Same as Drama, I'll put a Table of Contents here:
Memories/Dreams/Nightmares
Not the Welcome She Was Expecting
Same as Drama, I'll put a Table of Contents here:
Memories/Dreams/Nightmares
Not the Welcome She Was Expecting
Last edited by Milbunk; April 2nd, 2013 at 03:32 PM.
Title: Memories/Dreams/Nightmares
Author: Anon
--------------------
Hey, I’ve been having this dream lately…
…This nightmare that keeps coming.--------------------
“Get away from me!”
The man took cover as the crates in front of him exploded. His target was beginning to get worried. Hysteric. Desperate. He had chased him all throughout his base, avoiding spells, disarming traps and slaying monstrous familiars much to the man’s shock. Killing the magus was proving to be quite the challenge though, and since he had finally been cornered and boxed in that desperation encouraged him to put up more of a fight.
Shirou didn’t notice the feral smile he had on his face as he waited for the man to stop casting. Finally, the man’s magecraft ceased and all his harsh breathing echoed through the abandoned warehouse.
“Why? Dammit, why?!” The man hissed as he thrashed about. His fearful eyes darted to and fro, trying to spot his assailant. “Why can’t you just leave me be?!”
The hero of justice scoffed in disgust at the man’s words. As if he didn’t already know. The man had sacrificed innocent lives in his experiments. For the sake of his research, he had killed. It was not something he, a hero, could forgive. He was sure this man had committed unforgivable deeds.
“Trace on.”
The magus screamed, overhearing the words and interpreting them as his death sentence. They most likely were. Shirou revealed himself, hurling the two beautiful swords he projected at the magus. The man shielded his face with his arms, but the swords passed right by him. Not feeling the impact of the swords gutting him, the man tentatively lowered his hands.
Another scream was ripped from his lungs when Shirou tore through the man’s chest with a second pair of the same swords. The man’s prolonged scream was cut off by two short gasps as the first pair of swords dug into his back, bringing to the ground. In spite of the punishment he had taken and how much he was bleeding, the man still drew breath.
Shirou regarding the villain with a disinterested look, raising one of his swords in the air to strike down at him…
…Wait, she wasn’t a man. His target was a woman. He didn’t know how he had forgotten that. And the reason she hadn’t already been killed was because it was he had taken out her legs with his crossbow. He had never gotten a chance to close in with his swords…
Right?
“…Why?” The woman asked again as blood poured from her lips. “I never… I never did anything to you. Everything I did… it had nothing to do with you. So why are you…?”
The woman’s body convulsed and choked as her lungs filled with blood and the light left her eyes as her life bled away. Shirou gazed at the woman’s corpse, dropping his swords to the ground. He didn’t try to remember why he had projected them when the woman was taking her dying breath. Maybe he had wanted to put her out of her misery. Then again, he’d projected the swords so often now it was almost like a reflex.
…Had he even used projection, or was he imagining things? It was too hard to remember.
It didn’t matter. Now that his business was done, it was time to move on. The hero had saved many lives by taking one. That’s how it was…
Right?
--------------------
It’s a long, long dream…
…It’s a horrible, horrible nightmare.--------------------
“…Thank you.”
Shirou snapped out of his reverie when the woman thanked him. Why was she thanking him?
…What was he thinking? She was obviously giving him thanks for saving her and the others that man… woman… that magus had been terrorizing. He had saved them all… hadn’t he?
“…Why did you do it?”
Shirou glanced at the woman, noticing the confusion and unease on her face as she regarded him. Shirou frowned to himself, wondering why she was showing him such a face. The woman turned away, cheeks flushing as she proceeded to elaborate on her sudden question.
“W-What I mean is… there was no reason for you to help us. You just showed up and… it’s not that we’re ungrateful, but…”
The woman continued to trip over her words as she attempted to deduce the reason for his actions. Shirou felt confusion at that. What was there to understand? He had saved them. They were in trouble. They needed help. So he helped them. He saved them. What was so hard to understand about that? It was just that simple. Surely they could understand that…
…Right?
--------------------
You and I are in it…
…And I can’t seem to stop it.--------------------
Shirou shook his head at what had become just another memory. Another job. Another life taken. That mission in that small town had been completed weeks, no, months… a long time ago. It had been just another mission in a string of jobs he had tasked himself with. There was lots of trouble in this country. Many villains.
And as a hero of justice, it was his job to make sure they were all stopped.
…Stopped.
“Yeah… I stopped them.” Shirou muttered to himself.
He should’ve been happy with that. It was strange that his victories seemed so hollow. Maybe it was when he remember that particular mission, he wondered if he could’ve…
The grunted in frustration as he ran his hand through his white locks. There was no point in remembering the details. What was done was done, and he had saved as many people as possible doing what he did.
Right?
Shirou started a bit when he realized he what he was standing in front of. It was a door. A door that led to the inside of the house he was staying at during his time here.
The house they were staying at while he was taking care of his business here.
He paused in the motion of reaching for the door handle, grimacing when he realized that she would probably give him quite a mouthful for being gone for so long. She always got like that whenever he went out. He knew it was because she was worried about him, but that didn’t stop her from chewing him out when he decided to disappear off to one of his jobs. He would argue that a hero couldn’t rest or take it easy when there were people suffering in the world. She just whined about him being stubborn.
“She’s the stubborn one…”
After all, she had stuck with him all this time despite everything. Even if she yelled at and berated him for his actions, she still smiled at him. Even when everyone else had left him… even when he had left everyone else behind…
…She stubbornly stayed with him.
…
…
…Well, he was in no mood for it today. He was tired, he didn’t want her talking his ear off as she scolded him, and his head was hurting from trying to remember everything he had done during the past few days. Weeks. Months.
Bracing himself and preparing to rebuff her, Shirou opened the door and stepped into the house.
“WELCOME, HOME!”
“…”
Shirou stared nonplussed at the woman who cheerfully greeted him. A beatific smile stretched across her face as she spread her arms out as if she intended to embrace him. Her eyes went up and down, scanning over his form before her expression became more pouting.
“…You’ve gotten into a lot of trouble again, haven’t you?”
Shirou’s eyes narrowed at her tone. He opened his mouth to retort, but her words bowled right over his.
“But that’s okay! The important thing is that you’re back safe and sound!” She chirped, clapping her hands together happily. “So tell me, what would you like first? Dinner? A bath? Or perhaps…”
She gave him a coy look, hugging her body with her arms as her tone became much more sensual.
“…You’d prefer me instead?”
The flat look he gave her in response conveyed his irritation. He honestly would have preferred it if she had yelled at him. At least then he could’ve had an excuse to vent. Fed up with her antics, he pushed past her.
She dropped her arms as he moved past her, hiding the look on her face from him as the door closed behind him. She chuckled softly to herself.
“You’re no fun…”
Shirou didn’t respond. He had barely taken two steps past her before she grabbed his arm and jerked him down the hall, leading him into the kitchen. When she was talking normally when she spoke to him again.
“Well, you’ve got to be hungry at least, right? I had a feeling you’d be back late so I cooked up some dinner for us.”
“…I’m sorry?”
“Don’t make is sound like I’m punishing you. Here.”
She pushed Shirou down into his seat. The food was already set on the table, all ready for him to eat. He noticed parts of the meal that were a bit burnt, but it was certainly better looking than her other attempts.
…He appreciated her effort, but he really didn’t have much of an appetite. He had too much to think about…
“How should I greet you next time?” She asked him as she took a seat beside him. “I saw on a cartoon that guys are supposed to get excited when a girl greets them like that. Clearly you have different tastes, so what would you like me to do instead?”
He was sorely tempted to put an axe through the television if it meant preventing her from picking up anymore strange habits.
“The show was actually pretty funny though. The characters were so weird but it things really entertaining.”
If she thought the characters were weird, then why had she been trying to mimic them…?
“So where do you want to go once you’re finished up here? I was thinking we could go to America. I bet we could find lots of fun things to do there!”
Shirou’s fingers began to curl as he remembers the missions. Why was she acting so carefree? Acting like things were normal. What he did was…!
The woman stops talking when Shirou slams his hands down on the table, pushing himself to his feet. He stares downward, not meeting her eyes. Eventually, he speaks.
“…I’m not hungry.”
He leaves the room. The woman stares after him with a sad expression.
--------------------
We both wear deep red clothes…
…We both wield pairs of beautiful swords.--------------------
The hot water cascades down his skin as he bathes. He decided a shower would do well to cool his head. Maybe get some peace and quiet while he tried to organize his thoughts.
But of course, he wouldn’t be left alone. She never left him alone when he wanted to be.
He’s motionless as she gently caresses his scalp, shampooing his hair and soaping his body as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She even hums a little tune to herself. She’s as naked as him and he resolutely ignores her teasing requests to help her wash her body. He doesn’t care. Eventually he shuts off the shower and steps out of the tub. She follows him. He snatches the towel away from her when she attempts to dry him. He can dry himself. She dries her own body and once their done he just stands there, facing away from her.
“…I save lots of people.”
He suddenly tells her this. She nods, even though he can’t see her.
“…I had to kill them. They would’ve hurt more people if they were left alone.”
“I know.”
“…But they had friends. Family. People who cared for them. They got in the way, so…”
“You did the best you could.”
“And the people I saved… they asked…”
His expression twists up.
“Why?”
Shirou clenches his fists.
“What’s with that?” He demands, growling to himself. “I save them, right? They should’ve been happy, right? I killed for them. I saved them when no else wanted to. I didn’t need a thank you, or gifts, or anything really. But when they asked why I did what I did… why I helped them…!”
Such a question…!
“Why does that make me so angry…!”
He stiffens when he feels the woman’s arms wrap around him.
“It’s okay…”
The woman whispers as she softly hugs him against her. The man just stands there unmoving, frustrated by his own ideal that somehow contradicts his wishes.
“It’s to be expected. It’s no wonder they don’t understand you.” The woman says to him. “You appear out of nowhere, saving people who don’t expect to be saved. You never reveal your motives, so they never know. They look upon you like something that’s unknown to them. They might even see you as a ruthless person. That’s why they’re confused. It’s because they find you strange that they ask why you’re saving them.
“But… I’m not-”
“I know… I know…”
The man finally looks back at her, though she can’t gaze back at him. She keeps her head bowed with her forehead pressing against his back as she speaks to him.
“You don’t save them for reward. You don’t have any motive for helping them. You save them because you can… but they don’t see that as a reason. Because of that, you may never be understood.”
It was true. He had no reason for helping people other than the desire to help them. He wanted to help them. It was as purely simple as that…
…Wasn’t it?
Yet, he knew. He had long since realized that people saw him as an anomaly. Even in his younger days when people had called him strange or weird, he had ignored or brushed them off. He simply went about his business, doing whatever he could to help those around him, even if the same people he helped gave him weird looks or talked about him behind his back. But he couldn’t do that anymore. His memories of the words and looks from those people were a curse now.
It was frustrating… that no one… no one person could…!
“But I understand.”
Shirou’s eyes widened in shock.
The woman finally turned up to face him, smiling lovingly up at him.
“You’re just stubborn like that. You try so hard to save everyone within your sight without worrying about yourself. I know it’s painful for you to see those you save give you those looks. I know it’s hard, spilling blood for the sake of an ideal that continues to contradict itself…”
It’s true. He just wants to save everyone… but he still kills in order to save those people.
“But… even if it’s painful for you, I still think of it as a beautiful ideal. It’s pure, like you. It’s something you pursue endlessly, something you chase after…”
He turns to face her now, but she bows her head again, resting her palms against his shoulders as she leans against him, the bangs of her hair tickling his chest.
“…Even if you leave me behind.”
He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t hold back anymore after hearing those words. After hearing the fear in her voice. The words pierce his body like a pair of swords, and he reacts almost as she had triggered a sort of hidden reflex. Before the thought had even registered in his brain, Shirou was moving forward. His arms moved faster than they ever had before, wrapping around her and pulling her close to his body. The woman gasps as she’s pulled against his hard body, and her eyes widen when she sees his head dip down toward her.
His lips crash onto hers as he gives her a fierce kiss. He hugs her body to his, pressing her against him and refusing to let go. The man’s arms wrap tightly around her waist, yanking her off her feet and pressing her against his chest. She moans into his mouth as they kiss, their tongues meeting each through their connected mouths and battle for dominance. She wraps her legs around his waist and he carries her, taking one hand off of her to quickly wrench open the bathroom door. He stumbles out of it as they continue to kiss, slowly making their way down the hallway to the bedroom. Shirou is grateful that the door to their room is already open, and even more grateful that their clothes had already been removed. His arms tighten around her, so much so that there isn’t in space left between them.
He didn’t know why he had gotten so desperate. So frantic. It was so sudden and unlike him that he briefly wondered if all of this was even real. Her soft, naked body flush against his, her tongue sliding sensually across his own, and her quiet moans echoing in his ears confirmed that this wasn’t an illusion. And if it was, it was a damn good one.
And definitely one he never wanted to wake up from.
They collapsed onto the bed as they continued to caress each other’s bodies and prolong their fierce kiss. His dark hands roamed over the pale flesh of her waist and back while hers crawled over his broad shoulders and chest. They didn’t dislodge their mouths from one another, taking short breaths during the brief moments where their tongues weren’t wrestling with one another. Eventually, Shirou broke away from the girl, panting like a dong in heat. His body leaned over hers, taking in her features even through the darkness of their room.
He was amazed by how clearly he could see her, marveling slightly at how the moonlight filtering through the window of the room illuminated her figure so. Her pale skin, still a little damp from the brief shower they had taken together, seemed to have an ethereal glow about it. Her long hair was splayed out over the bed sheets, hanging and circling around her head and shoulders like silk. As his eyes roamed up her body and towards her face, his hand reached out to gently caress her cheek. The intensity and vigor that had fueled him before seemed to have disappeared as he was captivated by her beautiful face and lovely red eyes. His face dipped down towards her once he noticed the wetness pooling on the edges of her ruby orbs. He placed gentle kisses on her face as he rubbed away her tears, whispering in a tone he hoped was soothing and gentle.
“…Don’t cry. Oh, please… don’t cry…”
If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was when the people closest to him cried.
Most of all, he couldn’t stand to see Ilya cry.
“Ilya.”
He whispers her name over and over.
“Please… please don’t cry…”
“I-I’m sorry… I just can’t help it…” She whispers, choking back a sob. “I… I just get so scared sometimes. You’re always running from place to place, never once stopping or taking the time to look at yourself. You’re too busy looking out for others. Who looks after you, Shirou? Who worries about you…?”
He smirks against her mouth as he briefly presses his lips against hers again.
“I thought that was what I had you for.”
“Dummy.” She pouts for a moment before her eyes cloud up with tears again. Shirou is quick to brush them away. “It’s just… I don’t want to be left alone. You were gone for so long this time…”
Was he? He hated that he couldn’t remember at the moment. How long had it been since they’d seen each other last? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?
He couldn’t remember…
“A-And I was afraid, Shirou. I-I was just so afraid that you’d… that you’d never come back…!”
His eyes widened when she pushed herself up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, bringing his face down and pushing her lips against hers in another ferocious kiss. He didn’t resist and met her with equal fervor, the excitement and vigor he had before lighting up like fire within him once again. They stayed like that for a while, his hands caressing and tweaking her body at their leisure while she ran her hands through his white hair. They continued to kiss, moaning against each other’s mouths as he pressed against her. She could feel his growing stiffness against her thigh, and her breath quickened just thinking about what was to come. Eventually, and despite a few quiet protests from the woman beneath him, Shirou moved downward, trailing kisses down to her collarbone and nibbling gently which elicted more moans from her. He continued to move his head down and stopped at the two mounds of flesh on her chest, moving his mouth over to one of her breasts and massaging the other with his hand. His tongue sucked and flickered against one bud while the other was gently played at with his hand. So caught up was the woman in Shirou’s ministrations and the sensations that came with them, she didn’t notice his free hand trail down and press his fingers against her sex. Her back arched as she felt his fingers caress and rub her folds, moaning and gasping as her clit and breasts were stimulated. Shirou brought his mouth and hand away from her nipples and moved his head down again with his lips hovering just above her stomach and dipping down to where his fingers had occupied themselves. The woman tensed as she felt his hot breath against her tender sex.
Her hips bucked upwards the moment Shirou ran his tongue against her folds and she threw her head back against the sheets as the sensation overwhelmed her. Her body shuddered as the pleasure and emotional intensity of the act combined. Shirou licked and lapped at her inner thighs and folds, tasting every inch of her. His lips latched onto her clit and sucked, holding her legs apart with his hands when they began to tense and buckle around his head. The woman gave a strangled gasp when she felt him press his wet organ inside her, licking and prodding the insides while lapping at the juices that were beginning to moisten her lower lips.
He continued to pleasure her orally until he was sure she was wet enough so that she wouldn’t be hurt or uncomfortable in the coming act. Shirou lifted his head up and positioned himself over her, gazing down at her face while her dewy eyes peered back up at him.
In that moment they were gazing at each other, Shirou paused to stare at her face. In his haze of passion and the way his mind was clouded by lust, he found it hard to place her expression. Was she still crying? Was she happy, or was she sad? Even with the moonlight aiding him, he just couldn’t tell. He just couldn’t remember.
He hissed and sucked in a short breath when he felt her smooth hand on his erection. He glanced down for a second to see her guiding him toward her, gently pressing his length against her wet folds before his eyes went to her face again. He uttered her name again.
“Ilya.”
“Shirou…” She whispered his name in return, her voice sounding desperate and pleading to his ears. “Please…”
Clearly, he had her permission. He slowly slid his thick length into her. Inch by inch he pushed his warmth deeper inside of her, and his body shuddered as the sensation of entering her rocked his body. He felt her shaking against him as he pushed inside her, rubbing against her hot walls as he slid all the way inside her. They kept staring at each other, gazing deep into each other’s eyes as Shirou pressed into her. Making love was not foreign to them. They had had sexual intercourse quite a number of times before now. But something about this moment, about what they were doing, the sudden need they both had.
That was it. As soon as Shirou had entered all the way insider her and after she had taken a moment to get used to it, the woman flung herself against him and the man began to move his hips against hers.
“Shirou…” She moaned into his ear as she pressed herself against him. “Shirou…!”
She repeated his name over and over again. He did the same, but her name was the word he continued to utter. He pumped in and out of her, swiveling his hips so as to feel every inch inside of her. His shaft grinded against her inner walls as she began to meet his thrusts with her own. He held her in place against him, his hands gripping her butt firmly and moving her up and down while she desperately clung to him.
When had her hands become so frantic? When had her kisses become so desperate? He was really beginning to wonder just how long they had been apart for. He just felt so… he couldn’t even begin to describe the sensation he felt. It felt like she was drawing him in, trying to keep him from letting go of her. This sudden need of hers, his quick actions, this anxiety that she had hidden from him, the fear that had bubbled in his chest when she said she was scared of being left alone…!
Never.
Never…!
NEVER!
As much as he wanted to say that he wouldn’t leave her behind…!
As much as he wanted to promise he would never let her go like he did the others…!
If he was given a choice between saving Ilya’s one life or the lives of everyone else in the world…?
…That was what he was afraid of.
But this moment was all that mattered. In this moment, he didn’t have to think about the world. He didn’t have to think about saving others. As far as he was concerned, they were the only two people in the world at the moment. And he just wanted to hold her as tightly as he could. To feel her. To let her know just how much he…!
Shirou choked back a gasp as he felt himself getting close. He held her supple body tighter against himself as they rocked against each other. Their breaths were getting harsher. Shorter. Their movements were getting faster. He could feel her moist walls getting tighter and tighter around him. Finally, Shirou pushed up and buried himself inside her to the tip. She threw her head back as her orgasm hit, bringing Shirou over the edge with her as he emptied himself inside her. She shook in his arms as he released inside her, falling backwards onto the bed just as he pulled out.
She lied against the sheets while he sat back on his arms. Both were panting from exhaustion. Shirou gazed at her quivering form for a moment before lying down and sliding next to her, pulling the sheets over their sweaty bodies as she met him in the center of the bed and cuddled against his chest.
“Mm… Shirou~”
He smiled slightly as she hummed his name happily. He was happy too… so happy that he had at least one person who understood him by his side. He never wanted to leave her… never wanted to see her cry…
…But that’s--------
He can’t promise he won’t leave her.--------------------
You look at me with such cold eyes…
…I point my swords at you.--------------------
Shirou is already dressed. He gazes down at her, still snuggled up in the sheets. He sighs to himself and heads toward the door. He pauses at the doorframe and looks back at her, giving her an apologetic smile.
“…I’ll be back soon.”
The man leaves, gently closing the door behind him so as not to wake her up.
So that she can’t see him leave her again…
--------------------
You turn your back on me and leave me behind…
…And no matter what I do, I can’t catch up.--------------------
The man who wanted to become a hero smiles derisively as his head suddenly floods with memories. He remembers old battles and missions, the faces of the people he’s saved and those he had killed. His actions are recalled with striking clarity but faces and details blend together. He can’t remember most of the people he saved or the people he had to kill. He only remembers the faces of those closest to him. The ones he abandoned.
Though amongst all his memories, she stands out the most. More now than ever. He remembers her and their time together perfectly.
Remembering is meaningless now, since all those battles he fought and the moments he shared are nothing but memories now. They serve no point. And even if he doesn’t care to remember, even if he tries to forget…
…That one memory still stubbornly chases after him.
His red coat billows out behind him as he faces down his opponent. He grips onto his two swords as he stares at the figure who stands opposite of him.
A figure dressed in red clothes similar to his, wielding two swords that could mirror his own.
Now, the man and the woman face off, pointing beautiful swords at each other.
And even if they share this dream…
…They can never wake up from this nightmare.
He is still alone…
…She continues to stubbornly chase after him.
-END-
Last edited by Milbunk; April 2nd, 2013 at 05:22 AM.
Title: Not the Welcome She Was Expecting
Author: Anon
When one has endured as long as Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg, one tends to pick up a number of titles and epithets that celebrated one's powers and abilities. Things like "Wizard Marshall" or "Old Man of the Jewels" or "Kaleidoscope" or (softly) "Dead Apostle Ancestor" or (very loudly) just "Arrrrrgh!" Things that spoke of his mastery of the Second Magic or the puissance of his magic use generally or the awe and fear in which others held him.
A wizard of such power and, more significantly, experience, learned to detect the slightest fillip of hostile intent directed towards him. The concept of a surprise attack became virtually inconceivable. Likewise, many magical defenses were in play to turn aside lethal assaults directed against him by accident, because bad luck happened and Fate or Destiny or what have you was, honestly, pretty much a stone bitch to be around.
Therefore, it had to be considered something of an unexpected event that Zelretch found himself standing in the middle of a Clock Tower workroom, face and robes blackened with soot, and tiny wisps of smoke rising from various points on his beard.
He cleared his throat, coughing into his fist.
"I would like to point out," he observed, "that when I said that I thought you had the potential to do things no magus had done before, I was not referring to finding all new and spectacular failures. Perhaps I should have been more specific?"
Rin Tohsaka did not answer him at once, being too occupied with the twin tasks of groaning in pain and extracting her head from a large brass cauldron to engage in conversation. Given that her head had gone through the side of the cauldron rather than using the pre-existing hole at the top, Zelretch decided to give her a pass on the delayed response. And rapidly Reinforcing her own body like that in self-defense wasn't actually bad work, he noted, particularly since she had to do it while still in mid-air before hitting the wall.
He tapped his fingers together while Rin pried the cauldron off her shoulders and her body out of the vaguely Rin-shaped indentation in the wall.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Miss Tohsaka?"
"Several somethings, actually," Rin muttered, getting to her feet. "Did you know it was going to do that?"
Zelretch examined his fingernails.
"Perhaps you believe that I enjoy giving my dry-cleaner an interesting challenge to liven up his day?"
Rin dropped the cauldron on the floor.
"Mind you," the old man continued, "in my way, I'm quite impressed. That particular arrangement was supposed to be virtually inert. In essence, you managed to force the mana involved to exactly invert its function while still using the original pattern of the summoning circle. Anyone can just screw up. Believe you me, I've seen plenty of that in my time. But this particular level of mistake is positively a work of genius."
Rin's ears burned. The heir of the Tohsaka family was not used to failure of any kind, let alone dramatically epic fails.
"What are you complaining for? Most of your apprentices end up dead or insane anyway, so at worst I'll keep your track record intact."
"A magus walks with death, and if you intend to become a magician then you'd might as well marry it." Rin winced at that, which Zelretch noted in passing as he continued, "If you were to strive for something at the very edge of human capacity only to fall back to earth with a thud from your own limitations, then that's what comes of not knowing yourself." He scratched at his beard, then added deliberately, "Kind of like that Icarus fellow. Always wished I'd known him; then I'd know for sure that my apprentices took after him."
Something stirred behind Rin's eyes. Zelretch being whom he was, he did not let a trace of the smug smile he was feeling in his mind show on his face. For at least two whole seconds, that is.
"On the other hand, ever since you came back from Japan last week, instead of trying to fly and letting pride exceed your sense when you get aloft, you've been...having trouble with catching that first updraft. Forgetting to properly strap on the wings. Getting confused and jumping off the wall with an anchor tied—"
"I follow the metaphor!" Rin snapped at him.
"Well, then, you ought to have some idea of what the problem is. The plain fact, Miss Tohsaka, is that I can't have an apprentice running about trying to self-destruct, even if you find creative and entertaining ways to attempt it. After all, for your sake I've allowed the various department heads to foist off their idea of an ideal apprentice on me. Three of them. Three little puppies all trying their very best to grow up into big, soulless war dogs like the rest of the pack."
He shook his head.
"Go back to Japan, Miss Tohsaka. Take care of unfinished business so you can think with a clear head." Glancing at the shattered gems lying at the intersection points of the ritual circle and the broken cauldron, he smirked and added, "Besides, if you have to keep replacing things at this rate, it's going to eat up what little budget you have left."
"...I am aware of this," she remarked through gritted teeth.
"Good. Then go fetch a mop and a pail and get started. Always clean up one mess before you start creating the next one."
"You're just full of mentorly wisdom tonight."
"Explosions always bring out that side of me. Now hop to it, because you're not going home until this floor is spotless."
~X X X~
I don't care if it takes me another hundred years, Rin decided. I am mastering the Second Magic. The sheer convenience of instantaneous transportation via parallel world rather than spending twenty-five hours crammed into a sub-economy seat on a series of airplanes was enough to make her ready to dedicate the rest of her existence to mastering this art.
The fact that her arrival on the Tohsaka estate in Fuyuki City was to faceplant into a mud puddle only slightly affected that exultation.
"Damn it, old man, I had to send what I was wearing out to be dry-cleaned, too!" she growled aloud.
At least she was at her own home, and her suitcase had settled neatly onto dry ground, so the damage was mostly to her ego and nothing a scrub, a bath, and a washing machine couldn't cure. It could have been worse.
Maybe that was why she found it so annoying.
Rin hauled herself out of the mud, wiped her face as clean as she could manage it, picked up her suitcase, and started towards the nearest door, which was the back entrance to the mansion. Looking up at the building, she could see how it had gotten the reputation of being haunted even without considering the effects of its boundary field. The old Western-style house at the top of the hill, inhabited by a family that kept to itself on account of its practice of magic and in recent years only by a single young girl, was the kind of strange and lonely place about which stories were told, where odd sounds were heard and eerie lights burned from windows that should have been deserted—
Like the library window was showing right then.
All at once, Rin's aggravation was gone and the instincts of the magus came rushing to the front. Shirou and Sakura were supposed to be keeping an eye on the place, but they couldn't go to the ends that someone who lived there could. Was the intruder there to pry into the magical secrets of the Tohsakas, or was it just an ordinary burglar after whatever cash value he could find?
Either way, there was no chance in hell they were going to violate her home and get away with it!
The rear door was locked; that and the darkened windows showing around the back told Rin the intruder had come, bold as brass, through the front door, or else forced an entrance through a window. She unlocked the door with her key and opened it slowly, noiselessly. She crept into the kitchen, stepping out of her shoes so that her footsteps would be silent in her stockinged feet, and Reinforced her eyes to improve her ability to see in near-darkness. She did the same for her hearing, straining to catch any sign of someone prowling about: a creaky floorboard, a too-loud footstep, an indrawn breath.
Nothing. The house was as still and silent as an empty tomb.
A shiver ran down Rin's back. She hated the metaphor.
Deftly, Rin crossed the kitchen and went through the door at the far side into the dining room. From there she crossed to the front hall, intending to make her way upstairs to the library, when—
Clinging to the wall alongside the stairs, there was a shape, moving, flowing down towards her. Without her enhanced sight, it would have blended in perfectly, gone completely unseen, and even so it was nothing but a living shadow, black on black and moving so fast. Rin flung herself backwards, rapidly firing Gandr curses one after another at the figure as it dropped. Her aim was off, though, the magical shots crashing into the wall as she was unable to track on the thing's speed. Reflexes she hadn't had to use for over a year had her dodging to her left and bolting to the stairs, firing while in motion another Gandr not towards where she thought the shadow-thing was but at where it would be if it leapt for her.
Hope flared up in her for a split second as the shot struck the figure somewhere in its midsection. It was snuffed just as fast as it had come, though, when the curse had no apparent effect at all on the shadow, and in the next instant it was upon her. Rin's body slammed back into the paneled wall, her arms wrenched up above her with an almost contemptuous ease, wrists gripped together with a single hand, and she felt the kiss of cold steel against her throat.
"And now we'll—Rin?"
"Rider?"
She realized that she was staring through glass lenses into jewel-gray eyes that were made even more compelling, somehow, by the strange square-shaped pupils. She also realized that she could feel the form pinning her up against the wall, the lush curves of hip and breast. It was a disturbing sensation, the way the stunning woman's presence forced its way into her awareness, overwhelming Rin's senses the moment she'd realized whom her captor was.
Then Rider had released her, stepping back away and dismissing the nail-like weapon she'd been pressing to her captive's throat. A moment later, she turned on the lights, and the black shadow became the tall, voluptuous woman Rin expected to see, with ankle-length violet hair and wearing a black turtle-necked knit shirt and black slacks.
"What are you doing here, Rider? Sakura doesn't have you here guarding against burglars, does she?"
Rider shook her head, the movement causing stray strands of her hair to shift at the edges, so light they seemed almost animated. It was easy enough to see how it could have inspired legends that it had been made of living serpents.
"No, nothing like that. I sometimes come here at night to borrow your library. Sakura thought you wouldn't mind."
"No, of course not. So, you heard me come in?"
"Felt would say it better. You were so stealthy, I believed that you were up to no good, and thought to discourage you."
"T-thank you," Rin said, "for looking after my home."
Rider smiled at her.
"Well, it's only natural. After all, I have Tohsaka blood in me, too."
Rin flushed hotly at the Servant's remark.
"T-t-that's not what I meant, you idiot!" she all but exploded. Unlike Shirou, who'd always flinch away from Rin's temper unless they were in the middle of something serious, Rider just chuckled while her sly little smile grew, obviously enjoying Rin's reaction to her double-entendre.
Damn it, and she was reacting, too. The tingling sensation coming from the left side of her neck hadn't been there before, coming not from physical response but from memory.
—the warmth of soft lips brushing her skin, breath teasing it, until she could feel the two sharp points just denting the delicate flesh—
"But why didn't you call to let us know that you were coming?" Rider was continuing. "You could have spared yourself an unexpected surprise, and we'd have gotten a bed ready for you." She let her eyes rove over Rin's mud-spattered figure. "Not to mention a bath and a change of clothes. What happened to you? You're all right, aren't you?"
The reminder of her current condition made a sharp antidote for Rin's momentary distraction; she looked down at herself under the light and realized that she was a complete mess. She'd left traces of it behind, too, when Rider had pinned her to the wall: streaks of brown marred the chest, sleeve, and thigh of the other woman's dark outfit.
This is so not how I wanted to come home.
"I'm all right," she said. "I just have a teacher who thinks he's funnier than he is."
At least taking her shoes off in the kitchen meant that she wasn't tracking mud through the house, though she suspected her back had left some on the wall behind her.
"In that case you'd better take a shower before you do anything else," Rider suggested. "Unless it's something urgent, I think you'll be a lot more comfortable that way. Do you have any bags with you?"
"Yeah, I left a suitcase outside on the back porch."
"I'll get that for you. There should still be plenty of soap and shampoo in the bathroom from the last time you were here."
"Thanks. I'll just patch up in here a bit and then go clean up." The mud on the wall could be cleaned at any time, but the damage caused by her missed Gandr shots blasting into the walls and the balustrade were a different story. Magically repairing such damage was easy enough, though, if done close to the time it was made, and she wasn't going to leave her own house looking like it was a war zone!
For all that it was as much a training center for a war as it was a home after Father died.
She supposed that she ought to have been thankful, she told herself a few minutes later as she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. At least the repairs had gone smoothly, without spontaneous explosions or other symptoms of a critical lack of focus that had been plaguing her since her last visit home.
Rin stripped off the mud-spattered jacket, blouse, and skirt and left them on the tile where they would do the least damage. Hopefully they could be cleaned; she'd hate to have to throw them out. The Tohsakas had once been quite wealthy, but that wasn't the case any more. Nor did specializing in magic involving jewels make for an easy monthly budget. And why am I worrying about that now? she reminded herself sternly.
She got the water running in the shower, then finished getting the rest of her clothes off. The stockings were a total loss, but at least her underwear was intact, which would spare her at least eight kinds of embarrassment. The towels were still in the cabinet and, since she'd just been staying there a week ago, were freshly laundered; she got one out. By then the water had heated up to the proper temperature and she stepped under the nozzle, feeling the spray cascading over her.
Rin washed her hair thoroughly, then went back and did it again, until she was sure she had gotten the last of the mud out of it. She then set to scrubbing herself clean. Thankfully, her clothing had taken the worst of it, so her hands, face, and neck were the only parts that needed more than casual effort. Even so, she worked up a lather all over herself, getting her entire body clean not only of dirt and grime, but of the subtle feeling of the Clock Tower that she could vaguely sense adhering to her in some obscure way—not any kind of physical or magical force, but a psychological miasma that seemed to cling to her. Water sluiced over her, sliding down along the curves of her body, rinsing away the physical and spiritual grime alike.
The hot water rushing over her did nothing to wash away the memories from the last time she'd been in this house. A time not at all unlike right now.
~X X X~
"You wanted to see me?"
Rider's chuckle was soft and playful in response.
"That's one way of putting it."
Rin had been expecting the visit. When she'd been at Shirou and Sakura's home, Rider had told Rin she'd stop by her house that night. The young mage had a fairly good idea of what the Servant wanted from her.
"I couldn't talk properly with them there, but I thought that you would understand if I took the available opportunity."
"I thought so," Rin said, then tossed her head. "I suppose you thought I was too tempting to pass up."
Rider spread her hands.
"You were right. About me drinking blood, I mean."
"Of course I was. Sakura still has ridiculous levels of prana, but the amount necessary to sustain a Servant is equally ridiculous. And she's got Shirou as well to think of. Something had to give." She paused for a second, then added, "Do they know?"
Rider shook her head. Her hair, Rin noted, barely moved. Tying it back like she did probably made it easier to handle, but Rin thought it was a shame to rein in the fierce glory of it. When it swirled around Rider like a living thing, accompanying her wild, outrageous style of movement yet almost being independent of her limbs, it fit her best.
Medusa, after all, was no hero. And while the Rider that Rin knew was nothing like the monster of legends, not now, thoughts like "restraint" or "conforming to expectations" just seemed wrong in association with her.
"Shirou doesn't know. I'm always careful not to cause any lasting harm to anyone, and to avoid being caught out at anything, so there's no reason for him to suspect." She gave Rin that sly, playful smile of hers that made her wonder what secrets lay behind it. "He's a direct sort of person, so it's easy not to trouble him with otherwise meaningless things that might disturb him."
"There are other words for it," Rin said dryly. "But...it's one of his strong points too."
"Indeed, that is one of the things that makes him perfect for Sakura. A man who can look at her clearly, without such things as 'forgiveness' burdening him."
"That kind of artful precision isn't like you," Rin said suspiciously. The voluptuous woman's words had, despite herself, stung at her, and she had a feeling that it was done on purpose.
"Isn't it? Who knows..." The last two words were almost purred.
"A-anyway! What about Sakura? Does she know about your nighttime activities?"
"No, she doesn't. Or rather, I ought to say that she doesn't want to know."
"Eh?"
"She could tell at once if she checked; she's still my Master, after all. But...I don't think it would be healthy for her to know. It's not like Shirou, who'd just be upset."
Rin nodded.
"Yes, she'd probably blame herself for not being able to support you, and she doesn't need any more burdens."
"I think that part of her knows it, so her subconscious keeps her from asking. And of course, I would never tell her."
Rin smiled at her.
"But even so, the chance to fill up on prana from a talented magus rather than an ordinary person, and from a willing donor instead of a victim, isn't something you'd easily pass up?"
"Mmn, you do understand these things."
"Of course. What kind of big sister would I be if I didn't help look out for her?"
She swept her hair around so that it fell forward across her right shoulder, baring the left side of her throat.
"Well, there you go. I'm ready when you are."
Rider chuckled into her hand, apparently unable to help herself.
"What? What's so funny?"
She took a step forward and tapped Rin on the nose.
"Oh, don't glower at me like that. Though it's cute in its own way."
Rin Tohsaka aspired to be a lot of things. "Cute" wasn't one of them.
"Rider—"
The older woman's hand came up, cupping the side of Rin's face. Her palm was soft and cool, her touch gentle as she leaned in.
"I'm just saying that there's no need to rush things quite so much, Rin." Rider's mouth was so close now that her breath tickled Rin's skin, the warm air and the cool hand a surprising contrast that made her very aware of her sense of touch, feeling the gentle pressure of her own clothes against her skin.
She'd been trying to be efficient about this. Businesslike. Practical. Offering up a fair trade for the Servant's diligence in protecting Rin's family, and as a favor for Sakura's peace of mind. It was the only rational thing to do, both as a magus and as a sister.
There was nothing practical about what Rider was doing.
When Rin had seen her again on her return to the Emiya household after so long in London, she couldn't help but be struck by Rider's stunning beauty. It wasn't just that the Servant was beautiful. Tall, sleek, and with lush curves, yes, but it was more than that. There was a kind of overpowering femininity to her, a sensuality that was more than just the sum of its elements.
"R-Rider, what...?" Rin's voice was choked; it took an effort to get out just that much.
"There's no need for this to be unpleasant," Rider murmured. Her other hand caught Rin at the waist, drawing the two of them together. Rin could feel the pressure of the other woman's thighs against hers, the Servant's breasts nestling above her own. "On the contrary, Rin, you could enjoy it very much if you'd like."
She breathed out the words against Rin's throat, the air's caress on her skin sending tremors through her. Rin could barely repress a shudder, clenching her right hand into a fist to help her retain control.
"Rider, this isn't a game," she managed to say, and even put some sternness into her tone, for all the good it did her.
"Of course it isn't."
Softly, Rider's lips brushed Rin's skin. The flesh of her throat was delicate, tender, and the touch there played all along her nerves.
"T-then why are you playing?"
Her heart was pounding; it seemed as if Rin could feel the blood rushing through her veins.
"But aren't you the one who's playing games, Rin?" Rider wouldn't relent. Like the cruel monster of her legend, she refused to allow Rin the facade of distance and reserve.
Two hard points dented Rin's flesh. Rider's fingers were spread wide against the small of her back, against her head, holding her gently but firmly in place. Control was a distant memory, as Rin trembled in anticipation, wanting and yet fearing what would come in the next moment.
Then she was pierced.
"Ah!"
Her cry was high and sharp; there was a moment of pain in the instant the wound was formed, but it was swiftly drowned in the next as Rin's blood began to flow and the link between the two women created, the fluids Rider was absorbing a vessel for the transfer of magical energy. Something within her tried to cling to the prana being drained, tried to pull it back inside herself, a magus's reflex protecting the fundamental resource of her power. The agitation she felt, through the jangled nerves and confusing sensations spawned by Rider's touch, served to loose that grip. It was as if the energy being drained was a cord being pulled through her grasp, but instead of a coarse rope being ripped through chafed and bleeding fists it was as if a silken ribbon was slipping through her fingers, turning what could have been a painful experience into a caress against her soul.
Soft whimpers seemed to be echoing in Rin's ears, and she was surprised to realize after a moment that they were her own. The sensations seemed to go on and on endlessly, the pleasure building and building until her head swam, the dull ache at her throat drowned out by everything else she was feeling, until she didn't think that she could bear any more without, without—
Then Rider took her mouth away, and it was if a bucket of icy water had been dashed over Rin. The delicious haze that had consumed her vanished in an instant and she found herself shivering, her legs so shaky that it was actually Rider's strong arm that was the only reason she hadn't crumpled to the floor. The heat of the Servant's body against her own made her even more aware of the contact between them than she had been, womanly softness and solid strength all in one.
The only warmth that seemed to answer it was a fierce, tight ball of heat that was centered between Rin's thighs. She could feel the wetness seeping from her, bearing silent witness against her.
Rider took her hand from where it cupped Rin's face, letting her nails deliberately graze the skin as she drew it away, then used the back of it to wipe a stray trickle of blood from the corner of her smiling mouth.
That smile...
There was something knowing about it, something as old as time, as if Medusa had been an oracle and not a semi-divine monster. Rin's face flamed as she imagined Rider being aware of the sensations that had been running through her.
Still ran through her.
Rider lifted her, gently steering her to one of the chairs.
"You could have taken more," Rin said, her voice low.
"I know, but if I had gone much farther then you'd have risked more serious consequences. I didn't want to leave you too weak to go out and about tomorrow. A little tiredness you could pass off as being from jet lag, but anything else and Sakura might grow concerned."
Rin nodded. Rider was completely correct in her objections; there was no reason why they should run the risk for the relatively minor benefit of giving the Servant a little bit more magical energy, something that might delay her need to seek out another human by an extra day or so.
None of which had anything to do with why Rin had spoken. She hadn't wanted Rider to stop. The sensations had ended all too soon for her body's taste.
Rider leaned over her, legs straddling Rin's, close enough that the magus would be pressed against her again if either one leaned forward just the least bit.
Would Rider do it? Rin knew with a certainty that if she did, there would be no holding back. She needed to be touched, held, the surging ache in her quelled, and she would not turn the beautiful Servant who'd inflamed her senses away.
They lingered there, like that, the only sound the ticking of the clock and the soft rush of breath through Rin's lips.
Then Rider brushed a few loose strands of hair away from Rin's face.
"Thank you, Rin," she said softly, even a bit...sadly? And then she withdrew from her, slipping off silently as a shadow, leaving Rin alone and wondering what had just happened to her.
~X X X~
Reluctantly, Rin turned off the water and stood, dripping, for nearly an additional full minute before stepping out of the shower and reaching for the towel. The aftermath of memory played along her nerves; she rubbed at her neck, the ghost of sensations still lingering in her mind.
She wished there had been some lasting physical or metaphysical effect from Rider's bite. Then she could have at the very least pointed her finger at that as the source of her problems.
Failure was not a word Rin Tohaska was familiar with in her own life. She was a prodigy as a magus; in school she'd kept the entire student body dancing to her illusion of the perfect idol. She'd entered the Holy Grail War, and while she hadn't won per se she'd done well enough given that the system was fundamentally broken from the start. She'd survived, she'd helped keep All the World's Evils from being born into physical form...that counted as a win, right? She'd even managed to repair something vaguely approximating a normal family relationship with her sister, not that most magi would care about that.
There was one thing, though, that she had failed at, failed at completely without ever admitting to herself that she was actually trying until the end. She'd had two full years to accept the fact, but there were some things that an hour of close-range reality made clearer than months of thinking alone. Seeing Sakura's happy little family, the life they'd built for themselves after everything they'd been through, put it all into firm, simple perspective: Shirou Emiya was not, and never would be, for her.
And then Rider had come along the very evening she'd finally been able to put it into words for herself.
Rin was cursing under her breath as she rubbed herself dry with the towel. Why did everything have to be so complicated? It wasn't like studying magic at the Tower, which was simple and direct: magic was pure and beautiful, while most magi were assholes. See? Simple.
The lack of simplicity in this matter was driven home again when she reached for her underwear and found that not only it but the muddy clothing on the floor were missing. Instead, set out for her was a neatly folded outfit. And since there was only one other person in the house, obviously it was Rider who'd done this for her. On the one hand, she was touched by the courtesy.
On the other...
Gah! She came in while I was in the shower!
Of course, there were frosted glass doors to preserve the essence of her privacy; Rider's eyes turned people to stone, not rearranged refracted light to reassemble images. Probably. But even so, and even given how stealthy she could be, there was still the fact that Rin had been so lost in the past that she'd completely missed that the Servant had walked in on her.
Basically it was just more proof of how much this whole thing had her screwed up in the head.
Rin noted with some irony that the outfit Rider had set out for her was the one that had been her favorite in high school: red sweater with a silver cross design and ornamental cuff buttons, black pleated microskirt, and black tights. Even the ribbons she'd used to tie up her hair were there. She wondered why Rider had done that—because it was easy to properly accessorize? Because it was how she'd first seen Rin? Because she was trying to send some subtle message that Rin wasn't quite getting?
It was enough to make her want to rip out her hair. Seriously, were Rider and Zelretch in cahoots to drive her stark, raving nuts?
She let out a deep sigh. She didn't like being cornered, either, and she was self-aware enough to know that at least some of her frustration was due to the fact that none of this was happening according to her timetable. To the extent that she had a timetable, given that she was really more blundering forward in the dark. But she'd have liked to have a plan. Time to think things over. To define the problem, consider alternatives, construct a solution, and then a fallback position in case Plan A went wrong (because, as Rin had learned through painful experience, the more important something was, the less likely it was that Plan A would go at all well). Only then would she act.
Well, that was not going to happen.
Instead, she'd been dropped directly on top of her problem. For that matter, it was lucky she hadn't been literally dropped on top of Rider; the old man had that kind of sense of humor. The mud, and the need to clean up, had at least given her some time to think alone.
Not that it had done a lot of good.
She took a deep breath. Time to face the music. She opened the bathroom door and looked out into her bedroom.
"Rider?"
Nothing. Don't tell me she went home? No, Rin didn't have that kind of luck—and Rider didn't have that kind of personality, to let a landed fish off the hook so easily. She wouldn't let her opponent out of a corner out of mercy.
Except...Rider wasn't really her enemy, was she? Calling this a fight wasn't even appropriate. Maybe it was accurate in some sense, but it wasn't a battle, was it? It just felt that way to Rin because she was so off-balance. But in that case, it would be better said that her enemy wasn't Rider at all, but herself.
But even so, Rider wants...what? Something, definitely. Something that she wouldn't give up easily on having.
Squaring her shoulders, Rin went downstairs, looking for Rider. She called for her a couple of times along the way before getting an answer.
"I'm in here, Rin."
It came from the living room, the scene of their last encounter, of the memories she'd just relived so vividly. Rin followed the voice, finding Rider sitting in one of the chairs, one long leg crossed over the other at the knee, a cup in one hand and a saucer in the other. There was no sign of the mud stains on her clothing; she'd either taken the time to clean up or—if the outfit wasn't real in the first place—had just popped in and out of spiritual form to restore her appearance to flawless.
A red-patterned Wedgwood tea set was set out on the coffee table, steam rising invitingly from the pot.
"I thought some tea might help you relax. Hopefully, living in London hadn't made you bored with milk tea?"
Rin shook her head.
"No, not at all." Actually, it was one of the things she genuinely liked about studying at the Clock Tower. "But, I didn't know you could make tea, Rider?"
The tall Servant smiled at her again.
"It is difficult to find time in the kitchen while living with Sakura and Shirou, I agree. But they prefer Japanese tea, so I thought I would learn to take care of myself so as not to bother them."
Rin sat down across from her, semi-consciously putting the barrier of the table between herself and the other woman. The memories, both from a week ago and from earlier in the hall, still lingered strongly, and Rider's nearness was a powerful distraction, something she was conscious of as she poured for Rin. It felt another strange to have another woman playing hostess in her own house, but the tea was very good. Even despite just having come from a long, hot shower, Rin savored the warmth as it flowed down her throat. The house seemed a little cool at night, perhaps.
"It's very good; thank you."
Rider shook her head.
"No, not at all. Consider it an apology for the rude welcome I gave you. It can't have been pleasant, walking into an ambush in your own home."
"I appreciate you looking out for it, though," Rin said. She didn't apologize for her own side of the fight, given that she'd been so ineffectual against the Servant that it had barely counted as a fight. It would be like apologizing for making noise after dropping a pin onto a carpeted floor, an act of arrogance rather than manners. "It's nice to know that some wannabe trying to steal the secrets of the Tohsaka family would get what they deserve." Which was not to say that she hadn't arranged her own protections for the things that were genuinely precious, but there was a limit to what an automated defense could do. "But then, you've always been very protective of what you care about."
There, Rin thought. I've fired the opening shot.
And it had struck home. Just for an instant, Rider's eyes widened fractionally behind her glasses. It would have been silly to call it an "attack," but it was nice to have some confirmation that she wasn't the only one who was feeling the effects of their first encounter.
Maybe this isn't going to be as bad as I thought?
Rin took another sip of tea.
"Still, I didn't expect to see you back in Japan so soon after your last visit. It's an unexpected pleasure."
Rin tried to ignore the slight emphasis placed on the last word.
"'Unexpected' is a good way to describe it," she picked a different one. "I honestly didn't expect that I'd need to come back for months at the least."
"It isn't an emergency?"
Rin shook her head.
"No, nothing like that, thank God. I've had enough of those to last out a decade!" She'd have said "a lifetime," but that would have been patently ridiculous. A successful magus's life would be rife with emergencies of one sort or another; the only way to avoid them would be to be so mundane and irrelevant that the world passed one by.
"Mundane" was another one of those words that Rin really didn't like associated with herself.
"No, this is strictly a personal visit. My mentor thought that I needed to come here to settle something."
"Oh?"
Rider sipped tea. Since she didn't need to eat, she obviously did so only for her own enjoyment...and for the fact that it allowed her to wait placidly for Rin to speak up. Of course, speaking up under such embarrassing circumstances was about the last thing in the world she wanted to do.
She looked across the table at Rider, meeting the other woman's gaze. The Mystic Eye-killer glasses were in place, and yet Rin was as frozen as if she'd truly had Medusa's gaze fixed on her once again.
Even though it was a still, cloudless night, she could hear rain hammering on a gabled roof. The dull echo of her beating heart as she was about to make an unbearably stupid choice. A completely rational choice, a choice that was safe, logical, pragmatic, and insane. A choice that something had told her she'd had to take.
Shirou Emiya had saved her then, yanked her back off the ledge, prevented her from killing her sister that night in Kotomine's church. But Shirou wasn't here to save her now. And he wouldn't be in the future.
It was easier to say it, now that it was something in words. You couldn't resolve anything if you couldn't say it. Which was, she knew, at the heart of most of her problems. It was what had driven her to Shirou at first, that purity of intent.
In retrospect, it wasn't that Shirou helped her to avoid stupid decisions. He helped her to avoid wrong ones, in the moral sense. It was like the conscience she'd tried to bury with her magus training had popped out and started walking around, talking to her. He helped her to be a better person—or rather, he helped her to find the better person already inside herself and bring it out.
Truthfully, that was a pretty good basis for her first serious schoolgirl crush. First loves were supposed to be tender and innocent and uplifting. But Rin wasn't a high school girl anymore.
And if she wanted to be a good person, rather than just a good magus, then she needed to do it for herself, not at the urging of someone else.
The things Rider called to in her, they weren't sweetly innocent. And when she could put things into words like "first crush" and "first heartbreak," well, it did something else as well. It opened the door to other possibilities, to things she hadn't allowed herself to think about.
Was that why Rider had set out the clothing she'd liked wearing two years before? Was it her way of saying, now that you know your feelings, what choice would you have made had you admitted them then?
Rin could believe it. Rider wasn't an innocent, and she wasn't an honorable knight. She'd use any weapon at her disposal to insure her victory.
"But it isn't quite right," she said aloud.
"Pardon me?"
Rider arched a slim eyebrow at her. That was hardly surprising, given that she'd just sat silently for several minutes before breaking that silence with a complete non sequitur.
"Going back two years ago. If I'd been willing to admit to myself then what I'd felt about Shirou, it would have just made me sad and depressed. Nobody likes a teenaged girl whining and moping over some boy, right? I was probably just trying to keep from making a fool of myself," she added with an artful toss of her head.
"Were we talking about Shirou?" Rider asked. This time, Rin couldn't be sure if she was teasing or not.
Rin set the teacup down. There was still time to back out, to wave off the rest of it and—
—Not this time.
"No, we weren't," she said. Her head lifted and she smiled at Rider. She reached up and tugged first one, then the other black ribbon loose from her hair, then ran her fingers through it so that it settled into place the way she wore it now. "Because it's not two years ago, and the woman that I am now doesn't need any help to make reckless, probably foolish, but absolutely right decisions."
She rose to her feet and with steady, purposeful steps walked around the coffee table to stand in front of Rider's chair. The Servant lifted her gaze to look up at Rin, who reached out, cupping Rider's face in a mirror of the pose they'd been in a week ago.
Then Rin, without giving herself a chance to think again, to pause on the threshold or second-guess herself, leaned down and pressed her lips to Rider's.
It was not a particularly expert kiss. Indeed, about all that could be said about it from a technical standpoint was that they didn't bump noses or bang their teeth together. But it was warm and sweet, and Rider's lips felt even softer than they had against Rin's throat.
It lasted that way for several long seconds. Then Rin heard the clink of china as Rider set her teacup down, and without breaking the kiss rose smoothly from her seat and commenced kissing Rin back. Medusa's kisses were far from inexpert; she began by meeting Rin's firm, direct pressure with a fierceness that all but took the girl's breath away, then backed off, lightly teasing, nibbling at Rin's mouth, gently tugging at Rin's lower lip between hers, then once again capturing Rin with sudden passion.
Rin's head swam at the sensations. Her time in London had taught her that foreigners regarded a girl's first kiss as next to nothing, child's play. She hadn't understood that attitude, then, but now it seemed beyond belief. The way she felt, the heat of that caressing mouth, the faint taste of tea on Rider's lips, it utterly claimed her, so that she was only dimly aware of being closed in an embrace, one of the Servant's arms going around her back, the other coming up under Rin's, the hand sliding through Rin's hair to gently grip her head.
Nor was Rider through, not by a long shot. She deepened the kiss, gentle pressure urging Rin's mouth open to admit Rider's tongue between her parted lips. It invaded sweetly, darting, tasting, and a delicious shudder ran through Rin at the caress. Heat was building in her, a clawing ache between her legs and the sting of her nipples drawing up into tight points. Involuntarily, a moan was drawn from her, breathed into Rider's mouth.
Rin refused to just be a passive recipient of Rider's talents, though; she answered the other woman at once, her tongue dueling wetly with Rider's. Inexperienced though she was, she was a quick study, and when they broke off the kiss it was not only the young magus whose cheeks were flushed with arousal.
"Mmn," Rider purred, licking her lips. "And here I thought that a proper magus was supposed to be cold."
Rin let her hand glide down along Rider's back and squeezed her bottom.
"And I thought you turned people to stone, not set them on fire."
"Well, I was never a very good student of the elements."
Her smile vanished, then, and her face grew serious.
"Is this really what you want, Rin?" She lightly stroked Rin's cheek, sending electric tingles along her nerves.
"You're not a very good monster, are you, Rider? A nubile maiden in your grasp, at your mercy, and you're offering her the chance to flee?"
She'd meant the taunt to get back a little of the control she'd been losing, but she caught the ghost of old pain flitting across Rider's face and winced.
"I'm sorry, Rider; I didn't mean it that way." Gah! Why do I always have to do that?
As apologies went, it wasn't much of one, but it seemed that the sincerity in which it was offered got through in spite of the clumsiness of her words, for Rider's lips curved into the thin, catlike smile of a predator about to enjoy its prey.
Rin felt another trickle of wetness from within herself at the sight.
"You shouldn't apologize, Rin. After all, I only asked because you're my Master's sister, and she would worry if you did something that you regretted in the light of morning. So I'll ask you again: is this really what you want?"
She was being more than fair, to not simply take what was being freely offered. Fair enough, at least, that she'd earned an honest answer.
"I don't know." Had realizing the truth about her feelings given her the clarity to see what had been in front of her all along? Or was it just the selfish desire to be held, be touched, have it proven that she was capable of drawing an eye upon her? Only time would tell for sure. "But I do know that I want to find out."
"Well, then...shall we see what I can do to help you make up your mind?" Rider invited, and Rin felt her own lips curving up in what was positively a smirk.
"And just why are you wasting your time asking?" she challenged, and at once found that challenge taken up as Rider crushed her mouth to Rin's once again. The young magus groaned deep in her throat as Rider's hands pushed up under her sweater, sliding up the bare skin of her back, finding and disposing of her bra-clasp with ease. She pushed the straps aside so she could trace the length of Rin's spine, draw her fingertips around the outline of her shoulder blades, gently exploring in a direct contrast to the way her mouth was plundering Rin's. She reached up again, then grazed her fingernails down all the way to her waist, drawing a gasp from the girl.
Unwilling to be a passive participant, Rin started to work Rider's shirt free from her slacks, but rather than the light caresses of the other woman she greedily went for Rider's breasts, thrusting her hands up under the shirt. After all, she told herself as she cupped their lush softness, I did a good thing in being honest with my feelings, and I deserve a reward. She lightly stroked the nipples up between thumbs and forefingers; they'd been partly erect before she touched them and grew even more taut under her caresses.
Smirking, Rin broke off the kiss. "You like that, don't you, Rider?" she said, lightly pinching and tugging, drawing a soft moan from the older woman.
"Ah! Y-yes, that's good."
"Well, I'm just getting started." She pulled her hands back from beneath Rider's shirt, then grabbed the hem and pulled it up and over Rider's head. She smiled at the sight revealed; the Servant's bare body was as gorgeous as her clothed appearance had promised.
Without waiting further, Rin all but dove at Rider's breasts again, cupping one in each hand. She barely had to dip her head to draw one nipple into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue before commencing to suck. Hungrily, she went back and forth from one to the other, savoring the musky taste of the Servant's flesh.
Emboldened by Rider's obvious appreciation of what she was doing, Rin let one hand slide down across her flat belly, where she worked the clasp of her slacks free, then tugged down the zipper. The pants were tight-fitting, for which Rin was thankful for the extremely nice views they'd provided of Rider's shapely backside, but it made it tricky to work them off her one-handed. Rin managed to get them down over Rider's hips and last, though, and at once plunged her hand between the Servant's legs, feeling the heat of her through her black satin underwear.
Rin raised her hand from Rider's breast as her fingers started to explore, gently stroking her through the thin material. Her heart was in her throat with excitement and, yes, nerves as she touched another woman for the first time. In the next moment she tugged the gusset of Rider's panties aside and began to touch her folds directly, thrilling to feel the dampness there, plain evidence of the stunning beauty's arousal. Parting the lips with her first and third fingers, she dipped her middle finger within, stroking it up the length of her and was rewarded with a short, sharp indrawn hiss of breath.
The response was music to Rin's ears.
She leaned up, recapturing Rider's mouth in a searing kiss, then curled her fingers up, pressing two over the swollen bud within Rider's sex, beginning to stroke it in earnest. God, I want her, echoed in her mind, coming out in a sound from deep in her throat that was almost a growl. She'd been aching to do this ever since she'd walked into the house—no, since the first time, when Rider had bitten her. Ached to return the favor, make the gorgeous woman feel some of what she'd made Rin fell. No, to surpass it, to pay it back with interest.
Rin worked her fingertips against Rider's core, using the same firm, circling strokes that she liked to use on herself. Rider obviously liked it, too, from the way her hips pressed forward, thrusting herself up against Rin's hand and from the cries that slipped from her mouth between kisses. That's it, Rin thought. Just let yourself go, and—
And then Rider threw her head back and let out a high, sighing cry. Her hands clung to Rin, and it seemed like every muscle in the Servant's form clenched at once as her climax took her, until with a sudden sigh the wave receded and her body went limp.
The sudden burden of the larger woman's weight on Rin made her lose her balance; she fell backward with Rider atop her, but the Servant recovered her senses just in time, thrusting a hand out to stop their fall while the other hand supported Rin's body. Cradling Rin safe against her, Rider smiled.
"I suppose you could say that you swept me off my feet."
Rin chuckled.
"I should have done this the last time we were together."
"I wanted you to," Rider said.
They lingered there, like that, the only sound the ticking of the clock and the soft rush of breath through Rin's lips.
"I'm sorry," Rin said. She understood, now, why Rider had hesitated, then pulled away. She'd known what her bite had done to Rin, how thoroughly she'd seduced the young magus—and had been waiting for Rin to accept it and reach out to her. Even a monster had her pride. She reached up with her left hand and gently stroked Rider's face. "It's not easy for me to..."
"It's all right," Rider said, and gently lowered Rin to the floor, covering the girl's body with her own.
"Well, that's good, then," Rin said softly, and then she gave a devil's smile to her lover. "Because, if you think that after I went through all that that we're done here..."
She freed her right hand from between them and brought it up where she could see it. Her fingers glistened with Rider's nectar, and she reached forward and brushed them over her lover's lips. Pressing gently, she urged them apart, and Rider complied, taking Rin's first two fingers into her mouth. Her tongue swept over them, licking them clean of her own taste, and Rin felt another thrill of desire surge through her, the emotional intimacy of a moment ago not blunting her need in the slightest, instead just building it higher, fuel for the flame that threatened to consume her if it wasn't answered right away.
With her free hand, Rin reached down and brought Rider's right hand up between her legs so the other woman could reciprocate what Rin had done for her. Or at least she tried, because about halfway there Rider's wrist stopped moving. Rin tugged harder, more insistently, but forcing the Servant's arm where she didn't want it to go was beyond her.
"Damn it, Rider," she growled in frustration, "take me!"
Rider just smiled and gave a throaty chuckle that slid along Rin's nerves like a caress, somehow turning a laugh into a sensual promise.
"You're a direct one, aren't you, Rin? If I were a man, would you be telling me to plunge into you without any preparation?"
Rin felt her cheeks go warm, realizing that she was blushing in her embarrassment, which realization just made her all the more embarrassed. It wasn't her fault that she was a virgin! Well, I suppose technically it is, but she shouldn't be making an issue of it! Flustered, she squirmed beneath the Servant, her body caught between wanting to get away and the desperate need that was still clawing at her.
"If you're too proud to put up with my inexperience, then—"
Whatever other protest she might have made was silenced when Rider kissed her again, hard and deep so that by the end of it desire had crushed out embarrassment.
"You don't fight fair," she whimpered.
"Not when the prize is worth having," Rider agreed, "and you definitely are, Rin."
Rin felt herself blushing again.
"But since you can only give this particular prize once...I'm going to make sure that the giving matches the value of the gift." Her words were gentle, but the smile she gave Rin was pure Medusa. She turned aside and slipped her glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, and when she turned back the leather mask she'd worn during the Grail War, a manifestation of one of her Noble Phantasms turned back on herself to seal her Mystic Eyes, was fixed in place.
"Rider, why did you take off your glasses?"
"Glasses can get knocked off if things get...vigorous."
She shed her remaining clothes like a snake slipping from its skin, her bared flesh almost glowing in the soft amber light of the lamps, then just as smoothly divested Rin of her sweater and bra, before whisking her skirt away. She then slid back up along Rin's body, her bare form gliding like silk over Rin's skin even as the rug prickled at the girl's back.
Rider's fingers tipped Rin's chin up to meet another kiss, but this one was soft and teasing, gently brushing their lips together, then nibbling playfully at Rin's lower lip. Her mouth moved down, tongue tracing up the length of her jawline before letting the warmth of her breath tickle in Rin's ear. Rider captured Rin's earlobe between her teeth, gently tugging, and sent a shudder through her that served to rub her body against Rider's, a delicious contact with the soft curves covering her.
"Easy now; we're just getting started," Rider murmured in her ear while sliding her hands down Rin's flanks, stroking and exploring the girl's body.
Her mouth moved down, down along Rin's neck in suckling, biting kisses that at once called to mind when she'd taken Rin's blood, but this time she did not break the skin, only tantalized the magus's flesh. She swirled her tongue in the hollow at the base of Rin's throat, the contact with the sensitive spot combined with her caressing hands wresting a groan from Rin. She seemed to drink in Rin's satisfaction, and continued to kiss down her body.
Rider's hands came up to cup and frame Rin's breasts even as she trailed her tongue wetly down the valley between them. Rin could feel her nipples draw up so tightly they almost hurt, but Rider ignored them, only coming so close as to tease her nails in lazy circles around the aureolae. Her mouth, meanwhile, continued to move down; Rin's belly quivered as her breath tickled. She'd pause now and again to suckle lightly at the sensitive skin, just shy of being hard enough to leave a mark. She teased Rin's belly-button with the tip of her tongue, then continued to move down, down until she reached Rin's waistline.
Quixotically, Rin wished that she'd worn something sexier than plain white, even though it had been Rider herself who'd set her clothes out. But then, the masked Servant couldn't actually see her anyway, although with her superhuman senses it virtually made no difference.
She parted Rin's legs, her body slipping down between them, and pressed her lips against the heat of Rin's core. The soft pressure tickled her through the cotton, and she could feel the wet spot pressing up against her intimate flesh. Rider then hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled the garment down, easing it off first one leg, then the other. She stroked Rin's stocking-clad thighs and calves as she did, making sure to explore the full length of the girl's legs so that she turned removing Rin's underwear from something plain and direct into an act of desire.
Her hands slid up the inside of Rin's legs from knees to inner thighs, moving from tights to bare skin, meeting the crease where leg met groin, parting her legs yet again. Rider leaned in, nuzzled against the damp black curls, then moved down, her lips just barely touching Rin, so that her breath teased the heated flesh. Rin tried to arch her hips up, invite Rider's mouth onto her, but was again frustrated by the Servant's strength that kept her pinned in place.
"Not just yet, Rin," Rider said, her lips brushing against her lover's when she spoke.
"Rider—!"
A throaty laugh was her only response, before Rider began to press kisses down the inside of her right thigh before reaching her stocking-top. She grazed her teeth along the seam where fabric met flesh, then back up to the soft skin of the inner thigh. She bit down, suckling hard, and the contrast with the teasing kisses and light touches from up until then made Rin gasp, her upper body twisting against the carpet with the sudden stab of pleasure that ran through her.
"Ahh! Rider, you're driving me crazy!"
Rider moved to the other thigh, repeating the process, biting, sucking, soothing the heated flesh with her tongue, and all the while making the clawing ache inside Rin stronger and stronger, until the girl was ready to put her own hand to work and damn the consequences when Rider finally covered Rin with her mouth.
Even then, though, she continued to tease, slipping the very tip of her tongue between Rin's lips and sliding it up and down, before pressing it inward, probing and tasting. It seemed to explore everywhere, as if seeking out every one of Rin's secrets, until the magus was quivering beneath her, frozen on the edge between screaming or weeping with sheer need. She fisted both hands in Rider's flowing hair, trying to urge her on, until at last Rider's tongue darted towards the center of Rin's pleasure, seeking it out even as it seemed to try to flee, licking, circling over and around the swollen bud until Rin's overtaxed senses could take no more and she went off, shamelessly screaming out her satisfaction as her world dissolved into a scarlet haze, and all the while Rider's tongue would not stop, sending additional jolts up into her, holding her at the peak for what felt like an eternity before finally she crashed down from the heights, laying quivering beneath her lover.
The receding force of her climax seemed to leave Rin hyper-sensitive. The sighs of her lungs sucking in air echoed in her ears, and her skin seemed alive to every touch: the coolness of the large, high-ceilinged room, the fibers of the carpet against her back and legs, the slight roughness of Rider's mask, loose strands of Rider's hair falling across her hips and thighs like a silken spider's web entrapping her. She could even feel the way her own inner walls quivered in the aftermath.
Her fingers ached from being clenched so tightly; she hoped that she hadn't hurt Rider by pulling too hard on her hair. Even if it's her own fault for teasing me like that. The Servant hadn't made a word of protest, though, so Rin only let her hands slowly relax, hair sliding between them as soft as ribbons as she pulled them free.
Her mind fished for something to say; it seemed like she ought to acknowledge what had just happened in some way, but she couldn't find anything that seemed right. It didn't seem appropriate to be too brusque or too witty, but at the same time she didn't want to say something tender that would just come off as cheesy and embarrassing. Not to mention that she wasn't even certain of her own feelings. Coming down from the most soul-shattering orgasm of her young life was hardly a time conducive to clear thought.
Then Rider's tongue brushed over her again and whatever Rin might have said was lost in a sharp, wordless gasp of pleasure.
This time, there was no teasing, no play. Rider licked at her, then took Rin between her lips and suckled, sending a quick, hot stab of pleasure through the girl. Rin tossed her head back and cried out, and in the next moment she felt a finger parting her, probing at her entrance before slipping inside. Rin was so wet by this point that the violation was an easy one, the pressure from the intrusion a pleasurable counterpart to what Rider's mouth was doing.
Rider kept up the dual assault on Rin's senses, her agile and talented tongue sending new pleasure surging through her while her finger slid in and out steadily, an added accent to the stimulation. She twisted her hand with every stroke, gently urging Rin open until she was able to add a second finger to the first. Mewling, whimpering cries were torn from Rin's throat as she writhed beneath the Servant.
Now Rider's fingers began to press deeper into Rin, slide more fully within her. There was a pressure, a kind of tugging sensation whenever they reached the end of each stroke, and Rin realized what the older woman was doing, that her fingers were pressing against the membrane of her maidenhead.
Is she going to—? A moment's apprehension filled her. Despite what they'd already done this evening, there was still the sense that something else was left, some barrier remaining to be crossed that the physical one represented. It was silly to think that a technically unpierced membrane within her body meant something while she lay nearly nude beneath a beautiful woman in the act of pleasuring her, feeling the force of a second climax building up and ready to break over her—and yet it did. Not as some artificial threshold of "virginity," but in what it said about Rin.
She could sense Rider's hesitation, the way she'd enter just so far and no further. It was just as the Servant had said; this was something that couldn't be taken, but was Rin's to give. She might tease, play, and seduce, but without Rin's assent she would go no farther, leaving her with another orgasm and no more.
Rin Tohsaka was not one for regrets, and she detested people who did things halfway.
When Rider next stroked into her, Rin drove her hips up off the floor, taking Rider's fingers in all the way to the knuckle in one sharp thrust.
The pain was sharp and sudden, and Rin bit her lip, muffling the cry that tried to burst from her. But she'd expected that. What did come as a surprise was Rider's gasp, followed by a low, throaty chuckle.
"I should have guessed that you wouldn't just lie there and let me do everything for you."
"Of course not!" Rin said, feeling an odd glow of pride at Rider's words. "You don't think you're going to have this all your way, do you, R-Ri—ahh!"
Her comment was cut off by the Servant putting her mouth back to work, attacking Rin's clit once again with renewed energy. At the same time, she began to move her fingers in and out of Rin, the dual assault quickly raising the girl to new heights. The delicious feeling of fullness, the lewdness of the sounds Rider's fingers made sliding in and out of her wetness, it all added to the pleasure Medusa's serpentine tongue was giving her. Rin's ankles locked around the small of Rider's back, legs pulling the Servant's body against her even as her hips plunged upwards to meet each thrust, grinding herself against Rider's mouth, craving more, demanding more, until at last—
The wave hit her, Rin's body arching, pulled taut like a drawn bowstring, her inner walls clamping down on Rider's hand, pulsing around her fingers while another high, soaring cry was torn from the girl and everything fell apart, her senses wholly consumed.
She lay limp, breath coming in long, ragged gasps, doubting that she'd be able to move anytime soon even if she wanted to. Distantly, as if it was happening to someone else, she felt Rider's fingers slide out of her, leaving a dull, throbbing soreness in their wake from muscles that had never been asked to allow passage there before. The Servant slipped up along the length of her, lush curves gliding against Rin's sweat-slicked body to lay half-next, half-covering her, one arm curled around Rin beneath her breasts. The sensation of their bodies pressed together felt vaguely strange; Rider's body was cool against Rin's heated flesh and yet warm compared to the parts she didn't cover from the air.
They lay like that for long minutes while Rin came back to herself, cradled in her lover's arms, before Rider broke the silence.
"I'm sorry that it hurt."
Of all the things to say, Rin hadn't been expecting that, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"I've had a lot worse pain than that, Rider. And most of the time not in anything like as good a cause."
"So then, you don't...?" Rider left the question hanging. It was odd, Rin thought, how expressive her face could be even though her eyes were covered.
"Not at all," Rin told her, then kissed her gently.
"I'm glad." Then, after a long pause, she added, "I suppose I do have one regret of my own."
"Hunh?" Rin's eyebrows rose in surprise.
Rider gave her a sly smile, almost a smirk. No, definitely a smirk. The former Master of Archer knew from smirks.
"I didn't get to see your cute face as you—"
"Gah!" Rin's cheeks flushed, and Rider snickered.
I'm going to have to step up my game to keep up with this one.
But then, since when had Rin ever backed away from a challenge?
"Then, it sounds to me," she said, "that we should go back and do it again until you get it right."
She slipped her arms around the Servant and pulled her in close.
No, she wasn't sure what it was she'd found tonight or where it would all end up. But she wasn't going to hold herself back from finding out.
~X X X~
The smell of the grilling fish mingled pleasantly with that of the warming miso soup in the Emiya-Matou kitchen. It was nothing but the ordinary scents of a simple Japanese-style breakfast, but it was enough to make anyone's mouth water. The young couple, a girl with plum-colored hair and eyes and a wiry red-haired boy, worked side-by-side at the various tasks in a dance born of long practice, a casual ease with each other that showed they barely took notice of each other within their space. Or rather, it was not that they were truly unaware, but that the violation was welcomed and savored as an intimacy. The smiles, the lingering glances at one another during stray moments, the way they seemed to naturally reach out to touch, even just to brush up against one another whenever they were in position to do so, they all spoke of a couple who were very much in love.
All in all, it was the kind of blissful domestic scene that one saw depicted in holiday movies with the phrase "for the whole family!" in the description.
Something, however, was missing. Or rather, someone.
"Sakura?"
"Yes, sempai?"
Idly, Shirou wondered if she would ever stop calling him that. He had a feeling that she wouldn't; from Sakura, the word had taken on an idiomatic meaning personal to her that went well beyond its literal definition.
"Isn't it time to get the omelet started?"
Sakura shook her head.
"I'm not making an omelet today."
"Oh, but Rider doesn't really like Japanese food. You two aren't fighting about something, are you?" Shirou asked suspiciously.
Sakura giggled.
"Sempai, Rider never came home last night, so she won't be coming to breakfast."
"Never came home? I thought she was just going up to the Tohsaka house to read? And didn't you ask her to bring home that one book you wanted since she'd be up there? You asked her about it right after that call from Rin's teacher, so don't you need it for some magecraft project?"
"Not very much. And if she stayed the night, then I think Rider found what I wanted her to up there."
"Huh? What are you talking about, Sakura?"
"About me doing something to make two of the people that I love very happy. And about me taking care of my two biggest problems at the same time."
Shirou looked at her oddly.
"Um, I really have no idea what you're talking about? I must still be sleepy."
She stepped closer to him and looked up through lowered eyelashes, the pose one of innocent shyness but the look in her eyes avid, even wanton. The combination made the back of Shirou's throat suddenly go dry, the warm glow her presence caused catching light with a different sort of heat.
"Since there's no one waiting for us to finish here, maybe we should do something to help you wake up, sempai?" The huskiness in her voice crushed any thoughts of resistance Shirou might have had, and he closed his arms around his lover.
It was arguable how much Rin Tohsaka and Sakura Matou were alike as people, but at the very least both sisters ate an extremely late breakfast that morning.
Last edited by Milbunk; April 2nd, 2013 at 04:00 AM.
Notes made in order, more-or-less as I read it: if the author reads their 'fic alongside my comments, I hope it'll seem to make sense. There's a more general summary at the end. Obviously I'm not actually a judge, so if you want to break your anonymity just to me by pointing out everywhere I've been an idiot and totally missed what you were trying to do, you can safely PM me to say that.
Memories/Dreams/Nightmares
Good insight into pre-Archer's life for the first part, I think. The little twists in perspective are interesting and hints at degradation of memory quite neat (I'm wondering if there's actually pay-off for it later, though - putting it in without an actual purpose is less good).
Proper remembering of Shirō's later physical changes without overstating it - they're there, just as a fact, and that's all that's needed.
Transitioning to the lemon was OK - there's a real reason - but could certainly have been better. Relief at being understood, even a kind of surge of love, I can see, but that hammering straight through to lust is ... eh. Here and further on, I get Ilya's desire for sex in this situation rather more than Shirō's, despite the narrative putting that bit of extra focus on him.
(Misspelling: "'dong' in heat". Kinda funny in context, though).
Concealing the identity of Ilya as long as you did worked for a while (and I was picking up on earlier hints which had the right amount of hintiness - again, there but not overstated and unsubtle - so I wasn't jarred out of the narrative when the reveal came). However, since Ilya's distinct enough that a physical description would have given the game away and you weren't willing to just break it and say her name, that left the initial erotic part of the lemon slightly problematic re: imagery (which is obviously pretty important in a lemon). Still, kudos for not leaving her right the way to the end as Mysterious Woman to jump a final surprise on us and letting the bulk of the sex happen with her identity confirmed.
'Mounds of flesh' as a synonym for breasts - ugh, cliché. (And, really, not that erotic either. Occasionally gives me the image of just bags of flesh on the girl's chest, uncovered by skin. Yuck).
'Her back arched as she felt his fingers caress and rub her folds, moaning and gasping as her clit and breasts were stimulated.' First part is fine, second part just goes way too quickly, jumping into telling not showing territory. (Also stimulated feels a bit too clinical here). If you cut out the part about her breasts here or threw it further on into another clause or sentence, it'd seem like a more natural progression of causes, focused on Shirō's precise action. That seems like it'd improve it as a description of what's going on here, instead of what it feels like now – 'you know that thing which happens in sex, it's happening here'.
'Her body shuddered as the pleasure and emotional intensity of the act combined.' Slightly arguable, but I'm again getting 'telling, not showing' vibes. You might either slow this down for a space, make it a bit more tender and then naturally have room for emotional description of their devotion to each other and how it figures into their love-making, which could segue into this combination; or you could keep up the pretty frantic pace so far and have a go at the 'life-affirming; you're here' side of the emotions bound up in this intimacy. Either way, I'd like a bit more focus on the emotions which are to combine with her physical pleasure before you spring that sentence on us.
'He continued to pleasure her orally'. Too clinical and take you a bit out of the lemon - it immediately invokes 'oral sex' which is a something of a ... government term. Not quite actually polite, but you'd get it on sex-ed pamphlets. Not the sort of thing you actually hear in the middle of frantic shagging. Think about Galahad's solo adventure in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. You laugh when they go '... and then, the oral sex' because it's absurd not only as a transition but since you don't say that in real life, certainly not in that (or this) kind of context.
Ditto the clinical thing about 'they had had sexual intercourse quite a number of times before now'. Another government term.
'he continued to utter' - feels like a bout of thesaurus syndrome. Even worse in the middle of a lemon which is generally rawer than most writing.
Good bit of emotional work here now as we move towards the end. I like it just for itself and I think the placing is good.
'She lied against the sheets' - she lay against the sheets.
Finishing the lemon and the transition out is pretty decently constructed all round.
This absolutely final bit/epilogue ... eh. It seems to me that you've branched off something of an AU here and then developed bits of its past/present/future, with Ilya really chasing after Shirō and some other divergences, but there's not quite enough detail to even make it 'mysterious yet interesting', only confusing. I'm just kinda wondering what's happening - now-Archer-Shirō is facing off against probably-Ilya who has somehow got hold of his sort of projection and can make K&B? Huh? How? What?
It pays off a hint made earlier and adds some interesting tragedy to the piece, but I think it would have been better off without that first hint and without this. There's obviously affecting tragedy already, with Shirō slightly breaking down, Ilya able to comfort him for only so long until he has to leave, Ilya being left behind mostly helpless, etc., and it's made that bit better by contrasting the small comforts they can take in each other with the ongoing and probably worsening pain that both are taking on. I just don't think it needed the 'conclusion' and would have been better left open-ended so that readers could extrapolate for themselves what it would end up like.
Ooh, Mil's formatting pass brings up something new. You have rendered parts in blacktext. Mmm. It's always a risk, since you are deliberately asking the reader to be active (very unusual in reading), and to really look out for stuff. You always interrupt the flow if you make it prominent even once, and you may well have readers missing parts if they don't get when precisely they ought to be highlighting. What you've done, specifically - on reflection, it could be a lot worse. Ilya's reciprocating lines in the interludes are tied together with the rest of the places you're using it and also aren't strictly necessary to get the 'fic. That said, I think always blacktexting Ilya is too much of an interruption to the main narrative. And if you (for example) kill all the blacktexts except the first to at least get that sort of a statement that you wanted in, then it feels a bit pointless to have it just once (especially since you've thereby decreased the chance of people hunting for those reciprocating lines in the interludes because it looks like a one-off).
Overall, it could have been much worse, but I think blacktexting 'Ilya' doesn't quite work however you try it and without that part of it, the blacktexting of her replies in the interludes comes off rather worse, and that those replies are adequately marked out by the formatting quirk of throwing them over the the right so that the extra distinction isn't quite necessary. Additionally, those lines add enough that I'd really rather there wasn't a chance for them to be missed. You've definitely got something extra out of it, I won't contest that. But ... it's not quite worth it, I think.
Conclusion:
Best parts were generally in the emotional portraits - I got your Shirō and Ilya and I basically got them as those two characters despite you using an alternate history. That's excellent. Generally, I felt that you'd got the basic art of subtlety in writing down well too, not hammering your readers' faces with stuff that - while somewhat important - still only needed a quick glance at for us to see and understand the significance. Pacing generally was good too - the biggest plus to your erotica was that you mostly got that it was OK to breathe a bit here and there and took space for the emotions and talking. (If you're having sex and don't talk to them at all, there's probably something wrong. Or you've got a housemate in and your walls are thin). Better yet, you took those breathers in the right pace where they didn't feel like sudden interruptions.
Improvements mainly needed on the actual lemon-writing side. You're not failing at the absolute basics and the biology's there (or close enough for writing's sake because just like a book which continually describes the character's bowel movements alongside their fantastic adventures is mad, no-one wants to read totally realistic sex scenes), but there were a number of points where the language just was not actually erotic. When you're writing sex, you really need to convey the sense of closeness that's there in real life - even for a one-night-stand (which this certainly isn't), just involving your privates means that there's a level of intimacy. It's one of the few constants – sex can be passionate, loving, fast, rough, slow, tender, wrenchingly emotional, screamingly pleasurable, dozens of other things, and hundreds of combinations formed from all these. But some intimacy is always there, and anything that sounds like it belongs on a doctor's note is right out. Even if it's really bad sex, with your partner totally failing at giving you even the kind of pleasure you could give yourself, an author should not be writing that in a detached way – at least IMO.
Overall, good parts and distinctly mediocre parts (I don't think I call anything here outright bad). In terms of slapping a number on it … keh, I'm not dealing with trying to work out what sort of 'average' be using as a standard. Instead, if you'd have broken even with good and not-good stuff at 5, I'm giving this a 6. Tightening up the erotica just that extra bit and doing something about the ending would bump it up to at least a 7 and quite possibly an 8.
Beast's Lair: Useful Notes
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Updated 01/01/15
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Democracy on Beast's Lair
Notes made in order, more-or-less as I read it: if the author reads their 'fic alongside my comments, I hope it'll seem to make sense. There's a more general summary at the end. Obviously I'm not actually a judge, so if you want to break your anonymity just to me by pointing out everywhere I've been an idiot and totally missed what you were trying to do, you can safely PM me to do that.
Not The Welcome She Was Expecting
'Things that spoke of his mastery of the Second Magic or the puissance of his magic use generally or the awe and fear in which others held him.'
You're chaining 'of's, which sounds a bit off. And 'magic use generally' could be cut down to 'magic'. Just a bit of unnecessary fat.
This whole intro suffers a bit from inconsistent tone. It's fine to set up slightly pompous narration (which is what you have when you use 'fillip' or 'puissance' - simple language is not a sin) to contrast with final bathos; something mundane. Flipping back and forth from 'one does this, one does that' to the title of 'Arrrrrgh' to 'the concept of a surprise attack became virtually inconceivable' to 'what have you ... stone cold bitch' just doesn't work.
'not used to failure of any kind, let alone dramatically epic fails'.
No. We've swung over slightly to your more informal narrator, but straight-up net slang is just not appropriate even in this kind of writing.
'Zelretch being whom he was'.
Ahahaha, no you bloody don't. Not on my watch. You know trying to be fancy and failing is worse than just saying what everyone else would say, yes? Especially in this case when what they'd say is also still the linguistically correct choice? You lose many marks. Many.
The tone settles down a bit after this point. I still don't quite have a handle on it and it's not really the best writing I've read, but at least somewhat competent and consistent.
'She hated the metaphor.'
Really ought to be 'that'.
Narrative tone continues to improve (and is generally more engaging). In terms of the characters, I'm not quite sure about even non-honour-student-Rin using 'Yeah' off-hand, but it's a marginal case.
I ... guess? It's true, but why would Rin think that then? What purpose does it have for your story? The thought's just sort of there and then nothing happens with it.her own house looking like it was a war zone!
For all that it was as much a training center for a war as it was a home after Father died.
I like some of the word-choice in this flashback. Very nice, Rin's description of Rider is particularly stand-out. The dialogue begins very well too, but begins to get bogged down in exposition/tell not show.
Very guilty of that here."Or rather, I ought to say that she doesn't want to know."
"Eh?"
"She could tell at once if she checked; she's still my Master, after all. But...I don't think it would be healthy for her to know. It's not like Shirou, who'd just be upset."
Rin nodded.
"Yes, she'd probably blame herself for not being able to support you, and she doesn't need any more burdens."
"I think that part of her knows it, so her subconscious keeps her from asking. And of course, I would never tell her."
Blood-sucking description is good. It does 'hot' very well (as it should), with some powerful description not edging too far over into melodrama. (Not too far). Still occasional bits where I'd like it tidied up, though. For example:
'Like the cruel monster of her legend, she refused to allow Rin the facade of distance and reserve.' is somewhat overwritten and should be cut down – at the least, I'm pretty sure you could kill either 'distance' or 'reserve' together with the conjunction and it'd work better.
Humour moving into RadiantBeam/Moczo style here. Feels very recognisable, though I don't think either should have an entry here. Emulation?
'The lack of simplicity in this matter was driven home again'.
Again, overwritten. Cut it down.
'wannabe'.
As before, I think this feels just that little bit off for Rin's tone.
“And I thought you turned people to stone, not set them on fire."
"Well, I was never a very good student of the elements."
I better be bloody meant to groan at these because I really am. Sodding hell. (If I am supposed to facepalm, please make that clearer. I don't want to be uncertain when it comes to lines like this).
Still good, hot writing as we go into the lemon itself.
'She leaned up, recapturing Rider's mouth in a searing kiss, then curled her fingers up, pressing two over the swollen bud within Rider's sex, beginning to stroke it in earnest.'
G-spot described as a swollen bud? Rider's clit inside her? Neither but you've not given a great hint about what I'm meant to be thinking of? Whichever it is …
"I suppose you could say that you swept me off my feet."
The cheesy lines, why do you keep inflicting them on me???????
Lemon keeps going, lemon is still good.
Blindfold! There are many, many erotic things to do with writing blindfolded characters (or being one). It's a shame that Rin was our principle viewpoint, I'd have loved to see a good section on this, and we've established that you do erotica well. All honesty, a few paragraphs of that and I might have given you another point. But I have a fetish, so lol.
This end … again, I'm not sure if it was necessary. Why look at them? Why move attention away from your principle characters? (And why the hint that Sakura knew about Rin's arrival and therefore set up Rider to be there? How on earth could she have known that? I find this quite strange indeed).
Conclusion:
The narrative really did start off all over the place, and was settling down towards the middle. I don't know if you spent more time on the beginning and were therefore forcing it instead of letting your natural style come through, or if it just took time to get into the flow. Either way, it was more pronounced at the start, but I could see it all the way through - a serious (sometimes too serious) tone clashing against something quite informal and light-hearted, and it put me off pretty badly to begin with. Eventually, I found you settled it down reasonably. Not that I didn't feel the tone stopped moving around (which did drop the coherence of this a bit), but the breaks were a bit more natural and the blocks of serious/humour.
That serious tone tends to involve you over-writing a lot. You really need to look at several of your sentences and realise you could say the same things much more simply, in fewer words. (This will also probably improve immediate reading comprehension, which is another good thing). That also ought to give you much more room to fiddle with pacing and flow. Complex constructions aren't always a bad thing, but they shouldn't be a default, and I felt it was that way at times. I've picked out several examples: it might help if you remember how you were writing at that point - if you were in a particular mood, if you went through way too many drafts and doubts, whatever - and learned to recognise those times. Then you can compensate.
On the plus side, you went to write a lemon and you did that very well when you got to it. Not 100% perfect masterclass, but still pretty excellent by most standards. (Please don't take the fact that I've ranted far more about the problems while just leaving one-line comments saying 'the lemon's good' the wrong way, it's just easier to say 'this is bad, I suggest fixing it like this' than 'this is good … do it again?' Those single lines are worth several of the bad paragraphs. And for all that I got at your tone, you did eventually sort that out and I was being much less jarred by the end.
Score: 0/10, learn to use whom, start understanding grammar.
Oh, all right, you can have back some of the marks you lost for screwing that up. (Some). For a serious verdict ... you've no more serious errors than our first lemon of the contest (though they're perhaps slightly worse, despite being no more numerous), and a fair few extra minor problems; meanwhile, your high points are generally higher and you obviously hit your goal very well. I was properly aroused reading this, and you definitely did very well on the erotica side. A 7, easily moving up to 8 with some tone fixes, and if everything was tidied and improved, 9 is probably within reach.
Beast's Lair: Useful Notes
(Lightweight | PDF)
Updated 01/01/15
If posts are off-topic, trolling, terrible or offensive, please allow me to do my job. Reporting keeps your forum healthy.
Seika moderates: modly clarifications, explanations, Q&A, and the British conspiracy to de-codify BL's constitution.
Democracy on Beast's Lair
Can't really say I have a favorite between the two, but I admit to being biased toward Rider and blindfold. XP
And I agree with Seika on that section, at the very least on maybe adding some focus on Rider during it.
Originally Posted by Seika
F/GO SUPPORT
I kind of feel like I need to go over my own critiques and hit them for arsing up the writing. I can see unclosed brackets, at least two sentences I didn't actually finish ... tut.
Anyway, I've now received feedback from both authors, and no huge debates from either. That said, the writer of Not The Welcome wishes to point out that I missed the half-line indicating Sakura was mixed up with Zelretch, so my picking at the logic of what she'd done was my own fault. From there I see that it's slightly more beneficial to the story than I first thought, but I'm still not quite sure if it was worth it to fade away to Sakura's household afterwards. I have also been reassured that I ought to have been groaning at those cheesy lines, and that I'd perhaps lowered my standards too far if I was considering that they might have been serious.
Beast's Lair: Useful Notes
(Lightweight | PDF)
Updated 01/01/15
If posts are off-topic, trolling, terrible or offensive, please allow me to do my job. Reporting keeps your forum healthy.
Seika moderates: modly clarifications, explanations, Q&A, and the British conspiracy to de-codify BL's constitution.
Democracy on Beast's Lair
Hello everyone. I unfortunately got a little preoccupied, but I did want to provide some kind of feedback for the folks that entered the contest. Of course, I'm not a judge, but I did want to use the same criteria as the judges to give a better picture of what I thought of each entry. That much said, I have to say that the Lemon category was probably the most intimidating. The potential for absolute embarrassment is higher here than any other section, plus the merits of a good story don't even matter as much in this section. If no one has said it yet, I want to thanks to you two for your entries, and good luck with the judging.
I'll start with Memories/Dreams.
And on to the other story in the section, Not The Welcome She Was Expecting.Technically, I felt like this story was alright. The prose was clear enough for me to understand what was going on and that’s pretty much all I ask when it comes to this aspect of writing. Unfortunately, there were quite a few tense issues present, and I felt like you relied on the ellipsis a bit too much so I knocked a few points off. 22.
As far as artistry was concerned, we have to be real. It’s erotica so most of the focus is on the sex. I’ll get to that later, though. The first thing of notice here is the pacing. The story is fleeting, almost flying by the reader, but I felt like it was intentional on part of the writer. If so, I liked the way that was handled. I also have to make mention of the transitions. I’d normally associate them more with the technical part of writing, but, here, coupled with the pacing, I felt that they added more to the entry. The transitions were jarring for the right reasons. Still, because of the nature of the story, a lot of description was glossed over, but I’m okay with that much, especially considering the kind of story I believe the writer wanted. As far as the content goes, I felt like it could have been better. When you’re writing erotica, you want to keep the reader on a ride. Vocabulary, knowledge, pacing, and characterization are the tools you use to keep that path clear of any obstructions. When you falter, when even one of your tools aren’t utilized to the fullest degree, the path starts to get rocky. Readers start to trip over words that take them out of the experience, start to get a chuckle out of line that was supposed to invoke something more heartfelt, and it only gets worse. Here, I felt like you did okay. I questioned a few word choices, but that’s the case with any story. I’d say 18.
Characterization was cool with me for the most part. I saw Shirou and I saw Ilya when I read this story. That’s all I can really ask for considering the nature of the entry, but I would have liked to see more. In particular, I would have liked to see his anxiety expanded on, but, it is a lemon after all. 14.
This is an easy ten as far as consistency go. I felt like writer did exactly what he or she wanted to do and maintained a good hold over the story. It was a lemon, always was, but that didn’t keep the writer from not bothering with anything aside from the sex. Every scene had a purpose. 10.
Unfortunately, it’s not all that unique idea and I didn’t see anything that set it apart from the other stories I’ve read like it. I’ve seen him struggle with being a hero, I’ve seen Ilya support him before, and read a lemon with the paring that was about the same. However, that doesn’t take away from this entry all that much. It’s a story I’ve seen a few times, but it was still an alright story. I’d put uniqueness at 6.
Overall, at a total of 70, I ultimately felt like this entry was above average. I was a little lenient on account of it being erotica, but I still feel like it would fared a lot better with a little more polish. Solid entry, regardless. Good job.
Hmm, if I had to pick out my favorite things in both stories? In Memories/Dreams, I liked the idea and the approach. It would have been better if there was a little more to reflect on, but it's cool. Another thing was that I liked how the pacing was handled in that entry. Not the Welcome She Was Expecting was really nice simply because of the chemistry developed between Rin and Rider. A good number of slash stories kind of bumble around when it comes to establishing the paring before just straight jumping into the intimacy so it comes off as feeling contrived and the entry thankfully avoided that altogether. It's too bad, but the clear difference between these two entries in my opinion is that one capitalized on the potential of the story and the other just missed the mark a bit.In terms of technical ability, this story was excellent. Clarity is all technical writing really seeks to achieve and this story was like a window. I didn’t notice any spelling or grammar errors, but I’m not the sort to catch them unless I’m making an effort to actively look for them. Definitely deserves a top score in my opinion. 30.
Artistry, to me, is the writing style, and such rich, descriptive writing is the best friend of someone submitting erotica. Putting the sex aside for now, there are a few things I want to point out that I felt was really well done in this entry. The dialogue felt natural for the most part. I’ll come back to this in characterization later, but it’s really easy to get lax and end up with wooden dialogue serving to only fill some space. I make mention of it here because it amounted to more than just witty banter or the like. The dialogue added a lot to the story as a whole, even in the sex scene. There was definitely substance here, too. The writer spent a good part of the story establishing and fostering intimacy. That, by itself, is a big deal when it comes to lemons. Delving into that connection and bringing out the finer details of their relationship to light for the reader to appreciate? Not a particularly easy thing to do, especially while handling yuri. And it’s a lemon on top of that. Getting back to the sex, I felt like it was done exceptionally well. The groundwork laid earlier in the story enhanced the experience. There were a few instances where I’d nitpick, but I really think this was a pretty good job. 27.
Characterization was handled really well. Naturally, the characters at the heart of the story were the ones that captured the spotlight and the writer rose to the occasion. Characterization is at its best when there’s a wealth of depth, when there’s more to the character than just shallow extremes. I could make a laundry list with how many facets of Rin and Rider were shown. Zeltrech was a really nice touch, too. At the end, though, Shirou and Sakura felt a little too forced, but I supposed that ties into the next metric. I'd say this was an 18.
Consistency takes a minor hit because the last scene felt tacked on to me. I understand why the writer wanted to close the story with that scene, but I think it would have been better to end with Rin and Rider as opposed to shifting to Shirou and Sakura. Other than that, the story surpassed just being a lemon story. It felt closer to a romance that naturally evolved into having a scene with sex in it. I’d go with a 8 here.
I’ve seen Rin/Rider before, but I’ve never seen it done this well. More than that, entering yuri into a contest is bold. The degree of difficulty here was higher than most of the other stories in the contest in my and I feel like the writer outdid him or herself. It’s not a unique story, but overcoming those hurdles involved with this entry deserves something. I think a 7 fits.
Overall, it’s a 90. The writing was strong, but the backbone of this entry was found in its characterization and concept. It’s not easy to write slash for a contest. It’s risky for a multitude of reasons, but the writer made it work. I feel like this story is contender for the grand prize.
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