Shinji's Grandmom Has Got it Going On (Fate/stay night)

[Lady Vanatos]

This is a crossposting of a fic both me and another writer, Zel, that has been posted on various other sites like SB, QQ and FF.net (And Ao3 soon probably)

Again, this story was in conjunction with me and Zel over on SB. (Even if he wrote like 90% of it) and was spawned from the bowels of Discord as a shitpost idea that frankly got too out of hand. So get ready for multi-post. Enjoy the curse.
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Chapter 1

It’s impossible to know when life will impart a great lesson upon you.

For Emiya Shirou, the second most important lesson his father would ever give him took place tonight.

They sat on a wooden walkway, facing their house’s courtyard and a starry night illuminated the grounds from above. The streets were soundless and empty, and Shirou pretended it was just the two of them in the world.

“And that is why, if you want to impress a girl, you only mention your closet of trench coats after the third date,“ Kiritsugu said. His tired eyes shone with wisdom.

“I get it, old man. I won’t let you down,” Shirou said, bobbing his head.

Though he might ask Raiga for more useful dating advice. Shirou had a feeling Kiritsugu’s experiences were a bit unique. He wasn’t the most adult...adult.

“I know you won’t.”

A thought sprung to life in Shirou’s mind. “Were you popular with girls, old man?”

Kiritsugu’s face contorted. "...not exactly. My attitude put them off for the longest time. My teacher used to say that, if I wanted a wife, I would have to groom a younger gir-." Kiritsugu halted on his tracks. "Oh no."

"Are you okay?" Shirou asked with wide eyes.

He shook his head. "Nothing much, Shirou. Sometimes introspection is painful, is all."

"Okay," Shirou said, filing the word for later. If this introspection could hurt even his dad, it was something to be avoided at all costs.

Kiritsugu sighed. Not one of his weary sighs, or pained sighs. It was a happy one, so Shirou perked up too. “Look at us, talking about girls already? You are all grown-up, now.” He gazed up at the moon, a strange smile in his lips. “Where did the time go?”

“You’re sounding old, Kiritsugu,” Shirou declared.

He laughed. “Maybe I am old. I wish I had more hard-earned wisdom to share with you, but you were always more mature than me. The worst I worried about you was that you’d break in the neighbor’s house to cook him a balanced breakfast.”

Shirou pursed his lips. “He really needs to cut down on the fats.”

Kiritsugu chuckled, and they went silent, a comfortable one that hung over them like a warm blanket. Neither of them was talkative by nature, and there was no Fuji-nee to drag them into conversation.

“I suppose I have one worthwhile lesson about women left,” Kiritsugu said.

“What is it?”

Kiritsugu locked eyes with him, and Shirou gave him all his attention.

“I did have a wife, once,” Kiritsugu said. “I loved her very much, but that isn’t always enough. I ended up not treating her as well as she deserved, and I want you to be better than me. Once you find the right woman, be loyal to her. Treat her right.”

Shirou mulled his father’s words. Being better in any way than his father sounded impossible, but how could he refuse? “I promise, old man. But how will I know I found the right woman?”

Kiritsugu shrugged, giving him a tiny smile. “You’ll just know.”

Not too long after, they went to bed, Kiritsugu in his characteristic limp and Shirou full of thoughts that made his night a sleepless one. Days later, Shirou promised Kiritsugu to inherit his dream on a very similar night, and despite how important that had been, he never forgot Kiritsugu’s words about girls.

Time passed. Many things left him, including his father, and many things stayed the same. But Shirou did, indeed, meet a woman. He was smitten instantly, but it wouldn’t have been proper to show it. He decided to work hard to become someone worthy of her, despite all the things that would stand against a relationship between them.

So he waited and hoped, until the promised day came. Time passed on and on. Many things changed again, but one stayed the same.

Shinji’s grandmom had it going on.

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Shirou was now an adult, and the government had a little less to say about what he was or wasn’t allowed to do. Though he was uncertain what being a hero of justice meant, following the law seemed as good a place as any to start off.

For years, he locked thoughts about a certain woman in a dark corner of his mind. Not out of fear from society’s judgment or worse, his sister’s, but from sheer pragmatism. His chances of hooking up with the woman of his dreams would be higher if he had a little life experience and wasn’t liable to get her in jail for being in a relationship with him.

“Kiritsugu would be proud,” he thought. His old man had touted the importance of planning ahead, and treating laws as more of suggestions than hard-rules.

Shirou tugged at his collar. Sweat drenched his clothes in dark pools, and his tux suffocated his skin. It was as if his body had become cramped and three sizes too small for him.

Despite all his planning, nervousness gnawed at Shirou, chipping his defences with negative thoughts. His hand clenched around the bouquet of flowers, and the sun singled him out mercilessly with its heat.

“Am I coming out too strong? Does she like flowers? What if she doesn’t like younger men? What if she likes younger men but not me?”

His heart did its best to jump from his throat, and people were looking at him funny in the street.

With discipline that came from many years of training, he controlled his breathing and banished the malicious thoughts. This was no time to be nervous. He had prepared for this year after year, and his objective was right ahead, at the end of a road of pristine tiles.

The Matou mansion lay in front of him in its glory. It was a tasteful residence, surrounded by greenery, and painted in hues of blue and purple. The walls were adorned with many windows, and inside, Shirou knew they offered the mansion bountiful natural sunlight.

Shirou passed through the gate, having informed his friend and possibly future...grandson? He would have to look up the nomenclature.

...dammit, his plan already had a hole in it.

He took a deep breath and walked with purpose. Soon, after what seemed like an eternity, Shirou stood at the mansion’s door. Shirou rang the doorbell with a shaky hand.

From inside, his friend yelled something indistinct, and his loud footsteps resounded.

Matou Shinji opened the door.

“Took you long enough Emiya. What, were you busy doing somebody else’s work ag-” Shinji froze. He stared at Shirou, a smarmy grin still plastered on his face. “...the fuck?”

“I’m coming in,” Shirou said, and Shinji made no resistance, weak with the shock.

“Always capitalize when your opponent is distracted,” Kiritsugu once said, after hitting Shirou on the head with a wooden sword.

“Thanks old man,” Shirou thought.

Shirou took off his shoes and entered the house’s living room, while Shinji was still weak. But the debuff wasn’t made to last.

“...Emiya, you dumb oaf, I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why you came to my house in a tux and with…” Shinji’s eyes crinkled. “Flowers.”

Shirou fiddled with the bouquet. “Isn’t it obvious? I came for your grandmom. I told you many times.”

“There’s nothing obvious about it, moron! I thought you were joking.”

Shirou tilted his head. "Why would I joke about dating your grandmom?"

"Because the alternative was that you wanted to date a woman who was alive in the Middle Ages!”

Shirou smiled. "She must have a lot of stories to tell."

He was teasing Shinji, of course. Shirou was aware of the age-gap, but to be fair, Shinji started it with the ‘middle ages’ comment. She was old, but saying she lived in the Middle Ages was uncalled for.

Shirou had a lot of respect for the elderly, even if his thoughts concerning Shinji’s grandmom weren’t exactly...respectful.

He was a teenager. Sue him.

Shinji trembled, his entire body vibrating with rage. Shirou had seen this enough times to know his friend was about to go on a social-life destroying rant.

Shinji opened his mouth.

“My my, and what is this racket in my home? Are you two boys up to no good?”

A musically wheezy laughter rang from the corridor. Shirou’s heart thundered. She appeared, emerging from the basement, and it was like angels were singing and the world stopped for the two of them.

Shirou wasn’t one to stop and think about his feelings. Introspection was a dangerous enemy, and he prefered to go with his heart. And his heart, for reasons unknown to him, has belonged to her for a long time.

Shinji’s grandmom appraised them with wizened, beautiful yellow eyes that only had hints of cataract. She had a grey, thin skin that glistened with experience and sweat over the walk upstairs. Her long, white hair cascaded down her back, gorgeous in its fragility.

“It’s a wig,” Shinji muttered, looking at him as if he was lower than a cockroach.

She ignored Shinji, having eyes only for Shirou. He stood straight as a soldier, aware that this moment would define their relationship forever. The moment she would see him as a man.

“If it isn’t young Shirou,” she said, her voice cracking with the strain of speaking. It reminded Shirou of how they should spend their limited time on this Earth well. “Well, don’t you look gorgeous in your new little clothes? I could just eat you up.”

Shirou blushed, looking down at the floor. “...I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, ma’am.”

Shinji gagged.

She clicked her tongue. “It does beg the question. Why are you dressed in such a way? Have you come to propose to my grandson? I have to say that I always suspected...”

“Why is this happening? I didn’t do anything to deserve this,” Shinji said.

Shirou steeled himself. “No ma’am.” He pursed his lips. “No, Ms. Matou. You made me come. You’re the reason I’ve been coming ever since I became a teenager. All the times.”

“Please make it stop,” Shinji said.

Shinji’s grandmom hummed. “I see. So Emiya Kiritsugu’s son has come to court me. Life is full of surprises, indeed. Are those flowers your offering?”

“Yes.” Shirou jutted them out and she shimmied towards them. His body raged hot as she came closer and closer. Her smell wasn’t anything he could describe properly, but it always reminded him of worms and buzzing insects.

He associated those with love.

She plucked them from his hand, crooked fingers lingering on his hand for a slight second. Shirou’s breath was taken away in that precious moment.

“...insufficient,” she said. “Honestly, what did you expect? For me to take these and say: fetch me some lubrification young man, and I’ll show you how to get to the Root’?”

Shinji sobbed.

Shirou smiled. It was a bittersweet one, of hopes crushed but a smidgeon of them remaining. “No, Ms. Matou. I’m not a smart guy like Shinji. I don’t get things right the first time I try them. Those were just to show I’m interested. And I don’t plan to stop.”

The corners of her cracked lips jutted up. “Do you truly think you’re ready for me, Emiya Shirou?”

“I’ll do my best, ma’am. I’ll see you later.” Shirou said, with more confidence than he felt. He looked at his petrified friend. “Bye Shinji. Sorry, but I’m not in the mood for video games now.”

Shinji didn’t respond, and Shirou left.

It had been the expected result, but the heart was a fickle thing, and it often had unrealistic desires buried deep down. But not all was lost, and her affections were a prize worth nothing less than his entire effort.

He would be back.

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Oh yeah, should prolly add this from the SB post but as Zel said: "Anyway, no, Sakura isn't in the worm basement. She remained a Tohsaka. The Matou house has just Shinji and his grandmom."

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Chapter 2

Shirou wiggled in his seat, eyes locked on her. Miss Matou chewed her food - lovingly made by him - with deliberate thoughtfulness, her jaw swaying back and fro, and occasionally popping. The sound was not unlike gunfire, which...he probably should worry about.

If he wasn’t this entranced by her lips and the nearly inaudible moans of pleasure. She sat right across him at the tasteful victorian dining table, and there had been a lot of conversation and eye-contact. Shirou’s heart sped up at the mere thought.

At the far-end seat of the table, a pained grunt resounded.

Oh yes, Shinji was there too, and glaring at him, stabbing his salmon like he was seeing something else in the dead fish. Shirou had completely forgotten about him.

“I’m not being a good friend. I’ve been so focused on Miss Matou that I haven’t asked why he sounds like he’s constantly in pain these days.”

“You okay?” Shirou mouthed to him.

Shinji’s response wasn’t something that should be said out loud in polite conversation, or even in a soundless one.

Miss Matou chuckled, and if her laugh could be mistaken for a cough, that only meant Shirou could nurse her back to health. The thought of Miss Matou lying on her bed, drenched in sweat and in need of his non-stop care, made his heart feel like it could break the bones in his chest.

“Delightful, Shirou Emiya,” she said. “I had no idea you were this good a cook. In my day, that was a rare skill in men. It’s good that young people have been parting with that old-fashioned thinking.” She glanced at Shinji. “Or some of you have.”

Shinji stabbed his food harder.

Shirou, however, was busy flushing from the compliment. “It’s not like I enjoy cooking or anything, but if it’s for someone special…”

She cackled. “Hah! Your youthful flirting makes me feel four-hundred and eighty years younger. It’s not a bad feeling, I will admit. Back in my day, I was quite a thirst trap.”

“You still are,” Shirou rushed to say. Though he was unsure what that meant, it was obviously a compliment.

Miss Matou hummed, and her striking, beady eyes glinted with life. “Yes, so it seems. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

She rose from her chair, picked up her cane and walked away from the table, a tiny step at a time. The suspense of nothing more than a couple of minutes away from her seemed like an eternity. Behind her trailed a group of insects of all kinds, and they began adjourning close to Shinji, who didn’t notice it.

Shinji waited until she was out of sight, and jabbed a thumb at Shirou. "You're distorted!"

Shirou blinked. "Is that, uh, a mental illness of some sort?"

Shinji fumed. "Everything you say makes me want to throttle you."

"Liking your grandmother doesn't make me mentally ill, Shinji," Shirou said, holding back his grin.

Obviously, Shirou knew that Shinji was mad at him. It was just some teasing in good fun. Maybe he shouldn't be pulling his leg so often. He was already pushing it with courting the guy's grandmother.

...but making Shinji's life difficult gave him an odd feeling of karmic justice, and Shirou very much wanted to be an avatar of justice.

Shinji gave him a smile full of teeth. “You won’t look so happy when she turns you into worm milk,” he said.

Shirou's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t know worms produced milk.”

His friend broke eye contact, and shuddered. “Hers do.”

“It’s why you’ve grown into a handsome, strong boy, Shinji,” chittered the mass of insects behind his chair.

Shinji froze. His teeth clacked together again and again, like a scared animal.

“Have you forgotten? Grandma is always listening. Now now, being absent doesn’t mean I can’t...chip in. Being old and lonely means I don’t have quality conversations very often.”

“I can come in anytime you want to talk, Miss Matou. And by telephone, too,” Shirou said, in a not desperate tone. At all.

She laughed. “Thank you kindly. My Shinji could learn a lot from you about how to treat women. Though be more assertive, though. I like men of action.”

Shirou resolved to find the nearest bear around and take it on in hand-to-hand combat.

“That glint on your eyes. I didn't tell you to clobber my head and take me to your cave, boy. All I said is that I like men of action."

Shinji made another of his distressed animal noises. “Why do I have to be here?” he asked.

The insects buzzed, agitated. “I won’t let you spend your allowance outside with perfectly good food here. And you cannot boil an egg to save your own life, so you could stand to learn with young Shirou here, too.”

“Yeah, Shinji isn’t very good at looking after himself,” Shirou said.

“I swear, he is a bright boy, but utterly incapable of anything resembling responsibility.”

“It’ll come with experience. Once he has a house for himself, you’ll see.”

"A grandmother worries, Shirou. If I set this child free in this dangerous world, what sorts of danger could he get himself into because he doesn't know better?"

"Don't worry. I'll always be-"

Shinji slammed his hands on the table. “You’re not my granddad!”

He ran off, stomping on the floor, and Shirou watched him go, speechless. The insects dispersed, leaving Shirou alone with his thoughts, which Kiritsugu had taught him wasn't a great idea. "My worst decisions happened exactly when I thought about them for too long. Coincidence, Shirou? I think not."

A few minutes later, Miss Matou came back, but Shirou’s heart suddenly wasn’t in it. Was he a homewrecker now?

Until she came close, tantalizingly close, and rose his head with a finger so delicate it seemed like it’d disintegrate in the spot. Literally. “Chin up, Shirou Emiya. Unfortunately, my useless grandson and I are a package, so if you want me, you will have to deal with him too.”

It was hard to listen to her hypnotic raspy voice with her face so close. He could pick out every detail. Her eyes, her elegant beak nose, her sandpaper skin that he dearly wanted to touch…

She huffed. "He's like this because he was breastfed until he was five years old. The boy was spoiled rotten, but family is family after all."

Shirou frowned. "I didn't know his mother was around for so long."

"She wasn't."

...Kiritsugu had another bit of advice for situations like these. "Never get close to your in-laws, Shirou. You'll start knowing things you shouldn't, and then your wife will have to hide all your guns to prevent you from-"

Shirou shook his head. He didn't have a gun, so the advice was moot. “I’m ready for it. If my relationship with Shinji changes because of it, we’ll deal with that later.”

And if Shirou had to play videogames with Shinji for hours on end and let him win all of them, so be it.

“Down, boy. My memory isn’t the same these days, but I don’t remember committing to anything. I do, however, have a gift for you.”

Shirou held his breath. “What is it?”

“A painting of myself, by the world’s foremost artist at the time. Since you seem so enamored with this old carcass of mine, I want to watch your expression when you see what you missed four hundred years ago.”

Young Zouken

A lesser man, faced with the chance to seize the Holy Grail, might have hesitated. But not Shirou, never Shirou. “When can I come to get it?”

“Come fetch it tomorrow, at night, but avoid my insects. At night, they, and by extension I, get...voracious,” she whispered.

Shirou swallowed. “I’ll be here.”

“And I’ll be waiting.”

“But why give me something so precious so soon?”

She laughed and turned to leave. “That’s for me to know. But soon you realize that our paths crossed before you even knew it.”

Miss Matou walked away, leaving Shirou with those ominous words. Yet, no words could abate his enthusiasm. He had a painting to get, and one with a far more precious picture than the stash Shinji had given to him once.

...he had gotten porn from his future girlfriend’s grandson.

Is that why Shinji was so awkward about their relationship? “Huh.”

Now everything about this situation made sense. Finally.

Best Boi

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Chapter 3

A long time ago, Shirou’s sister warned him about those 'friends' who wanted to lead him astray with drugs and carnal pleasures, but not once had he been warned of the friend who would take him to the church.

Shirou glanced at Shinji, who led the way, stomping on the street’s pavement. The afternoon sun bathed the stark, pristine buildings with its warm light. “Look Shinji, I know you’re upset about your grandmom and me-”

“There’s no ‘my grandmom and you’,” Shinji said, hands curled into fists. He didn’t look back.

“I know you’re upset in general,” Shirou said, tiptoeing around the subject. “But I’m not a religious kind of guy. And there’s nothing evil in me loving your-”

“You could have any girl,” Shinji said. His inflection rose, and Shirou braced himself for the rant of a lifetime. “You could have the hot, blonde transfer student. You could have any of the Tohsaka sisters, and of all women on the planet, you go for my fucking grandmother!”

“I think you’re imagining things, Shinji. None of those girls are interested in me.”

“They wrestled for your attention. Literally. Twice. Sakura Tohsaka faked being incompetent with a bow for six months, and an injury for two, just so you hold her from behind. Rin Tohsaka calls you over every time something breaks in her house. The hot blonde transfer student keeps buying you expensive shit. How dense are you?”

The answer was, not at all. He feigned ignorance to avoid even bigger troubles. Of course Shirou had noticed all the things those girls had done to get closer to him. They were all beautiful and smart and any guy would be over the moon to date them. And in Rin’s case, she actually was pretty bad with electronics, so he didn’t mind giving her a hand.

Except all the attention, and gifts, and wrestling, and faking injuries, and throwing themselves at him, were very embarrassing. And a little creepy.

He preferred mature women.

Shinji threw his hands up. “You could have a fucking harem!. Why can’t you be normal and want a harem?”

“But I don’t want Sakura Tohsaka, or Rin Tohsaka, or the hot blon- Luvia. I want your grandmom.”

His friend - a moniker which was becoming increasingly debatable - stared daggers at him, both of his eyes twitching eerily. “You are going to the church. You owe me.”

Shirou sighed. “Fine.”

At least Shinji didn’t actually say ‘no’ to his relationship with Ms. Matou. Shirou would take it as a win.

They soldiered on the walk up a hill, and Fuyuki’s church laid at the end of their path, perched on the hilltop. They walked across the threshold and the cobblestone floor, passing by neatly trimmed bushes. Shinji walked with purpose ahead, and knocked on the gates.

“Hey priest,” Shinji yelled. “I’m here for our appointment!”

Shirou stood there, stunned, as a tall man garbed in priest clothing swung the gates open and greeted them with a welcoming smile. “Hello, Shinji Matou. You’re early. Good.” He motioned them inside the chapel.

“A priest? You don't want me to pursue your grandmom, so you brought me to a priest?" Shirou shook his head. "I know you don't want us together, but saying I'm evil is a bit much, Shinji."

“He’s not a common priest. He’s an exorcist.”

Shirou turned to leave.

“Wait!” Shinji cried. “At least hear him out. Tell him, priest!”

“The correct term is Executor, Shinji Matou, and I see that’s the friend you mentioned. The one...infatuated with Zouken Matou.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Shirou said, finally entering the chapel along with Shinji. “And why should I listen to you? I don’t even know who you are..”

“My name is Kirei Kotomine, and you should listen to me because I have exorcised demons that are less virulent, malicious and repulsive than Zouken Matou."

Shirou’s eyes narrowed. “That’s my future wife you’re talking about.”

“Hold on, since when has ‘wife’ been on the table?”.

Shirou and Kotomine ignored Shinji’s outburst, locked into a staring contest. Kotomine’s oppressive presence clashed with Shirou’s power of love.

Kotomine opened his arms wide. “Zouken has been a blight on this city, and humanity, for hundreds of years. She’s a parasite who has consumed the lives of others to fuel her own through profane magecraft, and taking twisted pleasure in it. Is that someone worthy of your affections, young man?”

“Shinji,” Shirou said, voice gravelly. “Is this true?”

“Yes. Yes! I told you, she’s evil!” Shinji crowed.

The priest watched them with a smile.

Shirou's thoughts raced. Sweat ran on his forehead, and his lips were dry. “So, that means…”

“That you should never come to my house again, yes!”

“That means,” Shirou said under his breath, desperately clinging to his conclusion. “That I have to save her... from herself?”

Kotomine blinked. Shinj was frozen in place, mouth still opened wide.

Shirou looked up, as if asking for wisdom from the heavens. “Is that what it means to be a hero of justice, old man? To save someone whom no one else will? Please, give me a sign if that’s what you meant.”

“A hero of justice, you said?” Kotomine asked. “What a strange coincidence. I once met a man with the same goal.”

Shirou felt the hand of destiny over them. “Really? What was his name?”

The priest chuckled, as if enjoying a private joke. “Kiritsugu Emiya.”

Shirou shook a victorious fist. “I hear you loud and clear, Kiritsugu. I won’t let you down.”

Kotomine closed the gap between them, and put a comforting hand on Shirou’s shoulder. “It’s a gift of yours that you can love so purely. I wish I could be the same. However, I can’t, in good conscience, approve of your affections.”

He removed the offending hand. “I don’t care about your approval, Kotomine.”

“Then at least hear what I have to say. It’s by the Lord's grace that we met before you committed such a mistake. Once, you helped me find my way, and now, I can do the same to you.”

“Helped you? I never even met you.”

“But I did see you, once. A simple day, like any other, where I went to your school for some business of my own, and ended up watching you for hours on end.”

...Shirou had been delighted that he had become a legal adult, but suddenly he wanted an actual adult nearby.

Kotomine showed him a pure smile. “Watching your futile attempts to jump over a bar was the trigger to my own recovery. You see, a long time ago, I allowed my soul to be tainted in the dark hues of my impulses, and became drunk with them.”

Shirou gave Shinji a dark, side-eyed look, noting he looked unnerved. Friends had to forgive each other, but taking him to an exorcist with a drinking problem, who also hung out in middle schools - that was pushing it.

Kotomine’s eyes were alight with joy. “You weren’t dissuaded by failure. You weren’t stopped by your injuries. With every attempt, you grew more tired, but you were relentless.” He breathed, and an almost maniac glint shone in his features. “It was the most inspiring event I had ever seen, for if you didn’t break under the physical strain and the weight of failure, how could I, after witnessing something that pure? In that microcosm of life, you raged a crusade against resignation and the death of meaning!”

Shirou’s frowned. “I think I remember what you’re saying, but…” He scratched his head. “I think you got something wrong.”

“Truly? What is it?”

“It wasn’t that important. I was just kind of mad that day and trying to jump over that stupid bar.”

Silence reigned in the house of God.

“You mean to say,” Kotomine started, his voice with the hint of a shake, “that the event that triggered my recovery, the bedrock of my transformation, was entirely of my own imagination?”

Suddenly, Shirou felt like he was walking on razor-edged eggshells. “Uh...yeah. Sorry.” He thought of something to reassure the priest. He didn’t want to undo the man’s progress with his drinking problem. “But your recovery was all you - and God, yeah. God probably helped.”

“I’m really not good with this religion business.”

Kotomine’s eyes, which seconds ago were shining with life, were now light bulbs in the winter. The cold, harsh winds of Shirou’s words bit at their structures, the room they illuminated getting dimmer and dimmer, until they fizzled out and only darkness remained. Hollowed shells glanced at Shirou with detached amusement.

“Well,” he said, with a smile that probably killed newborn puppies somewhere in the world. “This is an unfortunate turn of events.”

Shirou took a step back. Shinji quietly shuddered in a corner.

Kotomine continued. “But I suppose I should’ve expected it. Very well, Shirou Emiya-”

And even warier, Shirou noticed he had never given the priest his name.

“While I do not approve of your relationship with that worm, I cannot fault you for wanting to help someone. We of the church also endeavored in saving people from themselves.”

Shirou struggled to find words. “Um, how did that work for you?

Deus vult
The priest smiled. "Opinions vary."

Shirou was struck with an odd feeling that he was missing subtext.

With a hand, Kotomine pointed to the church’s gates. “You may go, if not with my blessing, then with my quiet...approval.”

Shirou and Shinji left faster than was appropriate, but Shirou felt it was warranted this time.

Once outside, Shirou patted Shinji on the back, and his friend flinched. Poor guy must have been scared by that fake priest. Shirou related to his pain. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah, I didn’t know that priest was so screwed in the head.”

“Yeah.” Shirou gave the church a once-over. “But the place is beautiful. A wedding here would look pretty nice.”

“...you ever played a visual novel, Emiya?”

Shinji’s voice was undercut with a low, ominous tone.

Shirou pursed his lips in thought. “No, why?”

“I just feel like a main character of one, you know. Sometimes, I feel like I get these choices about what I have to do, and each one of them will take me to a different path. But this time, this time it’s different. The three choices are all the same.”

Shirou eyed Shinji like a dangerous animal. “What is that choice?”

“Punch Emiya.”

And Shirou saw stars, and stumbled.

“Take that, you dipshit,” Shinji cried his victory, leaving while shaking away the pain in his fist.

Shirou massaged his jaw, licking his teeth to make sure they were all in place and grimacing at the taste of copper. “I’m still coming tonight to get her painting, alright? Don’t lock the door,” he shouted.

“Fuck you!”

Man, when he finally started dating Ms. Matou, they’d need to work on his attitude.

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Chapter 4 (Good End)

Night fell upon Fuyuki, but it was no time of resting for Shirou. He trudged forward, ever-forward on the empty streets.

He was a man on a mission. The woman he loved waited for him, and he wasn’t going to disappoint.

For once, there were no crazy girls making advances at him, no Shinji to whine about his own advances at Ms. Matou, and no crazy, alcoholic priest stalking him.

At this point of no return, his mind couldn’t help but rewind to the past. Kiritsugu’s advice and pleading to treat his future wife right; falling in love with Ms. Matou every time he went to Shinji’s; his training arc with Lovemaster Mari, which he would never, ever tell anyone about.

"So, let me get this straight," Shirou had said back then, looking around the lush, green lands surrounding them. "You aren’t just a girl I met on the internet. You're an ancient wizard who dragged me into the magical land of faeries to teach me how to get a date with Ms. Matou?"

Mari smiled. "Exactly. I enjoy love-stories, you see, especially the unlikely ones. Plus there was a bet between us Clairvoyants, but the details aren’t important."

"...my old man was wrong. Magic is great. Except for the pretending to be a girl on the internet part. That wasn’t nice; I really opened myself up to you."

“Ah, sorry about that, Shirou-kun. Sometimes I can’t help myself. I’ve been told most of my moves are dick moves, sometimes literally.”

Shirou shuddered, and shook his head. It helped that the whole situation was so surreal he could almost convince himself it never happened. If you were too open with stories about being hijacked to Avalon to learn the mysterious arts of courtship, maintaining a relationship and of Mari’s unlimited bedroom ways - UBW, as he called it - people tended to look at you strangely.

He slapped his own cheeks. “Enough of the past,” he said. In front of him, the Matou mansion looked taller and more menacing than ever before. “I have to focus on the future.”

Shirou opened the gate, and breathed a sigh of relief. Shinji hadn’t locked him out. Soon, he was inside the mansion’s, admiring the fancy western design for one second.

At the corner of his eye, he watched as worms pooled into a single mass. Ms. Matou's voice resounded from them, spectral and fleeting, like a dream. “At the basement.”

His heart raced. Alone, in a dark room with Ms. Matou? Already?

Despite his anxiety, his legs moved. Even if his thoughts fretted, his body knew instinctively what to do. He opened the basement’s door and walked down the dark corridor, one step at a time.

In the center of the spacious sewer-like room, as wide as the mansion itself, she stood. Her gaze was locked at a rectangular frame attached to the wall.

Shirou squinted to see what it was, and his breath was taken away. That person was-

“Beautiful, isn’t she? And painted by the world’s foremost artist at the time.” Ms. Matou said. “Are you happy, Shirou Emiya? I gave you passage into my workshop. There is no greater act of trust for a magus. No act more...intimate."

Shirou forced himself to say something. “I’m honored.”

She turned to face him, and like every time before, Shirou fell in love with her features. “Then, it is time for us to end this charade.”

It was like a knife had stabbed his chest. “Charade?”

“Yes, a charade,” she spat. She stormed over to him, one tiny step at a time, and shoved him a step back with her cane. “What is your angle, boy? What do you stand to gain from all of this?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Look at me!” she said. “I love to pretend, but I’m not a thirst trap anymore. She was!” She pointed at her painting. “It has been centuries since I looked beautiful. Since I had my gorgeous blue locks and everything was still pointing up!”

“I like your hair now,” Shirou protested.

She tore her hair from her head. “It’s a wig, you buffoon!”

Oh yeah, Shinji had told him. Dammit.

Ms. Matou snarled. “I wear that thing so I can have a smidgeon of pride in my appearance, but it’s of no use. Do you know anything about hating who you became, boy? To look at a mirror and see nothing but what you lost and the days past, and to hate and not recognize the person you see?”

Shirou’s fists tightened.

“I do! It’s been my life for longer than you have been alive, and you dare start this charade, toy with the rest of pride I have left? I won’t let you!”

“Do you really think all that?” Shirou said, voice perfectly level.

“Yes.” She deflated, and her lips trembled. She had never looked this fragile. “And it all started because of a stupid, stupid dream. I chased my dream of being a heroine of justice, and this is the conclusion I reached…”

There were moments in life when everything clicked. Synapses fired, the dots connected and the stars aligned. Pure euphoria filled Shirou’s veins.

“Ah,” Shirou said. The purest, happiest smile he had ever showed anyone blossomed in his face. “So that’s why.”

“...what?” she asked, features tight.

“Shinji asked me once why I was attracted to you, and I didn’t know. It’s because of many things, I guess, but I think I know what started it now.” Shirou closed his eyes. “I went to school today, and dodged the crazy girls there. I talked with a creepy priest. Shinji punched me, which hurt worse than I expected.”

She watched him warily. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m just remembering.”

“Remembering what, exactly?”

Shirou grabbed her dainty hands with his. “Remembering everything about the day I truly fell in love with you.”

Her eyes went wide, and tears started flowing. “You can't have. I’m old…”

“That just means you have been young for longer than me.”

“I’m not beautiful anymore,” she thundered.

“You always have been for me, wig or not.”

"My body is made out of worms and insects!"

Shirou blinked. "Mine of swords. Will that be a problem?" Shirou’s eyebrows creased. “I mean, I never got anyone stabbed when I hugged them, so I think we’re good.”

“But, but…”

He took her hands to his lips and kissed each of them, rejoicing at the sensation of her skin on his lips. ”You can say no if you want, but I won’t give up...Zou-chan.”

Her mouth went wide. “Zou-chan?”

Shirou nodded. "And if you want, you can be my Zou-chan for a long time. You just have to say the word.”

For what seemed like eternity, he waited. Then, she threw away her cane, and there was nothing more standing between them. She whispered her answer.

“Yes.”


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Sometimes stories start at very similar places, but their conclusions diverge in wild ways. This was one such story, in a different place and an entirely different universe. One could call it...the Good End.

Shirou paced in the Matou living room. "This is taking too long. Did something happen with her?"

The blond child sitting in the living room watched him with amusement. "Are you trying to dig a hole into her mansion, onii-san?"

"Sorry if I don't exactly trust you with Zou-chan's health, Gilgamesh, but you aren't the most trustworthy guy around. I can't even trust you to look the same from day-to-day."

Gil chuckled. "I suppose I deserve that. My older self hasn't been a friendly figure to you. But fear not, onii-san, I give you my word as a king that my youth potion has no side-effects, and Ms. Matou will be right as rain!"

"I'd trust that a lot more if I knew why you are helping in the first place."

"You see, some time ago I had...destructive ideas planned for mankind. Well, not me me, but you get it. But then, on a day like any other, I watched a young boy try to jump over a-"

Shirou sighed. "Say no more. I get it." He grumbled. "How many people were watching that?"

GIl rubbed his chin. "Those girls from your school, Shinji, Kotomine, your father's spirit, a vampire, a few Clairvoyants and possibly an alien god. Can't know for sure." He also muttered something about a bet, but Shirou couldn't hear it.

Shirou slumped in a chair nearby. The anxiety was eating at him like rust in a sword.

"Oh? Waiting for me to get changed is that tedious for you, Shirou?"

His head snapped in the direction of the sound. From the basement, she emerged.

The perfect woman shimmied towards him. Gorgeous blue locks cascaded over her back, and her clothing clung to her hourglass figure. Her rosy, full lips curled into a seductive smile.

"Z-Zou-chan...?"

"In the flesh," she whispered. She grasped his chin with her hand and her faces were inches away from each other. "I've been waiting to say this for a long time. Fetch us some lubrication dear, and I'll show you how to get to the Root."

Shirou trembled.

"Are you ready for me, Shirou?"

There was only one possible answer to that.

"Yes."
-----------------------------

Fanart Zou-chan by Xolef

[Lady Vanatos]

Word of warning NSFW/lemon is abound here.
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Chapter 5 (True End)


“Yes.”

Her whispered affirmation for Shirou’s affection was all he had ever hoped to hear as he slowly embraced her. Since the day he saw her all those years ago, the woman he was smitten with was finally in his arms. He remembers the words Kiritsugu once told him that night on the wooden walkway, facing out towards the courtyard as he told Shirou that he would one day find the woman right for him.

“Thanks again, old man. I found her” he thought to himself, smiling gently at the memory of that day.

Looking towards her again, Shirou took in her form once more. Her eyes still held that beautiful shade of yellow, her wrinkled skin seemed to be illuminated under the dull light of the workshop, and more so than ever her form held a fragility that Shirou found inviting.

In the face of this, Shirou found his pants slowly growing tighter much to his chagrin.

Noticing this in their embrace, Zouken’s eyes momentarily widens in surprise before quickly gaining a sultry grin. From anyone else’s perspective this would come across as a sinister grin that promised pain, but to Shirou it was perhaps among the most attractive faces he had ever seen in his life.

“My, what do we have here? Is this for me, young man?” she said in a suggestive tone, her eyes gleaming with a certain light as she palmed the boy’s erection with her weathered hand, slowly rubbing his afflicted area with an experienced grace.

“I..I..uh, don’t w-”, Shirou stuttered, obviously embarrassed and aroused by the old worm’s ministrations.

“Don’t want what? Use your words now, “ the magus teased, slowly working her finger tip up the base and along the crevice of his cock, causing the boy to slightly jitter upward and breath ever so slightly harder. The sound of buzzing the room intensified as did Shirou’s arousal.

“I..I just don’t want to this to be about s-sex, is all,” Shirou finally stammered out, the old magus’ delicate touch slowly proving to be too much for him.

The dynamic from merely a moment ago had completely flipped in Zouken’s favor. Shirou’s inexperience in sexual acts had left him at a great disadvantage. One that Zouken had quickly taken advantage of.

Zouken giggled as she continued her assault “Ah, is that so? You are a sweet little thing, such a gentleman. However,” she paused, as her other hand cupped the boy’s cheek and gave a raspy chuckle, “Didn’t you say you wanted to prove your affections to me?”

“Yes, b-but Zou-chan, I just can’t---!” He was cut off from Zouken’s worn finger to his lips.

“Now, now, it’s important for men to prove their resolve, is it not? So..”

She trailed off, as she forgoed her gentle ministrations and aggressively clutched his penis in the palm of her hand, eliciting an aroused and embarrassed yelp from the overwhelmed youngster. Slowly, she leaned into his ear before continuing, and whispering in a seductive yet wheezy voice..

“....prove it to me~”

“O-okay,” The young magus mumbled softly, convinced both out of love and lust for the old worm. If this is what she wanted to prove that he loves her, who was he to deny her?

“Delightful. Now come, we shall continue this in my quarters and I need to...freshen up” Zouken said with a knowing smile, as she withdrew her hold of Shirou’s manhood and made her way towards the exit of the workshop.

Shirou still stood in place, paralyzed over what just happened not only a moment ago.

“Are you coming or do I need to convince you some more, young man?” she paused at the exit, calling out to the stunned young man.

“I already did--I mean, yes. I mean, no I’m coming!” Shirou stuttered slowly, coming out of his daze.

The corners of Zouken’s cracked lips once more jutted up at the boy’s incoherent reply and once more gave a wheezing chuckle.

“Yes, I do believe I will enjoy eating you right up, young Shirou.”


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The bedroom Shirou found himself was ornate, if not somewhat gaudy to most onlookers. Around him, polished mahogany seems to stitch endlessly in the surprisingly spacious room, with opulent rugs and other furnishings that seemingly looks as if it came straight out of the early 19th century, with the bed he was currently residing on being massive in comparison to his, as it was adorned with in crimson brocaded silk.

The crackle of the fireplace and the noise running the bathroom behind him did little to distract his nerves. Directly above it was a portrait of Zouken herself. Or rather, a portrait of what she once was.

Shirou could look upon the rather grandiose painting. Her cobalt hair came to the mid of her back, her sharp eyes seemed to stare and follow him with a cool and impassive expression upon her young and admittedly beautiful face. Shirou couldn’t deny the beauty a young Zouken possessed.

However, he fell in love with the Zouken of the present. So, the past mattered little in this case.

With his mind preoccupied, he failed to notice that the noise in the bathroom had ceased.

“I was quite the beauty, no?”

The crackled voice jolted Shirou from his thoughts, as he turned to see the object of his affection. Immediately, the boy’s mind holds upon seeing what she’s wearing.

NSFW Granny. Click at yer peril

The old worm was dressed up in a cherry red see-through nightgown that stretched past her knees, which was decorated by stockings of the same color. Underneath, Shirou could see her in all her glory. Her greyish skin is still moist from the shower, with the red nightie used to further accentuate her skin tone. Her wig is still in place but has been fashioned to the side of her nape.

The stockings’ silken lace seem to tighten around her wrinkled thighs and rear and they seem to bulge past the lingerie itself. Her blubbery and veiny breasts seem to extend down to her stomach to an extent, as her large areola are notably darker than the rest of her skin as her nipples seem to protrude and seemingly move almost unnaturally. Her vagina visible in the translucent gown, with a pronounced clit and patch of hair to embellish it.

In all his life, Shirou has never been harder.

“Close your mouth, boy. You’re liable to let a fly in there if you keep it open like that”, said the old magus, as she sauntered from the bathroom door and towards Shirou.

Stopping in front of the young man, she continued. “Unless that is what you are hoping for, then I would be happy to oblige.”

“I..uh..whoa..”

“My, you truly do find me attractive don’t you?” questioned Zouken, standing in front of the buffudled adolescent.

This question seemed to rouse Shirou from his stupor somewhat, as looked at the source of his affection in their eyes before replying, “Of course, I find you to be the most beautiful woman I ever met. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think that was the truth.” Shirou gave his heartfelt reply.

The old magus seem to have stilted and looked towards the boys’ face intently. She looked into his eyes searching for any last minute lies or ulterior motives but found none. The young magus' love and confession was genuine and Zouken found herself silently stunned once more, arousing a distant yet familiar feeling from ages’ past.

This damn brat...

She didn’t hate it though.

“Well then…” she trailed off as she crouched in front of the young man bending her knees, as she grabbed hold of his crotch, the amatuer magus blushing up a storm in reponse. “I suppose such honesty deserves a reward.”

Her wrinkled yet skilled hand groping his crotch before unzipping his trousers and yanking his fly open to reveal Shriou’s modest sized penis, hard and needy.

“What do we have here, then?” Her hand snaked south, and cupped round the boys’ engorged dick; her fingers gently but firmly clasping the underside of slowly dragging the member up and down in her ragged hand, causing Shirou to gasp from the overwhelming sensation.

“Someone is pleased~” Her voice was jagged yet husky. “You are quite sensitive, boy.” She continued her fervent handjob as Zouken’s other hand cupped the balls of the increasingly disheveled youth.

Shirou found himself experiencing sensations he had never felt before in his short life: That of an experienced woman. His light gasps and grunts from her touch alone, gave the grandmother a pleasant, warm throb in her core. A light buzzing and squelching could be heard emanating from her nether regions as she found herself getting excited.

“I should tell you now before going any further,” she spoke softly in her crackling voice as she leant forward, her breaths becoming increasingly erratic as her chapped lips lingered over his cock.

“Just as you intend to make me yours..”

Zouken licks the underside of his cock with her elongated tongue, from base to tip, sending a shockwave of ecstasy through the young man.

“..I intend to mark you as mine.”

The worm wasted no time and devoured her young lover’s cock in full as she hungrily lapped at his manhood.

Shirou's eyes widened in ecstasy as the woman he loved aggressively gave him head. Barely being able to half-haul himself up upon his elbows as his fingers held on to the silken bedsheets for dear life.

Shirou could only describe the old matriarch's mouth as heavenly. Her decrepit and warm mouth felt as if it was constricting and contracting near constantly. At the same time, a nondescript hum seemed to reverberate inside her mouth as if his cock was being vibrated.

Zouken’s tongue wormed its way underneath her lover’s foreskin, swirling under it while working the bulbous tip with an unmatched dexterity, a wet, slopping sound echoing within the room.

“Z-zouken...O-oh god ngh”

Shirou gritted out, barely managing to get a word out before gasping from the overwhelming sensations. Zouken gave a happy moan as she seemingly began to distend her neck and a squealing could be heard coming from the elder’s throat, serving as a warning before Shirou’s mind blanked once more. A slimy presence could be felt on the head of the boy’s penis, squirming erratically on the tip.

The woman looked up towards the youth slowing down her rapid suction, her face half-turned from one side before gaining a sultry look in her eyes before slowly working her lips up and down his shaft, as his cockhead was being aggressively milked by a crest worm.

“Gh….O-ohhh”

The dual sensations proved to be too much for the young man. Static bristled within his mind as a soundless gasp escaped Shirou’s lips, as he finally came into the matriarch's mouth. Zouken’s eyes fixated on her lover’s face as she continued her slow and fast deepthroat, intended to extract as much as she could from the young man.

The young’s magus’ powerful spurts splattered itself into the old worm’s mouth, the crest worm gorging itself on the semen. The spurts weakened in strength until it had no more left to give. Leaving Shirou winded, chest heaving on the edge of the bed. Slowly extracting herself from the youth’s crotch with an audible pop and standing up, she wiped her now moistened lips with a sharpened smirk forming on her worn face as she readjusted her wig.

“Seems I still got it, even after all these years” the magus thought to herself, rather proud of the state she put her young lover through.

“Z-zouken, t-that was amazing, I never felt that way before.” Shirou stammered out, still recovering from oral assault. The Matou stared down saucily at the young man, as she cupped his chin and tilted it towards her.

“You also did quite well, lasting as long as you did. Though it could be better but do not worry,” she trailed off, patting the side of his face like a grandmother would when their grandchild did a good job. She made her way onto the center of the bed. “I will be sure to train you well.

“Now, strip.”

“Eh?”

“How long are you going to stay dressed, boy. Don’t keep me waiting”

The boy stalled before the dots seemed to connect and Shirou began to undress in a hurry. The old matriarch traced her eyes over the young man’s form as he undressed, gazing upon his athletic body with a hungered look. The pleasant and warm throb returned as her mind wandered.

“Ah, how long has it truly been? A century perhaps? Two?” Zouken wondered to herself. It has truly been centuries since she has been in a lover’s embrace. Too distracted by her goals for the Holy Grail. And by the time she could have even considered such a prospect, her beauty of her “youth” had all but disappeared by then. Her figure reduced to that of a hunched corpse of her former self. No sane or self respecting man would ever feel attraction to such a wasted and antiquated figure, she thought.

“Or so I thought,” she mused to herself as the blushing redhead finally undressed, made his way onto the center of the bed, kneeling on the bed obviously embarrassed. “It seems kids these days have the strangest interests”

Bringing her attention back to the youth at hand, she spoke with a gravelly voice. “Now, young Shirou. It’s time you returned the favor.”

Spreading her legs wide to make her crotch visible, her pussy winking in arousal. Her arm propping up her gangly, veiny breasts as they dangled over her arm. She smirked as she continued.

“Now be a sweetie and moisten me up.”

“O-okay. I’ll do my best,” Shirou answered, fervent to please his girlfriend. He approached the matriarch's crotch with an eager apprehension. His face as red as his hair, he then asks. “S-so how do you want me to--”

“Use your fingers first, then your mouth. Come now, go on.” The magus said rather impatiently, finding herself surprisingly needy after so long.

Wordlessly, the youngster started to slowly finger his lover’s elderly snatch. It eagerly sucked in the appendage. The texture was unlike anything Shirou felt. Warm, slimy and the same buzzing hum he felt when he was in Zouken’s mouth but even more intense.

“Yes...go on..”

Compelled to please, Shirou pumped his finger in and out of the wrinkled cunt, increasing in speed as the crotch began to squeeze on the redhead’s finger.

“Yes, yes more, give me more boy…!” Zouken exclaimed in a raspy moan. Encouraged by his lover’s reactions, he added two more fingers with the squelching tightness as the buzzing hum increased, a soft vibrating accompanying the rapid fingerbanging. Zouken’s protruding and puffy clit winked in front of him. In the heat of the moment, the boy found himself licking the protrusion. Resulting in a rather in a squeal from Zouken, or rather the closest thing to a squeal the elder magus could muster.

“Yes...good boy!...O-ooh keeping doing that.” Zouken mouth wide open in pleasure and giving hoarse and short gasps. She gripped a handful of Shirou’s redhair before pushing him further onto her clit, her other hand playing with her elongated nipple. Shirou continued his assault on his lover’s clit, nibbling and sucking in gusto at the lobe as he continued his impassioned fingering.

“Yes, yes there it is..! You’re doing good, boy”

Spurred further by her reactions, Shirou would begin tonguing Zouken’s warm passage as his fingers played with her sensitive clit. Though before he could go any further he found his head tugged upward, with a flustered Zouken giving what would be seen as titillating on any other woman but came across as almost menacing on the ancient magus.

“You did well, but that should be enough foreplay”

“B-but you haven’t--”

Placing her hand on his chin, cutting him off, she chuckled. “Oh I intend to, young man. But I intend to come from the real thing.” she grasped the redhead’s semi-hard manhood, which quickly engorged itself with blood at her touch. She smiled, glad to see the youth’s body was as honest as he was.

“Now boy...”

The Matou matriarch laid back onto the bed, her hand leaving the youngster’s cock. Using her fingers, she opened her winking and moistened crotch with her legs extended and knees bent.
“...time for you to become a man.”

Seeing the woman he loved for years offer herself to him in such a provocative way and having already been driven to edge more than enough in a single night, Shirou found himself unable to resist as he approached Zouken’s thirsty snatch, his bulbous head at the entrance. Despite this, he found it in himself to halt his advances long enough and kiss the woman on the lips, surprising the elder. The kiss was clumsy and amateurish but the intent was nonetheless delivered, as he looked the love of his life in the eyes.

“I love you, Zouken Matou,” Shirou proclaimed with a clear, focused gaze. Unlike how he was even moments ago, the boy’s steely will manifested in a moment of genuine honesty that Zouken was once again stunned by.

Clearly caught off guard, Zouken was unable to give a proper answer, instead she self-consciously responded with slight snark. “Ridiculous. A brat like you loving an old woman like me. Something most truly be wrong in that head of yours”

Undeterred, Shirou merely smiled as he responded knowingly. “It’s okay, Zou-chan. I know you feel the same so you don’t have to be so embarrassed”

This uppity brat...

Unable to properly respond to Shirou instantly seeing through her failed attempt at deflection, she simply gave him a slight scowl before grabbing the young man's firm buttocks in both hands.

“Embarrassed you say? Don’t get cocky, brat. In case you forgot…,” she trailed off, Zouken’s scowl turning into a mischievous grin. One that would look sinister to anyone other than Shirou. “I’m the one teaching you.”

Zouken pushed Shirou’s hips forward, penetrating the old worm to the base with his cock. Shirou’s mind once again blanking. The sensations were like nothing like he ever felt before. If Zouken’s mouth was intent on milking him, then her snatch was to drain him. The slimy, slick tightening & squeezing of her tunnel and the static-like buzzing emanated all around him, bringing him to the brink.

Zouken was no better. Her eyes glazed, having long since forgotten the sensation of a man’s cock after centuries of abstinence.

“That’s it, nice and snug inside of me. It feels good doesn’t it boy, so wet and tight around your big cock~” she mewled as she rolled her hips on the bed. Her sagging breasts shuddered as the boy began to thrust in and out of Zouken haphazardly but no less intensely. Her insides twisting and swerving around the boy’s cock as her stretchy flesh bounces up and down alongside her breast, her worms intent on gorging themselves on the redhead’s palatable semen.

“Fuck me! Keep it going! Fuck me!” she rasped, her voice throaty and deep from need. Her aged and long fingers squeezing her young lover’s ass as he paced back and forth inside her fluctuating cunt, her wig seemingly flying off in the process of the rough lovemaking.

“Y-you’re so beautiful, Zou-chan. You feel so good“ Shirou managed the strength to stammer out, his focus entirely on the woman below him. On a whim he would grab Zouken’s veiny tit and began suckling on the enlarged nipple, nibbling and suckiling on it in his mouth as he did Zouken’s clit only moments ago

“Yes, good boy! Men can’t get enough breasts no matter the age now can they?” the matriarch mused throatily, a gravelly chuckle leaving her throat. Shirou responded by grabbing her other flailing tit and sucking upon that one in tandem.

Shirou’s tight and rapid thrusts as he heard her moan and praise him in her aroused, sensual voice spurned him. Her body seemingly shifted subtly as he felt a similar feeling grasp his cockhead when he was in the aged magus’ mouth, as pre-cum began to leak from his tip. Shirou found himself reaching climax when, with the twist of her hips, Shirou found himself flat on his back and under the impassioned Matou.

“My turn now, you cheeky brat.” she purred, or atleast, what Shirou thought was a purr. She straddled the tip of his head to her entrance before slamming down back to the base. Both groaned in ecstasy as she continued herlong and hard thrusts upon the young man’s sizable cock. Her wet snatch swarming to milk the young man under her. Her stretchy skin reverberated with the impact of her elderly vein-riddled hips with his pelvis, as it squished and yielded to the force of impact. Shirou’s hands find themselves on her hips, his hands digging into them and underneath her lace straps as she swerved and rotated her flabby thighs.

“Yes, now that’s better”, she emphasized the last word with a particular hard slam, sliding up and down the boy’s shaft, smelting it deep within her core. Shirou could do nothing but agree with a clenched grunt as she bucked widely into him. “This is what a brat ...ohhhh, l-like you get for talking back. So just lay there and, uph take it.”
“Z-zou-chan, I-I’m going to..!”

Zouken replied by tightening like a vice, continuing to hammer herself on her lover’s cock as she placed her hands upon the redhead’s chest. Eyes shut and his breaths rasping through clenched teeth, Shirou grasped the back of Zouken's head as he lined it up with his as he brought her to his lips as he began to buck wildly upward, matching her thrusts. Stunned only momentarily she returned the kiss passionately, a strand of saliva linking to two as her loose and wrinkled skin distending over the youth’s abdomen as their lower bodies repeatedly made contact.

Both had lost themselves in pleasure, their foreheads pressed against another. Zouken’s open and drooling mouth, Shirou’s eyes clenching. Fingers intertwined. Shared sensations narrowing into a singular moment of bliss.

“Zou-chan,” Shirou whispered, speaking her name in elation. A final thrust into her as her body quivered from orgasm, a long breathy groan into his ear as he released inside her, before he briefly lost all awareness, overcome by pleasure.

Both breathing heavily and smeared against each other, covered in fluids. Shirou wrapped his arms lovingly around Zouken, the woman doing nothing to fight against it.

“I love you, Zou-chan”

Still coming off her orgasmic high she replied, “Again, you said it again...mmh. What strange brat you are.” The redhead’s manhood slowly softened within her.

“I just know what I want.” explained Shirou matter-of-factly.

“What a peculiar thing to say after orgasming inside me”

“Don’t worry, Zou-chan, I’ll take responsibility”

Zouken gave the redhead the boy a deadpan stare or as close to one as she could manage in her state.

Flicking the dense youth’s head with her finger, she elaborated, “Boy I am long past the point where I could get impregnated. So you need not worry.”

Shirou looked somewhat disappointed before nodding his head in understanding, “Got it. We can still get married though right?”

“My, you don’t give up do you? Are you that insistent on making me an ‘Emiya’?”

“Emiya, Matou, it doesn’t matter to me as long as we are together”. Shirou staunchly replied, causing the woman to once again search his face. Her impassive gaze became a small smile as she began tracing his jawline.

“Zolgen.”

“Huh?”

“My real name. Before I was Zouken Matou, it was Zolgen Makiri. When we are together like this, you can call me Zolgen if you wish.”

The young magus’ eyes widen before offering a sheepish smile of his own, “Sure thing, but I kind of gotten used to saying Zou-chan to be honest”

“Yes, you and that foolish nickname you have for me”

“Oh don’t be like that, you like it. Why don’t you come up with a nickname for me so we can make it even.” He offered his lover.

“I do have one for you. It’s ‘boy’”

“That’s not a nickname.”

“Of course it is.”

Shirou pouted indignantly. “Come on give me another nickname aside from ‘boy.’”

“Sorry, I’ve gotten ‘used to it’” Zouken smugly stated, smiling with her dimples pronounced. Her greyish, loose skin jiggled slightly from her raspy chuckles.

“Don’t worry, boy, it’s a term of affection I assure you,” Shirou perked up at that.

“So you admit it. You love me.”

Snorting, the woman averted her gaze from the too earnest stare. “Yes, yes, I’ll admit I have some affection for you. But I didn’t say love.”

“I’d believe that, if you didn’t clench around me when I said, I love you” Zouken’s non-existent brow twitched in annoyance as Shirou grinned assuredly. Cheeky brat.

“Hmph, whatever you say, boy”

“I’ll get you to say it one of these days, Zou-chan”

“We’ll see. Now off to bed, you’ve worn out my back. You shouldn’t be so rough with the elderly.”

“Yes, ma’am--wait I’m not that tired ye---”

He was cut off by Zouken, flicking the boy's forehead as his eyes became half-lidded and hazy before his consciousness faded into sleep. Zouken, no, Zolgen looked upon the now peacefully sleeping Shirou Emiya. Before giving a heartfelt albeit still unnerving smile as she gently stroked his hair.

“I love you too, silly boy”

Having said her piece. She snapped her aged fingers, magecraft snuffing out the fireplace and ornate lights within the room as she too, would head to slumber. More fulfilled than she’s felt in years as she laid her head next to Shirou.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


In the next room over, a moss haired teen would lay upon his bed staring forward toward the ceiling.

His eyelids heavy, his eyes dead as he was on the inside.

Shinji had woken up from strange sounds coming from the next room over. Grandmother’s bedroom in fact.

He had heard both his grandmother and Emiya enter and it didn’t take long to figure out what they were doing. Especially considering he heard it all, due to grandmother not remembering or simply not caring to use soundproof magecraft or even cast a boundary field to mask the sounds. Subjecting him to every sound, grunt and moan.

Hearing his disgusting, saggy worm riddled grandmother for the lack of a better term, getting dicked to Kingdom Come. Shinji only had one articulate response to this as he continued to stare forward towards the ceiling of his room.


“I want to fucking kill myself.”


TRUE END