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historical

Fate: I Just Want to Die and Sit on the Throne of Heroes

I crossed into the world of Type Moon and, for some reason, the Root itself recognized me. As long as I die an abnormal death, I can ascend to the Throne of Heroes and become its lord, an existence stronger and freer than even the Seven Grand Servants. So, in order to die, I started acting like a complete fool across the Nasuverse. I cursed Gilgamesh to his face in Uruk, challenged almighty Zeus in Greece, openly kidnapped Skadi in Northern Europe, proclaimed in Israel that Solomon was a demon god instead of a holy king, and even stood at Morgan’s side in Britain. Yet for some reason I am still alive. By 1994, Fuyuki City, history has given me a ridiculous list of titles: the third friend of the Most Ancient King, the first prime minister of Mesopotamia, the man favored by the Greek gods, the king of giants in Northern Europe, the incarnation of God who awakened Solomon’s humanity in Israel, the miracle worker supported by Prince Camelot. On top of the Fuyuki Bridge, a young yet world weary Lovi sits on the railing, staring at the city lights and sighing. “Tell me, what exactly went wrong? Or you could just kill me here and let me finally ascend to the Throne of Heroes. Please.” Kiritsugu Emiya lights a cigarette, glances at Artoria holding the Holy Spear, at the treasury of the King unfolding beside Gilgamesh, at the crimson spear tip reaching out from the distant Kingdom of Shadows. The cigarette in his hand trembles slightly.
FanficLord03 · 1m Views

The Shadow of Great Britain

“Next, we have the most noble recipient of the Order of the Garter, the Grand Cross of Saint Michael and Saint George, the Grand Cross of the Bath, the Victoria Cross and the lower grades of Knighthood, the leader of the anti-colonial movement, the bell-ringer of the East India Company, the hero of the Crimean War, a Fellow of the Royal Society, a lifelong dear friend of literary giants such as Dickens and Great Dumas, a steadfast supporter of scientific luminaries like Faraday and Darwin, having served as assistant under-secretary, deputy under-secretary, and permanent under-secretary in departments of the Home Office and the Navy Department of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the inaugural Cabinet Secretary and head of the civil service, the first graduate and most distinguished alumnus of our school. Please welcome Sir Arthur Hastings to deliver a speech on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the University of London.” Arthur's gaze swept across the crowd before him, looking at the young faces and murmured, “Agares, what do you think I should say?” The Red Devil's wraith hovered behind him, saliva almost dribbling from the corner of his mouth, “Look at these ignorant souls; they still worship you as a hero. Why not say something they'd like to hear?” Arthur took a deep breath and let out a deafening roar, “Oxford is a bunch of whores' bastards!” “Oh!!!!” The audience erupted into thunderous applause. “Cambridge is the same!” he added immediately. The applause grew even more fervent... (The protagonist, possessed by a devil, travels through 19th-century Britain in a world without magic)
Chasing Time · 299.5k Views

Memories Like a Dagger

“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is like a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” — Anonymous Whistle remained perched onto his shoulder, black head cocked and its eyes even cockier. Kalani grinned though, despite his disheveled hair. Training against loud noises had been going well, and it wouldn’t be long till they officially moved to the city. Anticipation made his heart fly high. Finally… his family would move to the illustrious Nael, capital of the kingdom of Karst. Yet the world beyond those small routines was far less gentle than the stories suggested. Kingdoms and tribes hid their violence well, their dangers flowing quietly beneath polished surfaces. You didn’t need to dive in to be taken; brushing against it was enough. And so ‘They’ took everything. What remained of him was sealed away, buried where names lost their meaning. Revenge required survival, and survival required obedience. Then she appeared. Not as rescue, and not as hope, but rather as something that didn’t fit. She moved through his world without caution, wings catching air where no fresh wind should exist. Her optimism wasn’t comforting. It was reckless. He told himself to ignore her. Yet he found himself noticing details he had long trained himself not to see: the rhythm of her voice, the way she tilted her head when thinking, and how she flew free like how he used to. He never looked at her for long. “This changes nothing,” he would murmur, though the words rang increasingly hollow. His emerald eyes lingered a second too late, following the outline of wings he knew he should not reach for. Objective first. Always. And yet, some costs are harder to measure than others. … Update Schedule: 2 chapters every month Cover found on Pinterest; artist unknown ;~;
SolAce · 115.5k Views