There are some things in life that when added together becomes awesome by exponential powers instead of linearly. This is one of them.
There are some things in life that when added together becomes awesome by exponential powers instead of linearly. This is one of them.
What is man? A miserable little pile of secrets. But enough talk... Have at you!
DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. The Night World and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of L.J. Smith, along with her publishers Simon and Schuster.
This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.
Chapter 2
“Nee-san!”
Rin automatically crouched down and opened her arms to the small form all but flying towards them. Small, slightly rounded arms wrapped surprisingly firmly around Rin’s neck before the precious cargo was lifted up securely. “Sakura,” Rin murmured as she ran her fingers through silken black hair, more baby fine than Rin’s thick waves.
Large violet eyes looked up, the strange combination of childlike innocence at war with cold, predatory instincts. “What happened Nee-san?” Sakura asked as her nose crinkled at the smell of smoke that was probably firmly imbedded into Rin’s hair and clothing.
“Someone decided to pull an attitude with your Nee-san and Sempai,” Rin answered with a snort as she shifted the small form in her eyes.
Sakura smiled, displaying tiny, needle like fangs in her pouting mouth. She said, “You and Sempai took care of them, right, Nee-san?”
“Yes,” Rin said with a nod as she struggled under the strain of her burden. Even though Sakura was tiny, Rin wasn’t exactly large herself. She knelt down and Sakura climbed out her arms before her chilled hand took her own. “They won’t be coming to hurt anyone again,” the young witch added.
A frown marred Sakura’s round face as she looked away from Rin. “I’m tired of people getting hurt, Nee-san,” came the soft reply from behind the fall of raven silk.
Rin sighed and said, “I’m tired of it too, Sakura.”
Again small arms wrapped themselves firmly around a slim waist, the small head burrowing into familiar warmth. Never again, Rin thought as she looked at her precious sister, who in all actuality was just one year younger than her. Rin shook off the dark thought and forced a smile on her face. She said, “So, how’s my little cherry blossom? Hungry? Have they been treating you well here?”
“Blaise-nee has been really nice to me!” Sakura said with a smile.
Eyes narrowed and heat blossomed at the mention of that name. “Oh, really?” Rin asked as she felt her jaw clinch and her teeth grind ever so slightly together. Then she frowned and asked, “Blaise-nee? Sakura, that girl’s not your sister . . .”
Sakura frowned, her face scrunching up as her violet eyes narrowed. “But I thought we were all sisters.”
I never was and never will be. Fuck this sister unity uselessness. I have my sister and Shirou. I don’t need others slowing me down, she thought. Rin shook her head and said, “Not anymore, Sakura.”
“But you’re a witch right?” Sakura asked with a cant of her head.
Rin bit her lip and replied, “Well, yes.”
“I thought all witches were supposed to be sisters,” Sakura said in a soft voice, “At least that’s what Blaise told me. Lady Iliana said it’s very important for us to stay together and united.”
But my baby sister’s not a witch. Not anymore. Father’s poor decisions stopped that a long time ago, Rin thought. There were only three people that she would pray to the Goddess for, and one of those was simply for her Shirou’s sake.
I’m not alone here. I never will be alone here, and I’ll protect Shirou and Sakura from themselves. She hugged the small girl again and said, “Well, Iliana’s right, but there’s a difference between comrades in arms and family.”
“I understand that,” Sakura said in a slow voice as she stepped away from Rin, the purple skirt of her romper dress swaying with each step.
“Hey, you’re not giving your sister trouble, are you?” a familiar, low, rough and steel-laden voice said from behind Rin.
Rin smiled and said, “No, but if that bitch keeps this up I’ll give her a black eye.”
“I’m not surprised you’re not buying into the whole Sisterly Unity idea,” Shirou said with a slight chuckle as he was impacted by sixty pounds of little girl.
Sakura smiled up at him with a cry of, “Sempai!”
“Kohai,” he said with a wink as he lifted her up. He looked her in the eye and asked, “Have you been good, Sakura?”
“Yes, Sempai. I’m having fun here. Blaise has shown me a lot of neat stuff, Iliana likes to take me shopping with her and Winnie and Nissa play games with me. Winnie can make fire between her palms,” Sakura said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around Shirou.
Rin’s chest tightened at the sight of the tall, muscular white haired vampire holding the raven haired little girl as if it was the easiest thing in the world to him. Then again he had practice with Ilya, she thought.
Rin? He sent to her, his golden-brown eyes meeting hers. Admittedly, the eye colour did look good on him, but Rin found herself missing his steel grey stare.
She swallowed and sent back, How are you doing?
I’m not made out of swords, Shirou sent back, a frown crossing his face. A sense of loss rippled through the silver cord binding them together. There was no Unlimited Blade Works here, just Emiya Shirou the vampire blacksmith and Blood Traitor. Just as there was no Second Magic here, but at least Rin had other things she could build from.
Rin sent, I’m sorry.
I’ll manage, he replied. How are you doing?
Rin smiled at Sakura as she stroked her hair. The little girl smiled and leaned into the touch, causing Rin’s chest to tighten ever so slightly. Sakura and you are here with me, Rin admitted with a shrug, It could be worse.
Rin, your sister’s not a normal little girl, Shirou said, his mental voice filled with something like anguish or grief.
Rin bit her lip and shook her head, trying to suppress the powerful image of Sakura’s “corpse” in her mind. She answered aloud, “I guess your Ilya’s not as all powerful to keep Sakura from suffering.” I guess I’m not as all powerful to keep her from suffering either.
Sakura frowned and asked, “Nee-san? What happened?”
“Guess I got knocked in the head too hard today, Sakura. Your big sister’s fine, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you again,” Rin said as she reached up and squeezed her hand.
“What do you mean they got away?”
Matou Shinji glared at the flinching made vampire before him. He strode over to the punk and repeated, “What do you mean they got away?”
“Well . . . Tohsaka and the Blood Traitor . . . Not to mention the mongrel princess’ bodyguard is Aozaki and a tiger. American from the looks of him before he transformed and almost ate us,” the quivering minion said.
Shinji ran a hand through his thick, black hair and said, “You had LAWs rocket launchers. I don’t care how powerful a witch Tohsaka is, or how dangerous the Blood Traitor is, or if that half breed brat the Church bitch’s daughter, or if they had ten tigers! Nothing short of a Wild Power can stop a rocket launcher! You should have been able to capture the Blood Traitor, the bastard princess, and the witch and brought them back here - like I fucking ordered you to, moron!”
“But . . . The King only wants the princess,” the simpering minion said, brown eyes looking up into Shinji’s.
Shinji snorted and said, “I want them alive. The Blood Traitor and Tohsaka owe me a great grievance.”
“We’ll get them next time, my lord,” the minion said, taking a bow.
Shinji sighed and said, “Of course you will. If not, I’m going to stab a foot and a half of unseasoned pine through your chest and twist.”
The made piece of trash scampered off and Shinji shook his head. He smoothed down his white lapels before heading to the throne room. Their secret base had been a literal castle of a drug lord before the Shapeshifter King had taken a fancy to it. The dragon was fickle and arrogant, but had enough power to destroy the world if he so chose.
And if he craves some bastard princess to bend over, I’m not going to begrudge him that, Shinji thought as he took a deep breath. Long-fingered hands forced open the heavy wooden door. Sensitive eyes adjusted rapidly to the light as the faint smells of musk, blood, and gold filled receptive nostrils. Candles flickered ever so slightly as the lovely sight of a handful of lamia like Shinji littered the spacious room.
At the very end of the hall a regal figure with thick gold hair dressed in black lounged on a heavy, plush chair lined with precious metals and stones. Even from Shinji’s distance the smell of ozone pulsed in his nose and caused the hairs on the back of his arms and neck to rise. The lazy figure sat up before crimson eyes met Shinji’s.
Shinji swallowed at the impressive sight before bowing deeply. “Your Highness,” he said before rising.
“You failed,” the Dragon King said with a scowl.
Shinji gritted his teeth and said, “Those morons failed.”
“I should be bedding a princess to beget useful soldiers of my bloodline, but yet here we stand,” was the slow, thick reply.
Again, Shinji bowed and said, “My apologizes, your Highness.”
“Do not apologize again. I want Ilya at my side and in my bed. She will be the first of my many brides as I bring my line to glory once again,” the Dragon King Gilgamesh said with a smile.
*****
Takara’s mind had officially had enough. After entering the Grail War less than a week ago, having her baseline reality overwritten by a primordial demon god from another dimension, gaining the memories of her original existence back and integrating them with those of the new one, and now this, the filter that kept hold of her sanity was now officially overloaded. For heaven’s sake - she’d watched her mother die less than an hour ago! And this new part of her simultaneously insisted that her mother was still alive, and feared that the memory of her death was true!
So when Ilya (and who was she? Where had she come from?) presented her wrist, Takara recoiled, even as her eyes locked onto the interweaving pattern of veins on that oh-so-white skin. Such pale, so pure, like fresh snow - against it, they looked like delicate calligraphic patterns drawn in indigo-coloured India ink . . .
She whimpered deep in her throat, unsure herself whether it was in revulsion or anticipation, and sprang away, misjudging her new strength level badly enough to hurl her body forcibly against the join between the ceiling and the wall behind her. The brief spurt of pain caused white stars to bloom behind her eyes for a second, as did a second impact with the floor, and Takara curled instinctively into a ball, trying to pull away from the room as best she could. Unfortunately, she couldn’t escape the turmoil inside her mind so easily . . .
She was Takara Aozaki, daughter of the artist Shiki Aozaki and the schoolteacher Ciel Aozaki, and this had been true for nearly all of her life. She liked chocolate, kendo, and sitting on a cushion in her family’s parlour to read while bathed in a sunbeam from the room’s picture window. This was especially pleasant when her Aunt Aoko’s cat Ren was visiting, and she could hold a book in one hand and stroke the black cat curled in her lap with the other. Her best (and pretty much only) friends were Momoko Inoue and Arisa Miyamura, a pair as different as night and day - almost literally - but as devoted to each other as she was to them. Takara’s major goal in life was to be a bride, and she admitted, if only to herself, that kendo*captain Tatsuya Yamaguchi was a major candidate for her groom, being one of the few boys not to ridicule her mixed heritage or tomboy tendencies.
Barely days ago, she’d become Takara Nanaya, daughter of the Church’s Seventh Executioner, Ciel, and Shiki Nanaya, making her one of two survivors of that legendary clan of demon hunters, wielder of a lesser variant of the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, and a supposed potential magus on par with her legendary mother. As well, she was an adopted child of the infamous Aozaki family of magi, and goddaughter to Arcueid Brunestud, the White Princess of the True Ancestors. She was also a Master in the Heaven’s Feel, the sixth such war for the Holy Grail, whose Servant was Avenger, a nameless gunslinger whose mastery of illusion and retribution had allowed him to defeat a Servant previously deemed unstoppable. She was also the technical winner of the Grail, having bargained with the actual one to receive her wish that her father survive his illness.
And then it had all changed again . . .
In the last twelve hours, she’d become Takara Aozaki, newly called Vampire Slayer and Chosen One, daughter of another. She had joined with her Watcher, Rin Tohsaka, her mother, and Arcueid Brunestud, the vampire with a soul, to combat Illyria, a demonic god-king of the Primordium Age. They had been joined in the struggle by Emiya Shirou, Child of the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart - and in the previous reality, an albino psychopath who’d tried to ritually sacrifice her to become the Holy Grail . . . And when that had failed, he’d turned to her mother instead. And the final member of their band, the undead spirit now called Jester, her slain Servant resurrected and turned to some other purpose, a different Master - supposedly, the Grail itself.
The battle with Illyria had been brutal, resulting in the death of her mother, Arcueid, and she was uncertain how many others - but they had won, in a manner of speaking. Illyria had been destroyed - had self-destructed, and the backlash had brought them here, to this place she didn’t know. To yet another world she didn’t know. But part of her insisted it did.
That part of her claimed that she was Takara Aozaki, daughter of Ciel, a witch raised by the Church to hunt her own kind, and other Night People, and of Shiki Nanaya, last survivor of the Japanese clan of lamia Enforcers, a family of living vampires who hunted and destroyed those vampires who broke the rules of the Night World. He had been taken in at a young age by Aoko Aozaki, one of the more powerful witches in one of the most influential witch bloodlines in Japan - and her mother’s teacher of witch powers and history. For all of Takara’s life, they had been in hiding from the Church, who sought their runaway, and the Tohno clan of lamia, longtime rivals who sought to finish what they’d begun, and end the Nanaya line. And yesterday, the Tohno had found them.
The plan had been hastily enacted, but prepared on some level from the moment of her birth. Her father had left with Aoko, her mother with Touko, scattering her family to the proverbial four winds, in an effort to confuse their pursuers, and divide their strength. Takara herself had been sent with a contact of her aunts’ in the mysterious and secretive Circle Daybreak, a young witch by the name of Rin Tohsaka, and her vampire partner. They had arrived in California barely an hour ago, and had been on their way to the Daybreakers’ safe house alongside a second group when . . .
Here her memories were washed away in a tide of fire, and Takara found herself drowning in it. Each aspect of her self, her changed history, insisted that it was the true one. Currently, the Slayer was the weakest of the three, but the fact that the newest was a vampire - an existence that her prior incarnations had literally been born to destroy - was causing no small amount of turmoil. Especially when, as Ilya had implied, her instincts insisted that she was thirsty, and sending a dull, dry ache through her body to prove it. An ache that was slowly but steadily worsening, along with a muted, but rapidly escalating buzz in her head . . .
Takara! The voice - deep, sharp and anxious - cut through the buzz, and she lifted her head to see Gabriel gazing at her tensely. Takara, can you hear me?
What was he talking about? Of course she could hear him, the way he was shouting . . . Wait, his lips weren’t moving . . .!
Vampires are natural telepaths - now focus, Takara, said Gabriel’s voice - her Servant’s voice, a hard voice warmed by barely leashed anger. It was familiar, and one of the few constants throughout all the lives she remembered, and all the faces he’d worn. She latched onto the fact as she tried to settle her thoughts and memories into something resembling a coherent whole.
Your new incarnation needs blood, Takara, he informed her. It doesn’t have to be often, and it doesn’t have to be human, but it has to be alive. I know that’s bad, but without it, you’ll literally suffocate. Using your physical abilities and vampiric Powers burns through blood faster, and we’ve all gone through a lot of strain tonight. The thirst has already started to affect your movements, your reactions, and if you don’t feed soon, you’ll lose the ability to think and react like anything human. You’re liable to kill your meal then, and you won’t much care what - or who - that happens to be.
She wasn’t aware of her lips moving, and the voice that emerged was almost too muffled, too thick, to recognise as her own, but Takara heard herself reply, “I . . . I don’t want to - ”
“I know you don’t,” came a voice which was like her Servant’s, but also not. It was quiet and warm like his, but powerful and also oddly musical, in the same sense that Takara had learned to associate with large, dark-skinned foreign actors. Like James Earl Jones or Michael Clarke Duncan, it was a baritone rumble that warmed something deep inside her.
“I know you don’t,” he repeated softly, “but Takara, you need to, while you can still care about what you do, and why. Because if it gets to the point where you start to starve - where you’ll attack anything that’s alive just to get at the blood in their veins - then we’ll have to stop you . . . And there’s only one way to be sure of stopping you, and I don’t want to do that.”
“None of us do,” said the white-haired girl - Ilyasviel, the others called her. “So here.”
“Ilya-dono!” Gabriel snapped, in an abrupt and dismayed voice.
“You’re the only one she might trust for this, but you can’t afford to be weakened,” she replied harshly. “If the plot runs as deep as we think, I’m in as much danger here as I was outside, so I need you at your best - and you’re still pretty battered as it is. Not to mention you have your own appetites to deal with.”
Shapeshifters need flesh like vampires need blood, Takara’s lamia self informed her. If I’m thirsty, he must be hungry - and an animal that big takes a lot of feeding.
She could smell it, so close - that snow-fresh skin, and the promise of what lay beneath it . . . So close . . .
Takara shuddered, reluctantly acknowledging the truth. Between the thirst and battling personalities, she was half-mad already. Resisting would only finish the job - if she wanted to be able to think clearly, she needed to put one or the other half of her problems at rest. And, like it or not, in these conditions the thirst was easier to satisfy than the question of her true identity.
The latest (and possibly last) Nanaya licked suddenly dry lips as previously unknown muscles in her mouth caused her canines to extend, exposing them as delicate, cat-like fangs. She hovered uncertainly over Ilya’s wrist for a moment.
“Turn your back,” Ilya ordered abruptly, and the Japanese girl froze in confusion.
“Princess!” came the protest, and she realised that the white-haired girl had meant Gabriel.
“We ladies need our privacy,” Ilya insisted. “Turn your back - and watch the door. No sense in embarrassing all of us by having someone barge in.”
With a sigh, Gabriel did as ordered, leaving Takara unwatched as she contemplated what she was about to do, and wondered exactly how to do it. Fortunately, the new body’s instincts worked just as well without any input from her conscious mind, directing her to bite gently into the girl’s arm.
A rush of salty sweetness, warm and wonderful, filled her mouth - and Takara allowed it to wash all her cares away . . .
"Archer, what the hell happened?"
Shirou blinked at the compact young man with black hair and eyes like obsidian standing before him. For the moment, he was alone - Ilya was presumably still feeding Takara, much to Gabriel's discomfort, while Rin was putting Sakura to bed - it would be dawn soon, and while the sun wasn't exactly lethal, no vampire liked it. That left him to brood about what had happened. Only a few people knew of where their motley crew had been going and what they were planning to do, including the made vampire before him. However Shirou seriously doubted that Quinn would betray them.
One reason was that his soulmate and lover was a particularly impressive vampire hunter called "The Cat" and would have his heart on her wooden sword if he did such a thing. The other reason was that Quinn, despite his outwardly coldness, had a very strict code of honor that he adhered to.
So he's not our narc, Shirou thought, knowing fully well to keep his thoughts shielded around his friend. However, Quinn would be a giant help finding that bastard, the Japanese lamia thought.
This world was all new, and of course Gabriel knew all of the rules. He was still Emiya Shirou of a lost lamia family from Japan, orphaned and raised by a family of vampire hunters of all things before the grandson of the man who raised Shirou, Kiritsugu, married Ilya's mother, the lady Irisviel Drache. He acted as a bodyguard to Kiritsugu and his family until returning to Japan to investigate a family of lamia that was threatening to expose the Night World. While in Japan he had ran into the heir to the House Tohsaka, an eight year old girl named Rin.
A prodigy witch who had sought him out in a crowd, looked up at him with burning aquamarine eyes and demanded that he cut the silver cord binding them.
Soulmates.
An ironic term for former Master and Servant, but their souls were bound to each other in this new plane of reality. It was even more intense than being in love. When they parted they felt the lack of the other being away. It was like having part of oneself torn away and forced to live and work with that integral part missing. Yet when they were together it was electric, tiny sparks and an utter wholeness that was good and right. A closeness that was beyond words, a closeness that they were being able to explore as Rin matured.
Apparently there was just something hanging between them in this reality. The fact that he was now forever twenty-two while she would grow old and die unless he "made" her a vampire. Ironically he would stand by her decision no matter what, but ultimately it was Rin's choice to either live and die as a mortal witch or become a vampire.
Shaking his head, the white haired man brought himself to the present and said without words, but to Quinn's mind, Someone tattled.
Well, that makes things difficult, Quinn replied, his mental voice like a cool wind. Quinn's telepathic abilities dwarfed Shirou's own. Quinn could put someone asleep from across the room with enough concentration. However in combat, Shirou was confidant that in a fight he would ultimately win, and it wasn't because he was almost a head taller than the other man or outweighed him by a good forty pounds, but because he simply was that good when it came to battle.
His nickname came from his skill with a bow, even though he preferred the short swords blessed by Rin's magic. Then again, he was responsible for a lot of Daybreak's more personal weapons, even the replacement swords that Quinn's own Rashel needed after her original ones broke.
Quinn's black eyes narrowed as he asked, Are you okay? You're generally more focused than this, and what's up with the landscape of swords?
"John, please stay out of my Shirou's head," Rin said from behind the other vampire. Quinn looked annoyed that she'd managed to sneak up on him, but it was to her credit that even Shirou, with their bond, hadn't fully realised she was that close.
"I asked Rashel to ask you not to call me that," Quinn said with gritted teeth.
She grinned and said, "She does, speaking of which . . ."
"You want to tell me what happened?" Quinn asked her.
Shirou shook his head and said, "Not with the mood she's in. Also, keep Redfern away from Gabriel, Takara and Ilya right now. They're not in the mood to deal with him. Especially Gabriel - if I know him at all, he'll be looking for someone to hurt."
You know, I'm not your errand boy, boy, Quinn thought at him with a half smile before leaving the two of them alone.
Shirou swallowed as he and Rin's eyes met, the silver cord humming between them as electricity strummed over his skin. Heat cut through him and bubbled up, dousing him in napalm and lighting it as need raced through him. "I don't know what's going on here," Rin said as she took a step towards him, "All of these memories, these flashes . . . Sakura and . . ."
Predatory instincts swelled to the front, sensitive nostrils were filled with the scent of tea and roses. Shirou didn't speak, didn't do anything but pull Rin into his arms. She offered no resistance, and if anything, her lips found his first.
OOoooohh, nice!
LOL.and what's up with the landscape of swords?
Originally Posted by Space_Mook From SpaceBattles
*Scratches his head* waaiiiitt... I thought I saw this somewhere before.
*springs a gear* you're trying to kill me off with deja vu!
<mrtags> At least I got to be lancer the space marine, drm got omake'd into the little pink and purple butt plunger
<DrmChsr0> I have to admit, it was funny.
Don't displease Tiny Turtle
*curses* Elf, we need a new dastardly plan!
I can think of something.
DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. The Night World and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of L.J. Smith, along with her publishers Simon and Schuster.
This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.
Chapter 3
Gabriel found himself standing, waiting, and watching. It was amazing how easily it came to him, given that he’d never been particularly patient by nature. He wondered, idly, if it was the influence of his human other self, or the tiger other self - and that was a new sensation, according to the other’s memories. Gabriel didn’t do idle, or wondering, as such. He wasn’t raised to even consider it, unless it was part of a cover. He was Ilya’s guard of last resort, the one meant to stand between her and a silver bullet, wherever or whenever she happened to be. Speculation was not part of the job, unless it was to consider strategies to extract her from a dangerous situation, or take out hostiles, or . . .
Cripes, it’s like having Jason Bourne in my head! His eyes were constantly taking in things without seeming to move: mapping out entrances and exits, defensible positions to fall back to, places where weapons might be stored or items, he could use as weapons. Routes out of the room to the parking garage with minimal distance and exposure, which cars were easily hot-wired or best positioned to exit the building - even which ones were most likely to have a gun concealed in the glove compartment, or under the seat. Any possibility which might affect Ilya’s being removed safely from the premises was considered and planned around.
And everything in the weretiger’s head was like that. He knew enough about popular culture, or just about any other subject, to pass without raising suspicion, but none of it aroused any kind of pleasure in him. Night People were taught to blend in with the general human population as a matter of course, but Gabriel’s training went further. He was Ilya’s nursemaid, her surgeon - her driver, dance partner, personal chef, general dogsbody, assassin – anything. More, he had been trained to be able to go anywhere she did, assuming personae appropriate to the venue. He knew enough about etiquette to escort her to a formal dinner with the Queen of England at Buckingham Palace, or to an AC/DC concert in an underground rave club, and seem totally at home in either place. If it was required, he could even pass as a woman to a limited extent, thanks to his knowledge of cosmetics, prostheses, and movement.
And that didn’t even begin to cover his skills. Gabriel could fence, shoot just about any firearm (or crossbow), build or dismantle bombs, mix poisons or their antidotes, write computer viruses, speak seven languages, drive boats or cars, fly planes and helicopters - or take them out . . . The CIA only dreamed of having agents with training this comprehensive! From the moment he started learning to walk, the First House had trained him to be not just a bodyguard, but anything and everything Ilyasviel Drache might possibly require over the course of her life. His very existence revolved around maintaining her safety and her happiness - roughly in that order.
And that was it. There was nothing else to him - no sense of self whatsoever. He liked nothing, disliked nothing, and thought about nothing else but Ilya. His world was her, and her alone. Even the loss of the two maids, who had been Gabriel’s colleagues for years, and the closest thing he’d ever had to mother or sister figures . . . There was a vague sadness there, but nothing in comparison to the anger over what Ilya had nearly suffered tonight. It was the only real emotion he could find - that Gabriel had come so close to failing, so close to losing her - but beyond that, the weretiger was basically a hollow shell. Becoming him was simple, because there was almost nothing to fight against in him. Not so long as he, too, sought to protect Ilya.
And to that end, he stood, he waited, and he watched, opening all his senses to take in the available information around him, even as he processed what he’d experienced - or could remember experiencing - of the last few hours. The attack had been well-manned, well-armed, well-planned, and well-executed. He wasn't even certain why it had failed, never mind who was behind it. Nevertheless, Gabriel closed his eyes, and wound his memory back through scenes of smoke, sound, and fire . . . His eyes abruptly shot open. The attack hadn't failed. They'd used multiple assault weapons - between the rounds and the rockets, the limousine had been torn to pieces . . .
And then we arrived. Somehow, the merging of their identities had revitalised the Night People, brought them back from the brink. They had a second chance, now - one that no one could've expected.
And I swear to you girls - both of you - that I'll see to it you'll never need a third.
He deliberately did not look behind him, or pay any attention to what his senses were telling him was going on, though he might as well have - from this close, the scent of Ilyasviel's blood was thick in the air - as was that of Takara's reactions to it. Blood was everything to a vampire - even a lamia. Life, Power - it all flowed from that source. Small wonder that for a creature which mimicked humans so well, it triggered a sex response, as well.
The fact that his mistress was currently being fed on put him in two minds. The first reaction was to gut Takara like a fish for daring to bare her fangs anywhere near the princess. It went against every instinct, natural and trained, to allow her to be injured - the part of him that was the weretiger had literally been born to be her protector, and he roared at the thought of even this slight lapse. The part of him that had most recently been the Grail's Mediator, however, was pointing out that a vampiric version of Takara's Nanaya side (at least in appearance) was currently engaging in bloodplay with another girl and being aroused by it - and, if she followed the standard lamia doctrine, arousing Ilya in return to make the feeding less painful for her. That added up to potential vampiric lesbian sex between two of the hottest girls he knew – come on! How could he not want to watch?
The two points of view were not very compatible, and the conflicting impulses they produced were the only reason he hadn't attempted to either kill Takara, or to join in. Finally, that inner voice, acting as a neutral third party, suggested going back over things in his head to try and narrow down the traitor's identity. The possibilities were limited, after all - in the interests of security, their route had only decided on a half hour before they’d departed, one of a dozen potential ones that had been mapped out using various modes of transport. While the other side probably had the resources to cover them all, if they’d known about them, only Daybreak’s top people had been given knowledge of every route. The rest had been broken into packages - one group got the helicopter routes, another the boat routes, and so on.
It was a logistical nightmare, frankly, but it had its benefits - in the event that one segment was leaked, they could’ve switched modes and the other side would’ve hopefully never known. And in this case, it should make their rat hunt easier, because only the aforementioned top people were aware of that aspect of their planning.
So unless we want to start accusing Lord Thierry or Mother Cybele of treason, we start with the people who knew about the car routes, since that’s what we ultimately went with.
He deliberately did not add the shapeshifters’ representatives to that list - if any faction of Night People was likely to have had it in for Ilya, they would’ve been it. And while he knew Galen was a decent young man, his parents were known as fierce warriors, in the traditional style of the Drache line. And Galen’s recent boost in status for slaying the dragon Azhdeha and protecting the Witch Child aside, it was still his parents who ruled the First House.
I also want to know how the traitor contacted them so quickly - this enclave is supposed to be ridiculously secure, but within thirty minutes, the other side had a hit squad deployed with enough firepower to take us out. Which means they had to have had some warning about our identities, too - otherwise, how could they have assembled such a heavy arsenal so quickly?
A cold chill shot through the weretiger as he considered the question that fact raised, the question being Just how deeply has Daybreak been penetrated?
Gabriel's nostrils flared instinctively as they suddenly scented fresh blood close by, amidst the smoke-and-ash cocktail that wafted off their bodies. That, combined with the familiar flashes of Power earlier, told him that Shirou was probably feeding, as well. Good - they’d need him in top form, since as of right now, he and Rin were the only people he could trust outside of this room. The so-called Blood Traitor wasn’t a bad ally to have, either - a lot of his hundred-plus years had been spent hunting his own kind, so he knew how to spot the dangerous ones fairly well, and how to fight things at his own level of power, not just prey on weaker things. The weretiger’s memories weren’t as in-depth when it came to Rin - he only knew about the vampire because he’d been among several files listed as a potential future threat. But he suspected she would be as formidable as Shirou.
If not more so. Witches are tricky to start with, and when you add in the fact that it’s Rin Tohsaka . . . Yeah, this could be interesting, to say the least.
“That’s enough,” Ilya said calmly, and Gabriel turned, prepared to rip Takara off her if she couldn’t manage enough control to disengage of her own volition. The Nanaya girl, however, merely pulled away, locking eyes with the weretiger as she found herself unable to look at the other girl.
Takara had always been beautiful to him - her mixed heritage manifested as that ideal blend of the exotic and the girl next door, enticing in her newness and comfortingly familiar at the same time. As a Night Person, however, she was herself to the nth degree, with any tiny flaws in her appearance corrected, and the more beauteous aspects of her enhanced. Her pale gold skin glowed even in the dim light, like delicately-gilded ivory, Her eyes shone like polished silver coins, and her blue-black hair, so like her mother’s, had a glossy sheen even as it spilled down her back like a silken veil spun from sapphires. She’d gone from merely “exotic” to literally breathtaking, possessing the kind of glamour which was literally enchanting.
It was more than that, though. Takara had always seemed self-assured, and uncommonly graceful in her movements, but now she moved like she was gliding instead of walking, and it was infused with an unconscious sensuality, the kind belonging to a woman who knew that she was beautiful - and more importantly, knew how to use that fact. And it was unconscious - there was a hesitancy that showed in her movements, as well, when she was thinking too hard, trying to adjust to everything that had happened, everything that had changed. It was how he could tell when Takara was really in control, and when he was looking at her lamia half.
As she realised she was being observed, Takara blinked, slowly, her cheeks reddening even as her eye colour lost its near-metallic sheen, fading into a human, but still electric, shade of sky blue.
“I’m sorry,” she apologised to Ilya.
Ilya, for her part, smiled. “Nothing to it. I am a little tired, though. Gabriel, would you mind helping me to a chair?”
“Of course, Princess,” he replied, before realising that he’d picked up some unconscious mannerisms, too. That wasn’t the first time he’d addressed her by that title without thinking.
I wonder what the others have picked up as a result of their mergers? Gabriel mused, even as he moved the albino girl into a chair that faced the entrance, but was shielded by his body, should someone come in with a gun.
“Gabriel?” Takara repeated hesitantly. “Is that your actual name?”
“It’s close,” Ilya said with a teasing grin. “It does start with a G.”
It occurred to the weretiger that they would be quite some time sorting out the chaos of their lives, before they’d even be ready to start properly investigating the attack. On the other hand, now that they were at the enclave, they were liable to stay stationary, since Ilya wasn’t likely to need to leave. That would give them plenty of time to do both, provided they kept themselves aware of potential threats.
Just as well we’re on guard detail - I’d hate to think of the mess we might cause trying to pull ourselves together while we had a more active assignment, like tracking down the last Wild Power. But fortunately, we don’t. Someone else can save the world this time, thank you very much - we’ll have enough trouble just making sure we survive in it.
*****Rin was standing on the windowsill, small hands gripping the wood on either side to help keep her balance. Rain gently splashed upon the thick pane of glass and blurred the image below. The glass began to fog up and a swift hand briskly wiped off the condensation that was building.
Below a black limousine with its windows tinted the color of pitch was in the driveway surrounded by a garden in vast need of care. A pale man in a plain but tailored suit stood beside the limousine’s back door as his suit and hair became increasingly more soaked by each passing moment. The sky was darkening, thunder crashing hard enough to shake the window pane and lightning streaking the sky in shards of greenish white.
Tiny teeth worried a raw bottom lip as the front gate opened, revealing a man in a red suit holding an umbrella and a tiny figure dressed in a black dress with one pink ribbon in silken black hair. Even at the distance between the garden below and the window two stories above two pairs of eyes met, one aquamarine and one amethyst.
Rin’s eyes were stinging and burning. She wanted to scream at the window, shatter it with a word and jump down to the ground. A rapidly cast wind spell would cushion her fall and then she would run to her sister. She’d wrap her arms around Sakura and keep her safe from harm.
They were Sisters after all, two parts of a whole.
Yet her father was doing the unthinkable for a pact for wealth and power, a more secure position he had told her with his own aquamarine eyes flashing. He had explained because he was male and a witch, he needed to do what he could to make sure he wasn’t overridden and the Tohsaka family completely erased. He had also stated that Rin was too young to understand, but she would thank him when she came to be the head of the family.
All Rin cared about right now was that her little sister was being given to a family of vampires and every time she tried to act against it she found herself asleep. Her eyes narrowed as she watched as Sakura was ushered into the plush method of conveyance and cursed her helplessness even more. I should be the one going, Rin thought as the air started to be charged with Power all around her, responding to her volatile emotions.
“I should be the one going,” Rin said aloud as she rested her head against the cool glass.
“Rin, the Night will overtake the world again, and I know you are strong and powerful enough to handle it, but Sakura isn’t. She will need protection and training. The Matou are a powerful family, but they need a witch’s aid as well,” Tokomi had explained.
Rin’s eyes narrowed as she said, “The Night will not overtake the world.”
Weeks after that oath had been made, Rin obsessed with finding her sister and bringing her home. She had heard the talk of the other witches of Circle Midnight that her father parlayed with. They called her a genius and a prodigy and treated her with more than a little disdain as they had affairs with her father one after another. She knew male witches were rare, they were nearly outnumbered by their female counterparts twenty to one. When one male witch was found it wasn’t uncommon for small wars to start up for his affections.
Tokomi used this to his greatest advantage after his wife, a lost witch of all things, had died bringing Sakura into the world. Rin wasn’t naive enough to think her father would love someone else and marry them to give Sakura and Rin a new mother. If he did such a thing he’d lose whatever freedom he had as a witch because they were matriartical.
The worse part was none of the witches from Circle Midnight that Tokomi dealt with faulted him about his decision about Sakura. After all in the West the Harman family had made a similar pact with the Redferns. Not to mention they were excited for the time that the Night would take over again, that they would not have to hide themselves amongst humans but instead rule as their right. So Rin knew there would be no direct help there, but that did not stop her from learning all that she could from them.
She gritted her teeth as she lifted up the amethyst pendulum from the mixture it had been seeping in. The stone reminded Rin of her sister’s eyes, and it had been her sister’s favourite stone. Her small hands had always been in Rin’s box of jewels, sorting around until plump fingers wrapped around purple stones.
“By the power of Earth, may your will guide me.
By the power of Fire, may your passion empower me.
By the power of Air, may your speed hasten my step.
By the power of Water, may your waves keep me on course.
Earth, Fire, Air and Water, guide me to find who I desire.”
The amethyst swung back and forth below a steady hand before shifting to the right and trembling against its silver chain. Rin began to follow the crystal as it guided her out of the house and outside. The witch followed the crystal for hours until she was in Fuyuki proper.
She noticed the crystal swaying towards something and then noticed the silver cord coming from her. Frowning, she followed both the crystal and the intangible thread deeper into town. The den of the market district was all but a hollow ringing in her ears as the cord became more taunt and shorter.
She looked around and called out, “Sakura?”
In her mind she repeated the spell over and over again until golden brown eyes met hers from up high. She froze at the Power she felt, not like magic, but Power. The pale skin and handsome features told Rin enough, that the man with the white hair and broad shoulders was a Night Person as well, but not a witch.
The silver cord that was coming from her was sunk deep within him.
******Rin wrapped her arms firmly around Shirou’s neck, pulling herself up and wrapping her legs around his waist once they had reached their bedroom. There were flashes of the familiarity of the gesture, of him picking her up and swinging her up into his arms as if she was made of down. When she was younger it had made her laugh, but as she got older it made her skin tingle and warmth pool from her core.
Warm fingers entangled in long hair as soft lips caressed against hers eagerly. Lips, teeth and tongues danced in bliss as every inch of flesh felt as if it was charged and tingling. Blood rushed up to heat Rin’s cheeks as she ran one hand through thick, soft white hair. Memories of the Watcher Tohsaka Rin were dormant compared to the ones of Tohsaka Rin the witch, but one thing was for certain.
Rin had her Archer back and she was not going to let him go.
“Rin,” he whispered in his usual low, rusty voice as his eyes searched her face. She honestly missed the steel grey that she was so used to, but the golden-brown was lovely, as was the coppery shade they became when he used his Power or fed. Right now there was a slight metallic tint to them, a sign that the bloodlust was being fought.
She stroked his cheek and said, “You need to feed.” The idea should have repulsed her, not make her tingle in anticipation and catch her breath. She swallowed as her heart was racing yet she felt oddly light and hot. The smell of ash and smoke wafted from his skin, hair and clothing, the same scent that clung to her and was a harsh reminder of just how close they’d been to losing each other again.
Shirou’s eyes flashed intense copper and through his parted mouth she could see his fangs eagerly growing. Heat filled her cheeks as she felt something pressing against her thigh where she had her legs wrapped around his waist. The young witch had never had the bliss of feeling her lover fill and stretch her with each thrust.
Yet there were many innocent, girlish fantasies in the young witch’s mind, as well as memories of first kisses, the first rush of ecstasy as fangs were imbedded into her throat as well as shy touches growing bolder and bolder as she grew older. I’m going to die without knowing what it’s like to make love to him. That had been that Tohsaka Rin’s last thought before Rin had awoken with Shirou’s arms fiercely clutched around her, his body a veritable shield to keep her from harm.
“You need to save your strength,” Shirou replied, but his eyes were still glowing like newly minted pennies.
Rin stared into his eyes before gently running her index finger along his left fang. His body jerked with a low hiss as he thrust against her, his length prodding against her, and his eyes closed before he jerked his face away. She smiled ever so slightly before prodding that same fang against the meat of her thumb.
Don’t Rin, he said, his voice harsh and hoarse in her mind. The desire feeding between the silver cord was palpable. I don’t want to hurt you.
She turned his face so he was looking at her again. She found it easy to reply, The first time always hurts anyway, at least this time I get to be with you.
I don’t want to push you into anything too fast, he replied.
Rin smirked and said, A few hours ago you didn’t have any problems with it.
That was different, you were older and the world was going to end, he retorted as he stared at her.
I’m still the same age mentally, just the body got a little work, she said before lightly pressing a kiss on his lips. The easiest thing to do would be to tilt her head back and pull down her shirt to give him access to her neck. Instead she slid her legs from around his waist to back to stand on the floor before letting him go. Her cheeks felt as if someone had poured napalm on them and lit a match, but she swallowed, licked her lips and then lifted up her skirt. Copper eyes narrowed at the sight of sleek, supple creamy white thigh edged with black nylon and more importantly the pulsing artery within said thigh.
“Rin,” he said with a growl both aloud and in her head, making her shiver and her core weep for him. His glowing eyes met hers before he sank down on his knees. Her breath caught at the feel of warm lips against her thigh before there was a slight prick of pain. Thousands of white lights exploded behind Rin’s eyelids as she cried out, her hands entangling into Shirou’s white hair as the silver cord fully opened.
Bliss bubbled up and spread through her veins like lightning, firing every synapse at once. Each gentle pull of the heated mouth against the quivering thigh only brought more and more with each passing moment. Rin arched against the wall, throwing her head back as tension rose within her, becoming harder and harder to stand. She was trembling, her body oddly heavy yet light at the same time as if she would shatter at any moment.
Rin looked down right as burning copper eyes looked up at her. Now, Rin, Shirou said as he was entangled in her taking her life and return filling her with heady pleasure. His words shoved her off the edge and she screamed, her fingers digging into his scalp as she arched towards him.
She shattered, her vision flashing in prismatic color as her body shook and clinched at nothing. Her heart began to slow as she began to feel lightheaded, her body trembling in tiny aftershocks. I can smell you, Shirou said within her mind, filling her with warmth and need as his tongue laved the bite on her thigh closed.
Their limbs needed to be entangled with the others, him imbedded so deeply that he wouldn’t know where he ended and where she began. Pale hands wanted to cup soft, small breasts before thrumming nimble thumbs over nipples until they were hard points. She could sense that he wanted to move his face farther up her thigh and lave her clean until she was screaming again. His own need was a tangible, heady thing that was pulsing in her blood and overwhelming her with the urge to fill her over and over again.
Do it, she urged through their connection, Quit trying to hold yourself back, damn it!
There was a mental shake of his head before Shirou replied, I’d don’t want to hurt you.
He was looking up at her from his knees and Rin wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the crown of his head and said, You can’t hurt me.
I’ve hurt you before, he replied as he looked up at her.
“I have a little sister,” Rin said as she looked away from the vampire’s golden brown eyes, almost like the fine sherry or brandy her father sometimes indulged in.
Shirou tilted his head and asked, “You were looking for her, weren’t you?”
Rin nodded and said, “I wasn’t looking for you, I was looking for Sakura.”
“. . . I can help you find her,” he said before getting on one knee before her.
Rin shook her head and felt her eyes burning despite her body still coasting on the high her lover had just given her. Her voice was shocking aloud as she said, “No, don’t do this.”
Shirou rose up and his arms wrapped around her again. It’s not that I don’t want to Rin.
I know you want to. I can feel it. I can see the things you want to do to me and with me and I want you to do them! I’ve wanted them for the past two years, when I was old enough to understand them, Rin retorted as she glared up at him.
All the heat fell from her face as her words came rushing back to her. Her stomach heaved, her head spun, and her limbs felt like lead. She took a deep breath before looking up at him. “These memories are real, Rin,” Shirou said with a sigh, “All of it. Sakura, your father, me, everything.”
Rin bit her lip and took the haven he was offering in his arms.
“I didn’t want to die a virgin,” she said with a shake of her head and a snort.
Shirou stroked her hair and said, “And you won’t. I’ve been given another chance to make things right by you Rin.”
She raised her eyebrows before rubbing against him, feeling the heated length against her stomach. He arched his head back with a small growl before looking at her again. Rin said, “Then take me to bed.”
“Not like this. I don’t want this to be something we regret,” Shirou said as he looked into her eyes.
Rin sighed, forced a smile and said, “Great, thanks for going all noble on me.”
“However if you keep offering your thigh like that and the next time I won’t be able to resist,” Shirou said with a shake of his head.
Still looks good.
And apparently, in this world Daddy Tohsaka was even MORE of a dick.
Kieran? You know how part of the original idea for Trinity involved Vamp!Hermione? Change that to Vamp!Takara ASAP.
Update is good. And Shirou needs a flogging for being a gentleman. PORN IS NOT PORN = TEASE.
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First time I'm replying for this story, but nice. You guys always make good stuff, so together you should dominate. the loli Sakura was HNNNNNGH (she is a vampire right? it seemed kinda unclear). Plus yes, Shirou needs less self-restraint, but then he wouldn't be Shirou if he didn't.
"Fate/stay night: not really an eroge, and not really a cooking sim, but actually an RPG wherein everyone’s primary stat is “self-loathing” and the goal is to level it up beyond all the other characters."
Yeah, Sakura's a made vampire. You can also assume that she's not actually as childish as she's acting, but it's easier for her to cope if she just plays the role.
Which will be touched up on later obviously.
Forgot to address this earlier, but on the subject - would you really want her own mother to kill her?
Oops. I kinda forgot about Ciel.
Hang on, so let me get this straight. Tokiomi handed Sakura over to the Matou family (who are, naturally, vampires) as a bargaining chip as a child, basically knowing she would be turned into a vampire and, thus, stuck permanently in that state?
What an asshole....
To be fair, being a vampire in this verse seems to make you badass and crazy hot.
Yes, normally. But, if you were turned into one as a four-year-old child, on the other hand....
You turn into a badass and crazy hot kindergartener? I'm joking, just to be clear.
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