant you called third rate just nearly deep fried you if I didn’t bail you out and now I’m tired”

Astolfo be like “My friend is dead, my other friend is dead too, my other other friend is also dead, and now I’m facing a terminator why God”

Sieg!Fried: *standing ominously under the moon* Mordred: “Master, he’s dead right?” Kairi: “Yeah I heard so” Mordred: “Well now we have The Walking Dead”

I think I just squealed hearing Sieg!Fried’s asking “Are you okay?” that sounds so gentle and so hot at the same time?????

Sieg!Fried: “Are you okay?” Astolfo: *blush* “Baka” Mordred: “GET A FUCKING ROOOMMMMMM”

I love how chill Kairi is when facing this anomaly he’s like “Dude, it’s magic war, anything can happen”

Mordred you don’t get to call Balmung a cosplay sword when Clarent also looks like a gigantic cosplay sword

And cut to Shakespeare giving comments as usual. Do Semiramis and Shirou have to watch every battle while listening to his narration?

HAHA Semiramis has to place her hand palms up because of the spikes WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY?

Hm I kinda don’t know what to make out from Shirou’s words but I presume it’s about Sieg should just live like a pure baby he is instead of letting that purity dyed in everything good and bad in being human?

If that’s so, it’s a big hint of Shirou’s goal, no?

Shirou’s practicing if-looks-could-kill without even trying

Semiramis and Shakespeares are such good friends to Shirou they notice him look evil in a matter of seconds

Shirou be like “I thought my feelings are all secret but guess not I should perfect my poker face” just like his servant. Truly a match of heaven.

Lol guys that boy you just declare worthless will be the final man standing against you lololololol

Indeed Shakespeare is the Genre Savvy™ as expected of THE playwright

Mordred: “Master what’s his weakness?” Kairi: “His weakness is ‘Do your best and find out yourself’” Kairi is such a lil shit I love him

And there you have it the first battle scene in the first episode

Y’know, the novel describes Balmung as emanating orange light like the twilight when activated but the very same novel also illustrates it with vivid blue light and it’s making me having the existential crisis since forever

Balmung vs Clarent Blood Arthur more like Let’s nuke each other

Aw they skip the calling the name of the noble phantasms if you ask me I prefer if they include it in this episode too

Oh now it’s Sieg’s command spell on the closing title and with completely different background and SCATTERED FLOWER IS THE TITLE OF THIS EPISODE THANKS FOR REMINDING ME AGAIN THAT IT HURTS ):

Fran’s dead, Caules cries, my heart really hurts

Trust me, the novel version is far worse than the animation. The narration from the moment Caules notices what he has to do to his reaction after her death is just painful. All the root cause of it all? It’s because they care for each other. Even he acknowledges that.

Oh yeah and also Fran dies with a little smile while speaking those words in the novel, kinda different vibe with the anime version

In the novel, the Siegfried’s flashback also reveals his one wish: To become an ally of justice a.k.a. the same dream possessed by the Kiritsugu and Shirou Emiya. Now it may differs from each person but for me personally, while it serves as a driving force to Siegfried’s character, it’s also yet another a form of homage (or maybe long running serious gag?) to both Fate/Zero and Fate/Stay Night. Whether it is good or not to omit that from the anime, I can’t really say....

NEXT: I think we need some Jeanne now. Hopefully not Naruto running again.

#fate apocrypha #random saying #fate apocomment

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suchthingbutnever · 7 years

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Weird Time Travel Sends 21st Century Hipster Jon To The Wall (a.k.a., what I did at 3 A.M. last month)

So, this was an idea I had in the middle of the fucking night and I literally sat up and wrote five pages before I went back to sleep. It's Hipster!Jon navigating Westeros , maybe with Robb somehwere in there. Ahem.

It was absolutely fucking freezing when he woke up.

For a couple moments Jon remained where he was, refusing to open his eyes. He had one hell of a headache pounding away viciously at his temples, echoing the base of the pretentious minimalist techno they had played at the second flat party.

“Fuuuck,” he said with a croaky voice, laughing a little bit at himself. How was it so effin’ cold?

The heating had been broken for maybe a month now, and Jon had been too busy and, admittedly, also too lazy, to have someone come fix it. It was always easier to pile on layers and retreat into the cavern he called his bed, Netflix at the ready for another five episodes of Breaking Bad.

It wasn’t like any of his flat-mates were keen on the job, either. Leah had even said something along the lines of the seven degrees Celsius in their kitchen being romantic. She was crazy, that one.

“It’s fucking freezing,” he said to himself out loud, and sweet mother Mary’s G-string, his joints felt stiff. London wasn’t supposed to get this cold – foggy, yes, wet and uncomfortable as fuck, yes. He was born and bred in Yorkshire, for that he had been more than prepared.

But not this unforgiving, semi-arctic cold.

He opened his eyes, and blinked a few times. Then he closed them again, squeezing them shut and counting until nine and three-quarters.

Then he sat up abruptly, taking in the… the, room? Was it a room? Or a dingy cupboard? It seemed like he hadn’t made it home yesterday after all. Damn Haz and his fucking penchant for cocktails. Jon was usually more than good at holding his alcohol – hmm, so maybe he had overestimated himself. Too much booze could really mess with a lad.

“Oh fuckity fuck, it’s cold.”

He was sitting on a narrow single bed, with a really shitty mattress, and the blankets that had covered him appeared to be fur. Real animal fur, maybe like, from a bear? Or something else brown and shiny. They smelled really musky, which, ew.

Now that was just absolutely disgusting. Jon knew for sure that most of the people he ran with were at least flexible vegetarians.

He stared at the rest of the room in disbelief – housing in London was godawful, alright, but this was just way below acceptable. Jon wouldn’t rent the room even if they gave it to him for free, with a flat-screen TV on top.

Well, he’d say no after thinking about it really hard, at least. Living space was damned expensive, you could hardly blame him.

However he got here, wherever this godforsaken place was (probably way in the outskirts, so he’d have to get a bus to get to the tube), he needed to hightail it back to his own flat, because his thesis was still sitting in his laptop, waiting to be written, re-written and deleted. He really shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, fucking Haz and his uncontrollable dance-drive after three pints.

Jon started patting around for his clothes, especially his jeans. He really needed to find his phone and call Haz and maybe Ian, so he could find out where the fuck they had ended up. Also, Robb had texted him last night, at three in the morning, and Jon had almost flipped and texted him right back.

“Are you mad, ey? When was it ever a good idea to text your straight-boy crush back drunk off yer arse?” Ian, in his violet leotard and his scary going-out-tonight heels had stolen his phone away, laughing when Jon tripped over a beer bottle trying to get it back. Of course, now he was really thankful that his friends had prevented him from destroying the weird, tentative thing he had with pretty straight-boy Robb, as they all started calling him.

“PSBR”, for short.

Jon let out a frustrated growl, because his clothes from last night – a dark blue shirt, his favorite black jeans that made his arse “a subject of worship”, quote Ian, and whatever the hell he had bothered to put on underneath, all of it was gone. Instead, he was wearing a really scratchy linen top that looked way beyond the usual levels of organic.

And it was still really, really awfully cold.

He padded towards the rustic wooden door, complete with iron hinges, noting how rough the stone beneath his feet was. Pushing it open with difficulty, he found himself in yet another way-too-dark room, this one larger and stuffed with scrolls and old-looking leather-bound books, the type Leah used for her expensive medieval fantasy Cosplay. A fire was burning in one corner, a real fucking fire built from logs of wood and twigs that made cracking noises.

“I see you are feeling well again, my boy?”

“Holy fuckin’ Jesus Christ!” Jon jumped so high he might have crashed against the narrow ceiling of the strange place. Behind him stood a man, an old man so crinkled and wizened he was a whole head smaller than Jon. He was wearing a fur robe, long and jet-black, while around his neck hung a weird chain, each link a subtle, different colour. It actually looked really cool. Nice one, Grandpa.

“Hi, sir. I’m… uh, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you. I’m just looking for my phone. And my trousers, to be honest.” Jon put on his best polite face, cringing and dying a thousand deaths inside.

The old man remained silent, his wrinkly face quite blank. Then Jon got a closer look at his eyes, and realized they were an unfocussed, milky blue. The man was not only old, but blind as well.

“Hey, uhm. Sir? I’ll be on my way in a second, no worries, I just really need to find my phone. It’s an iPhone 6 with a grey case… oh, never mind.” Jon felt like smacking himself against the head. The man couldn’t see jack-shit, and here he stood describing his phone-case. With an uncomfortable jolt, he realized that he needed to find his keys and wallet as well. This was just getting better and better.

“Jon, why won’t you lie down again? I shall have Chett prepare some milk of the poppy, it seems that you need it.”

He froze at that. First off, why did this strange man know his name? Second, why was he using such a gentle tone with Jon, as if he was speaking to an emotionally unstable child? And third – “What the fuck is poppy milk?!”

Jon immediately felt bad for the outburst. The old man was probably just as confused as he was, yelling really helped no one. His mum had not driven him to expensive therapy sessions twice a week for nothing.

God, his mum. He really needed to call her back. She had left a voice message yesterday morning, all “How is my favorite gay son? When will you come back to Leeeeeds and visit me with your gay partner? Surely we won’t need to wait til gay Christmas?”

Her enthusiastic approval was well-meant, yeah, he got that.

Jon shook his head, toes slowly going blue from the icy floor. He needed to tail it, ASAP. He turned towards gothic grandpa, and found that he had tottered closer, reaching out as if to touch Jon’s forehead.

“Milk of the poppy is the most commonly used anesthetic in the Known World, with pain easing properties. It shall give you swift dreams, and ease your fever.” What a strange accent the old man had – and weird grammar, too. But then again, he seemed positively ancient.

“You want to give me opium?” Jon shook his head no, laughing. “And I’m definitely not running a fever, I really just need my stuff…”

A door to their left opened, and a gust of wind blew in, so terribly cold that Jon thought his ears and nose might fall off from the sudden, blazing pain. It was fucking snowing outside – and it had barely been below ten degrees these past few days. Global warming really was a bitch.

“Jon! You have woken, at last!”

A large teenager with a round face and a ridiculously furry black coat stepped in. He beamed a happy smile, in his hands a tray covered but smelling strongly of hot grease. It sort of turned his stomach, but Jon was really more focused on remembering where all these people knew him from.

Was it the drugs? He had only popped the usual E last night, courtesy of Haz and his dodgy contacts that sold them A-class weed every other month. Had someone slipped him something? Was it the super horny blonde guy with the silver eye-shadow who had mouthed at his neck? Was it… was it…

Instead of attempting to appear normal, Jon decided to try the direct route: “I’m sorry, where do I know you from?”

It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Brothers on way with their duty stopped and stared as Jon stood bare-footed in the court yard and gaped at the Wall, a mighty presence towering above them, as it did every day.

Sam had set down Maester Aemon’s meal and hurried out after him, only to see him fall down the stairs leading towards the Rookery in an undignified half-slide. Jon, who was the most collected and capable of all the recruits, who wielded a sword better than anyone Sam knew.

“What. The. Fuck.” Jon bellowed, hands reaching up to wipe at his eyes, “What. The. Actual. Fuck.”

Sam approached him gently, laying a hand on his shoulder: “Jon? Jon, come inside, will you? Maester Aemon…”

“I should’ve never tried shrooms, alright?! It was summer and everyone was doing them, and they are like, plants, natural plants! I’m literally so fucked right now.” Jon had turned to him, his eyes wild and desperate. “I’m seeing things.”

“Jon, what is it you speak of? Please come inside, you’ll freeze. Maester Aemon will give you sweetsleep, to calm you…” Sam hesitated briefly before steering Jon towards the stout timber maester’s quarters with added force. A quick glance around told him that more of the black brothers had gathered, some grinning and japing at the utterly disgraced, confused bastard of Winterfell.

Sam shot them dark looks.

“Where do I know you from? Like, really, was it last night? Did we have sex? You can just tell me, it’s fine – wait, are you even sixteen?” Jon was now looking at him once again, face drawn and pale, teeth chattering with the cold. “I mean you usually aren’t my type, but I literally remember nada, so…”

Sam quickly shut the doors, leading Jon towards the fire, gathering woolen blankets and heavy furs to pile on top of him. He made to stir the fire, adding a few logs. It wouldn’t do if Jon became seriously ill. If he was not already.

“I am Sam, … Samwell of House Tarly, Jon, you must know me. I… you’re my friend.” He gestured helplessly, reading the bewilderment in Jon’s gaze. “You took a hard fall while training at arms last morn, you were out of sorts, but Maester Aemon said you merely needed to rest, exhaustion, he said. Do you truly recall nothing?”

“We were to take our vows,” he added in a small voice, and for a moment dread filled his guts. Jon had been his first true friend, not only at Castle Black, but in all his life. Well, at Horn Hill he’d had his mother and sisters. He missed them desperately still, the small affections, the way his sisters would crowd around him for stories. Though not having to face Father, still soaked in deer’s blood before his mind’s eye, was a true blessing.

“What vows?” Jon asked, eyes squinted and gazing into the fire. He had, at least, ceased to shiver so violently. “Sam, it’s Sam, right? Can you please tell me where the hell I am,” he gulped down a shuddering breath, “and how I can get back to Brixton?”

Sam looked Jon straight in the eye, searching for a glint of recognition. Yet the man sitting before him was so utterly, completely at odds with the person Jon had been only yesterday. His voice had changed, ever so slightly, and the words he used were strange and foreign. Mayhaps Sam was going quite mad as well, but kneeling close to the fire, gazing steadily at his best friend, he seemed queerly… off.

“We are at Castle Black, Jon. Where is it that you want to go?”

“Home?” Jon laughed manically, gripping the furs covering his shoulder and pushing them away. “I’ve no recollection whatsoever of how I got here, yeah? I am fucking trippin’, to tell you the truth. Someone must’ve drugged me, whatever. I just need my phone.”

Sam was quite speechless at that. A “phone”? His “phone”? What did he mean? What was he missing? Then Sam perked up, and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing the furs to pile on top of Jon, once again.

He needed to find Ghost.

#asoiaf #fanfiction #jon snow #hipster #time travel #idea in the middle of the night #samwell tarly #maester aemon #cold as fuck #snippet #i just needed to post this #robb stark #pretty straight boy #gay

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